One Sith,Two Sith, Three Sith, More?[Sierra Squad]

[Jace]

Amidst the darkness that is space, a lone freighter slowly makes its way to the heart of the Empire. The freighter had passed into government ownership after the elimination loss of their previous crew. A bunch of lowlife barbaric pirates who preyed on helpless passenger transports. The 3rd Special Operations Group(SOG) had acquired many vehicles in the same manner and kept them for various purposes. Such vessels had their uses, in this case, smuggling a squad on to Korriban unnoticed.

The Sith Empire had strong ties to the mercenary community. Reason was simple, they had money. Hiring mercenaries or smugglers to attack certain Republic vessels left them blame free, hence avoiding any sticky political situations. Of course, all that seemed moot now considering the Empire had made its intentions quite clear. While the memory of Dantooine had begun to fade, Mygeeto and Mon Calamari still remained fresh in the Republic's mind.

The Sith bastards They would get what was coming to them. Any soldier who had half a wit could tell that the Sith Empire would not sit content. Many, including himself, had advocated for a more...proactive approach to the Sith Empire. Brass rejected of course, there was too much risk of starting a war. Well how about now? Yes, now the politicians had decided it was appropriate after the loss of a Major Republic planet.

War would be officially declared soon, of that he had no doubt. His job wasn't to worry about the political climate though, he was a soldier. He was given orders, and he had to carry them out. It was that simple. Luckily for him, he was in the 3rd SOG, and they would be making the first hit. Though the current mission didn't call for an actual tactical strike. The soldier wasn't exactly overjoyed about the mission but brass told him it was of the highest priority so he kept this mouth shut.

Feeorin Sergeant Major Crosis made his way from his quarters and towards the briefing room more commonly known as the galley. He had just finished the final check of his weapons and gear. The now forty something soldier exclusively used slugthrowing firearms. Blasters couldn't be silenced and that was aside from the fact that they gave away your position. Slugthrowers on the other hand were made for special operations. Even lightsabers can't deflect them Crosis had never fought a Jedi or an opponent who wielded a lightsaber. The warrior in him wanted a shot to see how he would fare with his skills. His common sense told him he should be lucky never to face such an opponent.

Like a large portion of special operations troops, he respected the Jedi. He respected their dedication and their martial prowess. The Feeorin had participated in a cooperative mission with a Jedi once, it went quite smoothly. Leaving such reminiscing for later, Crosis entered the galley. The sergeant major waited for his two comrades before they went over the final briefing.

[Dutch]

Finally something down his alley. Instead of sitting idly and waiting for another attack, Republic Specialist Vangar Slihm could hunt again- all thanks to an old friend. He couldn't help but feel grateful to Crosis, the Sargent Major himself coming to the Barabel and handing him his new orders. Slihm now got his chance to do what he thoroughly did best- hunt.

He just finished sharpening his claws and cleaning his rifle when he strapped the gun to his back and made his way out of his bunk. Slihm chewed on a piece of jerky as he walked towards the galley, sharp teeth shredding the meat easily. One trick the Jedi had helped him control was utilizing his full predatory instincts- so that he could still do his job, but remain civil in the process. Apparently taking chunks out of enemies and eating them was looked down upon by the Jedi. Vangar sissed allowed at that thought, finding it next to impossible to imagine a Jedi eating another. Shaking his head he turned into the galley to see his old friend sitting there waiting.

"Thisss one sssseessss you beat me here Crosssissss."

Said the Barabel as he strode over and clapped him heartily on the shoulder before sitting somewhat next to him. So far all Slihm knew of this mission was that they were going deep behind enemy lines, to the very heart of darkness itself- Korriban. The reptile had never been there himself, but just like any planet, he was sure it would have its predators- and prey.

Slihm scarfed the last bit of his meat before running his tongue over his teeth and growling with satisfaction. Indeed, getting rid of hunger did allow Slihm to focus more on fighting and less on hunting- the two definitely having a difference to the Barabel. A fight could be fair, but a hunt was always one sided. Tail swishing with anticipation, he awaited any words Crosis might say, and awaited the final person in Sierra.

[Dire Wolf]

In the darkness of space a lone starship propelled itself to the heart of the glorious treacherous Sith Empire. In one of the darkest rooms of that singular starship there sat a woman in the darkest corner of the darkest shadow. The woman's skin was of a deep blue hue, one that was held by only a few races known in the galaxy. Her race was not known. The glowing crimson eyes set in her head hung in the darkness that engulfed her black-clad form.

After a seemingly infinite amount of time, the woman stood up and out of her meditative trance. Jedi were not the only ones that could meditate, and performing a ritual every so often did wonders for calming her mind. Which is just what it did, for before the clear water of her mind was clouded with the thick ink of the atrocious course of events that the Sith had forced the galaxy into.

They were bold indeed, to attack the Galactic Republic was to stir the proverbial hornets nest. She was honestly surprised that the leaders of the Republic were spineless enough to let Dantooine fall to the Sith without a declaration of war. She sighed. Not thirty seconds after she had completed her meditations the ink clouded her mind once again.

She may have been a mercenairy, yes, but she was one that was aligned with the Republic. She'd been... vocal... about her views, and was on more-than-a-few blacklists because of it. But then, it was partially the reason as to why she was on that very ship amongst the best soldiers of the galaxy. After a quick sigh the woman walked over towards her blade. The beautiful piece of steel and cortosis alloy was elegantly made, curving, and etched in a language that not even she could understand. It certainly wasn't meant to be used by a woman such as her, one that would only use it in the shadows of the night.

A satisfied smile appeared across her azure face as she batted away some of the flecks of midnight hair and slid the sword in its scabbard on her back. She slowly made her way from the spartan quarters that she called her own and towards the room that was made the squad's briefing room. Once there the woman crossed her arms and shifted her weight back against the wall, simply observing the two other beings who stood in the room with her through those blood red orbs in her head.

"Sergeant Major Crosis, Specialist Slihm," she greeted the two simply, shortly, and curtly. It was high praise coming from the normally recluse woman, normally she would have simply slipped into the room and waited until someone noticed her. And, generally, that took quite awhile.

[Jace]

Only moments after he stepped into the briefing room, he heard the distinctive sound of a predator approaching. Luckily for him, this predator wasn't hunting him. The Feeorin was confident in his abilities but would be content to never have to fight a Barabel, especially one as dangerous as Vangar Slihm. He immediately noted the razor sharp toothy grin as he placed a heavy claw on Crosis' shoulder.

"You must be getting old" chided the Feeorin

Even if that was remotely true, Crosis would not have anyone else on his team. He had trained with the most elite soldiers in all of the Republic but not all of them were in the 3rd SOG. He had met the Barabel some time ago, and they had quickly become friends. The brass had given him the option of choosing whoever he wanted for this mission, and Vangar was his first. The second walked into the room moments later.

Dehja, now she was one scary chick. She could walk into a room without a sound, and open about five throats before anyone knew she was there. What Crosis was with a rifle, she was with a blade. Lately she had taken to the life of a mercenary but he knew that her loyalties lay with the Republic. Whispers of her abilities were widely known through the special operations community but Crosis just assumed they were exaggerated. He soon learned he was mistaken after he looked into her personnel file. Dehja's skills would be perfect for this mission.

A Chiss, A Barabel, and a jet black Feeorin.

Intimidating, you're damn right they are. That was just their appearance, combined with their skills, they were the deadliest force this side of the universe.

"Alright, ETA to Dreshdae is 10 minutes. Mission profile is exfiltration of a sensitive asset. This is low profile. We cover as mercenaries. Easy and we can keep our weapons and gear on us. Brass says that they have not received communication from the asset in over 12 hours. He may just be unable to send a communique or he may be captured. If the latter is true, exfiltration is still priority. If exfil is not possible, we are to eliminate the asset. May be a simple sneak and grab, but remember, we are in the heart of enemy territory."

A small smirk crossed his face with his last sentence. The thought of stealing something from under the nose of Sith tickled him. He merely nodded to the two, indicating that the briefing was finished, and to prepare their gear. Eliminating someone on the Republic side wasn't pretty but sometimes it had to be done. They had sensitive information and if they were captured, there was a decent possibility they would divulge whatever they knew. Crosis didn't think it would come to that, but he was always taught to expect the unexpected. Well hopefully if it was lucky, he would get to put a bullet between the eyes of some Sith bastards.

[Dutch]

The Barabel snarled and sissed at Crosis' joke at his age. Though it was true Slihm was a bit up in the years, he still moved and fought as if he was a young man. As Dehja entered Slihm habitually sized her up, still not fully knowing the female Chiss, and out of instinct, considering her a threat. He appreciated the huntress though, natural respect for a fellow hunter. A raspy curt bark sounded from the massive reptile, a Barabel greeting. Even to this day, after being around sentients that mostly spoke basic, Slihm couldn't help but speak in his own tongue.

He listened acutely to Crosis' words, taking the mission in. Seemed easy enough to the Barabel- Slihm figuring that between the Feeorin, the Chiss, and the Barabel- they'd appear as nothing more than mere brutish mercs to others, a tactic Vangar had used in the past many a time. He turned to Crosis just as his tongue flicked out then said.

"Crosssisss, Thisss one believes you have the asssetsss former uniform for me to track him? And don't worry, Thisss one'll keep my tracking sssimply to smell and tasting the air- Thisss one will not be on all foursss like usssual."

Slihm sissed in laughter at his joke, tail swishing as he did. After Crosis nodded to them to get ready, Vangar simply stood up and stretched his arms and unsheathed his claws, stretching them out as well having already prepped himself. His trusty rifle sat perched on his back, and the leather of his armor had been recently conditioned, so it moved with his bulky form smoothly. After stretching for a moment the massive lizard made his way to the exit ramp and waited, arms crossed and tail swishing with anticipation- ready for the hunt.

[Dire Wolf]

The cerulean woman simply leaned against the wall with her arms crossed as the jet black Feeorin made his universe record-breaking length briefing. Not that it needed to be a terribly long briefing mind you,but something within the azure skinned female wanted... more. A picture, name, call sign, code, ethnicity, race, species... hell, even a ruddy gender would have been nice. Yet, the woman couldn't help but notice that none of the preceeding were given.

"Do you really have no more information on 'the asset' than that? I've gone off of less, but I'd hate for 'the asset' to end up on the wrong end of my sword, or your weapon for that matter, because of a simple miscommunication." Dehja gave a silent sigh after speaking. Her comrade's would soon find that this was the most that they'd ever hear the woman speak.

Glowing crimson eyes regarded the pair that were before them, one Feeorin with the skin darker than the black void itself, and the other was a race that she was hardly familiar with: A barabel. The Chiss woman had heard bits and pieces about the reptilian race... none of them pretty. The former of the two was Crosis, his skills with the gun were legendary among the special forces community, While it was no secret that the woman had little love for firearms, she most certainly had a respect for those who wielded them well. And Vangar? She hadn't heard much of the beast, but from what little she had heard... he was a fearsome combatant.

Exactly what this little group needed: A near-divine rifleman, a master of close combat, and reptile whose ferciousness and bravery knew no bounds.

Perfect.

[Jace]

He had expected the question, indeed he had asked the same one himself. So he would tell them what brass told him.

"Well brass, in all their wisdom decided that we wont receive the details until we touch down."

Crosis made his way back to his quarters and quickly gathered all his gear. He made one last check to make sure that he had no Republic markings on his gear. While it would be fairly obvious if it came to prisoner extraction, this was special operations. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he made his way towards the exit ramp.

Just before he was about to open the door, a message came through on his datapad. He read it over twice before motioning to the others to come closer.

"Alright this is our asset aka Maes Rowe. Human male, age 27. Make sure you have his picture engraved."

He then pulled something out of his bag, and handed it to Vangar.

"Specialist, I believe this is yours"

It was of course, a shirt whose owner was Mr.Rowe. Barabel's were quite the trackers, especially if the already had the scent of those who they were following. Hopefully Vangar would be able to easily trace and locate Mr.Rowe. He checked to make sure his weapons were ready to go and hit the button for the exit ramp.

"Lead on Slihm"

[Dutch]

Slihm said nothing to Dehja's words. Yes, they were a good point, but what could he respond with? He knew nothing of the asset, he was in the exact same spot as the Chiss. Vangar didn't need to change for this upcoming mission, the Barabel's armor never having any markings to begin with, Slihm always stuck with traditional Barab armor.

He moved towards the exit ramp door and sissed in laughter when Crosis told them to engrave the man's picture.

"Thisss one doesss not need that to recognize him. Jussst give me hisss clothesss and I'll be fine."

Said the Barabel, still sissing. Though most sentients used sight to recognize things, Barabels mostly used scent. When Crosis handed him the shirt the hunter sissed in delight and took the shirt in his left hand. With something as covered in Maes' scent as this shirt was, he would guarantee that the man would be found. Slihm brought it to his face and took in several wafts of the smell, his tongue occasionally slipping out to touch the shirt and absorb the smell more. After a second his wadded the shirt up and took a bite into it, his razor sharp teeth easily shredding the fabric. He pulled the shirt away with a tearing sound and tossed it aside before moving the scraps of clothes stuck in his teeth into his mouth. He turned to his fellow Sierra members and sissed.

"Thisss way thisss one won't lose Maesss ssscent."

Explained the Barabel. He took a moment to fully absorb Maes' taste before nodding to his partners that he was ready. Crosis hit the exit ramp button and it slowly opened with a sharp Hiss! as the pressurized door opened. Hot, dry air filled the ship- Korriban reeked of death, not just recent death either, but stale, ancient death. The smell was overwhelming, but not overwhelming enough for Maes to reach out to Vangar. Grinning toothily, Slihm waved his tail for the pair to follow him. He stepped down the ramp, ducking to avoid the ship's entrance.

The hot stone of the landing pad greeted the bare feet of Slihm as he looked around. Sentients of mostly humanoid looks filled Dreshdae Settlement. Many sneered or made a rude gesture towards Slihm and Crosis. It wasn't surprising that Dehja didn't get the same treatment, she was mostly human in looks. And a woman. Vangar paid no mind to these fools though, he merely began to casually walk where the scent led him.

As they moved Slihm acted as most people would expect a Barabel to act, snarling at people who got to close, baring his teeth menacingly at those who stared. He mentally sissed at the reactions his actions got, sure his fellow Sierra's appreciated the behavior. The scent veered off in several directions, hitting different areas of the settlement, but coming back to the original trail. His tail swished to and fro as the hunt continued- the one thing he couldn't help but do. Luckily for the Sierra's the path seemed pretty straightforward, the trio soon coming upon an entrance with a long table next to it.

A banner with the words "Come see the galaxy!" sat above the table with the Sith Military insignia on either side of the words. Five men were around the table. Three of them sat on terminals typing away on some unknown paperwork, one was tending to a line of people signing on, and the final man was speaking.

"The Republic is weak! It's senators corrupt and it's members ignorant! They sit in luxury fat and happy and leave you out here in the Outer Rim starving and fighting to survive! What makes those alien-lovers so special? Why them and not you? Join with the glorious Sith Nation and fight for your peace of the the high life! Enlist! Great pay! Complete Benefits! Retirement! What do you have to lose!?"

Slihm growled in contempt at the man's words, but noticed that the trail led into the Sith's compound.

"Blight of Barabel..."

Growled the Barabel. It seemed their target was behind enemy lines, and Slihm quickly looked around as the cogs in his head turned, thinking of what to do. Among the people in the line was a Verpine, his insect-like shell gleaming in the light. Slihm began to grin, a plan forming in his head, he turned to the duo before rasping.

"Thisss one hasss an idea. Crosssisss, follow my lead. Dehja, ussse thisss one'sss dissstraction to sssneak into the compound, we will touch bassse when we can."

In a single quick motion Slihm lunged forward into the line, his right hand quickly grasping the Verpine at it's neck and plowing people over in the line as he charged at a wall, slamming the Verpine against it. It was somewhat common knowledge that the Verpine and Barabel hated one another, something Slihm knew they would pick up on. Barking some words in his language Slihm raked his claws across the Verpine's abdomen, the insects innards sliding and slapping against the ground.

Slihm roared and dropped the Verpine which landed with a thud before the Barabel brought a single foot up and crushed the now dead insect's head in. Spitting some more words in his language he turned from the mess and stepped into line behind a Twi'lek who glanced up at Slihm nervously. He sissed at the man's fear and waited to "Sign up".

The line moved until Slihm was next, the hulking Barabel stepping up to the recruiter. The man looked up at him with greedy eyes and said

"The Sith could use a fighter like you boy, what's your name?"

Slihm growled and responded with

"Thisss one isss called Ruht Fasho. Asss long asss thisss one can hunt, he will be happy."

The man nodded and turned his terminal screen towards Slihm, pointing at a line that said "Sign here to enlist". The Barabel scrawled a false signature and nodded when the recruiter motioned him to go into the compound. Slihm nodded back and moved towards the entrance, but waited for Crosis to join him so they could discuss the next step before entering.

[Dire Wolf]

The beauty of having eyes that consisted of a solid red hue was that it was incredibly hard for someone to tell where you were looking. Or the expressions your eyes make. In this case, it was the roll of Dehja's eyes at Crosis' answer to her question. It wouldn't make a difference if they were told what the 'asset' looked like now as opposed to when they hit the surface of the planet. The azure woman left the room after it was obvious that there was little more to be said, and she made her way back to her quarters. Once there, the woman mounted all of her gear to the clips mounted on her jet-black cloth wrap.

A few minutes later she was back at the exit ramp, an almost quizzacle look crossed her face as the laughter bellowed out of the Barabel's belly at Crosis. She only needed a mere glance at the picture to sear it into her mind, but why in the universe wouldn't the Barab even want to look at it? Her question was answered after a shirt was pulled out of Crosis' bag and handed to the reptile. She simply waited for the creature to have his fill of the scent (or the shirt) and followed him down the ramp when he was finished.

The woman was assaulted by a hot blast of air as she stepped down the ramp of the ship. Crimson eyes surveyed the area around her, taking in every bit of information possible. Not a single outcrop or overhang escaped the woman's sight, and she could escape and outmaneuver the enemy within moments, should the need arise. She paid no heed to the sneers and jeers of Dreshdae's residents as the three "aliens" walked through the settlement, the opinions of idiots and racists meant little to the woman.

After a few moments of walking, the trio came up to a building with men standing infront of the entrance. It was obviously a Sith Military Complex, judging by the men standing out front spewing propaganda and the various banners and signs that hung around the front. As always, the woman's eyes scanned the face of the building for routes that she could take, should she need to infiltrate the building or escape enemies.

Dehja barely had a moment to scan before the Slihm's reptilian sissing floated into her ears. A wry grin crossed her lips as her crimson gaze shifted over to the reptile, this was going to be fun. The cerulean woman slowly backed away from the two spec ops personnel, but she barely had time to move before the Barabel wrapped his hands around the neck of an insectoid looking creature and plowed him through the crowd.

Perfect.

The Chiss was a blurr of motion as she sprinted away from the crowd and towards the wall. She was always fast. Faster than most of the people that she'd ever encountered, friendly or otherwise. And speed? That couldn't quite describe the haste in her actions as she launched a grip-soled foot at the side of part of the wall that jutted out from the rest of the wall. Her foot barely connected before she coiled the muscle's in her legs together, bunching them up for added strength. Half a heartbeat later the woman launched herself up the wall using the tremendous grip that the sole's of her cloth shoes provided.

Her hands quickly met with the roof, and it just took the slightest pull of her arms to keep the momentum going. The Chiss woman made it to the roof of the complex in a little under a second, more than enough time than Slihm provided her with the gruesome distraction. It would just take a little stealth and guile to make it into the building from one of its few sky lights, but other than that... she was home free.

[Jace]

The Feeorin's faced remained impassive as Vangar ate the shirt that he had handed him. He had seen weirder things in his life, a Barabel eating cloth was somewhere near the top though. As the exit ramp opened, Crosis was hit by Korriban's arid climate. Every once in awhile he wished they could send him on a mission to a nice beach.

Alas, if only he mused

On second thought though, he wouldn't rather be anywhere else. He was at the center of the Republic's greatest enemy. Any special operations soldier would die for such an opportunity. Chances were that they wouldn't even see any action, the thought disheartened him. Getting into a firefight on Korriban was not his mission though, maybe one day it would be. That would be a truly glorious day, he hoped he would live to take part in such a battle.

Though his thoughts were elsewhere, his eyes scanned their surroundings as they passed through Dreshdae. They drew looks but that was a given considering who they were. The untrained eye would only see another trio of mercenaries on Korriban. Even the trained eye would see skilled mercenaries who were possibly ex-military. The thought of Republic soldiers in the heart of their empire wouldn't even begin to cross their minds.

The Barabel finally stopped in front of a building which just happened to be an outpost for the Sith Military. They seemed to be a recruiter in front of the building going on about how the Republic was corrupt. Well it looks like things may not turn out to be as easy as he initially thought. There was now no doubt in his mind that their objective had been captured.

Crosis nodded as Vangar told him to follow the Barabel's lead. He proceeded to watch the Barabel disembowel a Verpine. The recruiter clearly impressed, asked him to sign up. Crosis watched as a Trandoshan stepped menacingly toward Vangar whose back was turned. The Feeorin sprung forward, grabbing the back of the Trandoshan's head, and sending into the duracrete wall. He threw the now unmoving husk off to the side and turned to the recruiter.

"Where do I sign up?" He said as he put on his most menacing grin.

He went through the sign up procedure with his false ID and followed Vangar in. Walking up to the Barabel's side, he kept close making sure no one else could here.

"Lets lay low until Dehja locates the target"

[Dutch]

Slihm sissed and grinned when he found out the Crosis had dusted the Trandoshan that planned to show how tough he was via harming the Barabel. When Crosis reached him Slihm motioned for them to move with his tail and stepped into the gaping entrance into the Sith Compound. Various mainly human sentients moved about, Slihm not fully sure how the Sith worked internally, but his senses absorbed every little detail, from the uniform colors to which sections of the compound had the most people in it.

His tail swished impatiently as they awaited a sign that Dehja had the target. Maes' trail still led deeper into the compound, but the Barabel was confident in the Chiss' abilities.

"Thisss one tiresss of waiting, Dehja better hurry."

Sissed the impatient Barabel. Sure, exploring the compound casually would help in getting an idea of the Sith's inner workings, but Slihm was a fighter, a hunter, not a spy. He finally had a stoke of brilliance.

"Follow my lead once more Crosssisss"

Slihm added before a large clawed hand shot to the back of Crosis' neck. Roughly shoving him forward Slihm growled loudly and shouted

"Where'sss the brig? Thisss one isss a Mandalorian ssspy!"

A man in a gray Sith uniform told him the directions and spat in Crosis' face, Slihm forcing himself not to laugh as he steered Crosis away from the crowds in the direction he was told.

"Sssorry 'bout that, but thisss way we can rendezvous with Dehja.

When Slihm couldn't smell anyone else near them he let go of Crosis and patted him heartily on the back. He took a lick of the scrap of clothes in his mouth and refreshed Maes' sent. Vangar picked up the trail, and began to move down the bleak white hallway, hoping that Dehja would hurry her ass up.

[Dire Wolf]

((x.x this was going to turn out to be crazy long, so I am not going to cover all that I wanted to cover.))

The huntress shifted her gaze about the roof of the large building that she now ran across, searching the opportune place to drop down and into the installation. The roar of the wind in her ears made her feel like she was with a wild pack of Vornskr's on the prowl. A small smirk of satisfaction etched its way across her azure face behind that black piece of cloth as she slowed to a stop just infront of an edge of the installation. If she was going to get in she'd need a disguise... the ninja get up would only get her so far.

Blood red eyes peered over the edge, scanning for any potential targets. While roof above the entrance to the building was only a few stories up, the area she looked down on had to be at least ten stories. After a few brief moments a particularly heavily armed guard walked out onto an overhang six stories below. Perfect. The sinew like muscles in her legs tensed as they bunched up, curling into each other. She was preparing to drop. Dehja shot her magna grapple into the roof just as she lept downwards towards the Sith Soldier, readying her garrote wire for a quick and bloodless assassination.

The roar of the wind curling about in her ears sounded once more as she entered into a sixty feet free fall towards the hapless dead man. At seemingly the last moment, the woman flicked on the powered ascender that clung to her waist, slowing her down to a dead stop just before her feet touched the ground. Deh had about half a second before she would fly back up. A thinsteel wire quickly passed down the woman's face and around her neck, her response was the usual: vainly attempt to free her throat from the oppressive grip of the wire. It was all for naught, however, as Dehja quickly flew back up half of the building with him in tow. "Shhh," she whispered soothingly in the soldier's helmet's sonic receptor as the Chiss strangled her mid-air, "shh. Its nothing personal."

Dehja rolled his weight one way shortly before sharply snapping his head the opposite direction, the result was a sickingly wet snap! in the soldier's neck. The struggling stopped not long after. The azure woman slowly flipped the ascender power level to a lower level, allowing it to only slow her decent towards the balcony. After she and the guard were safely on the ground she dragged the cooling cadaver into a side room and got to work.

~~~~

A sharp hiss of air escaped from her helmet as the unit self sealed, hiding her face perfectly while endowing her with the perfect disguise. "More like entomb," the woman thought as she tentatively picked up the blaster rifle and walked down the prison blocks the almost arrogant stride of an Imperial soldier. It wouldn't take long for her to get to Block IIIA, Cell 24, row 11 column B. Not long at all. The huntress keyed her comm unit three times. The other members of Sierra would hear this and know that she was in, any eavesdroppers would not.

The woman continued down the halls, her back straight as a board and blaster rifle held loosely at her hip. When the time came to actually fight something she'd be sure to cast the schutta's weapon at her foe, then use the distraction to unsheathe the short sword at her side and rend his flesh with its biting blade. Fortuitously the woman wouldn't need to use such tactics just yet, for she was still roaming the facility undetected. Dehja took a sudden turn to the right, off of her projected patrol pattern, and into the network administrator's office.

A corpulent man sat at the holo-monitor of a computer, he didn't even bother to to avert his eyes up to the "Sith" soldier who just walked into his room. "Yeah? Whaddya want," he asked in a nonchalant tone, not noticing that the soldier didn't stop walking. He looked up just as the door slid closed with a pneumatic hiss, just in time to see the blur of motion that was Dehja reaching for her sword. The cortosis alloy blade flung out of its scabbard and sliced through the air towards the man's neck.

It took less than a pound of pressure to cut the soft flesh of a human being, less around thin areas like the jugular vein. Her blade cut through the fat man's quadruple chin like a hot knife through butter, hurling the blood in a thin splatter line along the wall. The Chiss woman didn't even bother to watch the blood run through the surprised man's hands as they clutched onto his neck, she only wrapped an armored hand around his shoulder and threw him out of the way. He was dead in seconds.

Dehja pulled out one a slicing kit from one of her pockets and nearly plugged it into the terminal when she noticed that the administrator was still logged in. A smirk pursed her lips as she put the kit back into her pouch and began to wreak havoc with the Sith base's network. Before she even began to muddle with their network the woman would steal all the information she could and load it on an OSD. And she did. Unfortunately, the OSD couldn't hold all of the information that she could get her grubby little hacker paws on, but it was still juicy enough to help the Republic in some way, shape, or form.

With data mining through... she moved onto her "network deconstruction" tactics. Communication? Cut. But not just cut off... she looped a diagnostic feed at both the input and output signals, making it appear as if communication was still up in and out of the base.

Until a connection is attempted to be established... but even then it would just look like network trouble, definitely no reason for alarm. Dehja proceeded to change the gateway of as many devices on the network as she could, then changed the adresses of the routers... before shutting them down. She then proceeded to change all of the passwords that allowed for admin. entry into the network.

In short, she made a big ball-o-fun for even the now cooling network administrator to fix. A wide smile pursed her lips behind the helmet's visor as she changed the administrator password before logging out. After that all that it took her about a minute to open up the computer and break every last chipset and internal device she could find. Making it even harder to fix the network.

A wild grin contorted the azure features of her face as she picked up the blaster and walked out of the room... now to link up with Crosis and Slihm to complete this snatch 'n' grab.

[Jace]

The Feeorin could tell that his comrade was getting impatient. The Barabel were not known for sitting around idly. Some predators lay in wait for hours, others were aggressive in their tactics. Vangar was more inclined to the latter school of thought. Crosis had nothing against it, but sometimes patience was needed in their field of work.

Vangar once again told Crosis to follow his lead, and before he knew it, he was spat on. The Feeorin put on a look of distinct hate for the Sith trooper. He would get the Barabel back sometime in the future. Undoubtedly his comrade was attempting to stifle laughter at the very moment. The Feeorin remained silent for the time being, until they were clear of the trooper.

The Sergeant major studied their route, noting anything and everything. It was important for a soldier to keep tabs on their surroundings. When under fire, you may not have a leisurely time to soak in the environment. Thus by being observant, one can keep themselves alive even in the most disadvantageous situations.

There was now the question of what to do once they reached the brig. Guards would be present, which meant they would have to be dealt with at some point. They just had to decide when that would happen. It was nearing late evening, and extracting the prisoner at night would give them natural cover.

"Continue to play along, we won't make our move just yet. Note the location of the target, rendezvous with Dehja. We will execute extraction at 0100 hours."

Arriving at the brig moments later, Crosis resumed his air of hostility. Once the Barabel had conferred with the guards, he was unceremoniously tossed into one of the cells. Again, Crosis noted his surroundings, the cell, even the appearance of the guards. He also noted that he was not alone in the cell. The Feeorin remained silent until he was sure the guards were out of hearing distance.

A man stepped forward from the shadows in the corner, and Crosis immediately recognized him. His face was bleeding slightly and for the most part a ghoulish purple black. It seemed that his captivity had not been a pleasant one. Yet the man's eyes told the soldier that he had not told the Sith anything.

"You must be a spy too" he said in a weak voice

"In a manner of speaking, yes" replied the Feeorin. There was a long pause. The man was strong but could not hold back the despair he was feeling.

"Don't worry Mr.Rowe, we are going to get you out of here" stated Crosis with a small smile as he sat down on the lone bench.

[Dutch]

Vangar nodded as Crosis told him his orders just before getting tossed into the brig. The Barabel snarled at the inmates ferociously, his fangs bared and his voice harsh. A few Sith snickered appreciatively, but Slihm merely took it with a grain of salt. One of these days, they would feel the steel of his claws, and the heat of his breath upon their neck before he bit down.

But he turned away from Crosis and the brig, and began to make his way through the halls of the Sith compound, his tongue slipping from his mouth every now and then to taste the air, searching for Dehja. After some time, he finally got the light taste of the female Chiss, and began to head in her general direction. Unfortunately for him though, he also tasted several males of various species behind him, and have had been behind him for some time. Careful not to alert them of his knowledge of them following him, Slihm turned down a hall where he smelt no one. It wasn't long before he ended up at a dead end, with a single door.

Vangar pressed his palm onto the door button and stepped into what looked like an empty lecture room, many tables and chairs sat facing a single podium. Slihm moved quickly as the door shut behind him, sure the pursuers would be here soon. Claws unsheathed and dug into the wall as he scaled it, perched above the door with his black eyes turned downwards, waiting for the time to strike.

It happened not a second after he stopped at the ceiling, the door sliding open in time for Slihm to hear the men talking.

"I'm telling you, this scaly thing ain't Sith-"

The man didn't get to finish his sentence though, as the hunter began his attack. He dropped from the ceiling, the claws on his right foot digging into his neck as he fell, the reptile's tail swishing to knock the lock button for the door. Six men total, well, five now stood with Slihm between them and the door. A Rodian, a Twi'lek, and four humans. Easy pickings.

Slihm lunged forward, his claws extending as he launched. His right hand grabbed the Rodian's face, his left claws dug into the Twi'leks throat, and Slihm's jaws found the jugular in one of the human's neck. Vangar, slammed the Rodian and the Twi'lek's heads together, a sickening Crack! sounding as they collided. The human finally fell after the struggling stopped, his body falling limply.

The Barabel wasted no time with the last humans, his tail sweeping as he spun to take out their legs, the reptile instantly on them, claws digging and flesh tearing. It was over, and was fast, quiet, and ugly. Slihm stood and noted the blood that caked his body, quickly tearing some cloth from a corpse to wipe himself down. If he armor was bloody, it was obvious it was from prior combat, but blood on flesh never went over well.

When cleaned up, Slihm moved to leave, opening the door and then wrenching the door panel off to jam it as he stepped out of it. He picked up Dehja's scent once more, then continued to follow it. As he got closer, her smell got more potent, and it wasn't long before he knew she was very close.

[Dire Wolf]

The armored woman walked about the halls of the sith facility, playing the part of a sentry on her route. It was a fairly easy part, one that involved lots of walking, and the occasional head turn. But... something felt off. She always seemed to have an instinct for trouble, a gut feeling that told her when something was about to go horribly wrong. Dehja winced as she caught herself looking over her shoulder, which was the worst possible thing that could be done when one was in disguise. A quick coil of fear cast itself into the woman's chest, making her heart quicken to an uncomfortable pace. Her otherwise casual walk became almost stiff as she looked back over her shoulder, this time to see a trio of Sith Soldiers making a B line straight for her.

Something had to be done, and it had to be done fast.

Fortunately, according to the comm unit inside of her borrowed armor the three hadn't alerted anyone to a possible security breach, probably hoping to go to their superior and get a pat on the head for quick thinking. The chiss took a clandestine turn into a side room, it happened to be a vacant conference room. She hit the button on the pneumatic door, listening to the hiss of escaping air as the door slid shut. The woman walked to the center of the room and promptly unpolarized her visor, revealing her face behind the now transparent material.

As she waited for the three men to come through the door, she pulled the elegant short blade out of its scabbard. A menacing smirk crossed pursed Dehja's lips as a menacing glint trailed up the length of the cortosis alloy blade as it angled up towards the ceiling. The cerulean woman could not look completely threatining at first, however, that would simply cause her to be riddled with the ionized light that the troopers would let fly out of their blasters. So, she hid the blade behind her back... the first man to come close enough would lose his head. Her arm would become the catalyst of the storm of swipes that would follow, one that would leave all who stood before it in pieces.

It seemed like an eternity before the door finally opened, the hiss of air escaping out of the pneumatic mechanisms barely stifled by the hardened ceramic helmet. But... oddly enough, it wasn't three men clad in the emotionless armor of Sith Battle armor standing there in the door way. It was a somewhat familiar figure: Slihm. A long sigh escaped her lips as she brought the short sword back around to her front and slid it into its scabbard. "You're a lucky one, Slihm," she smiled as her visor turned to an opaque black, shielding her face, "if I was an idiot you'd be run through." It would have been nearly impossible to tell that the woman was joking by her tone of voice, which was calm and deadly serious. She had that problem.