Competition: [Parabellum Cycle 3] Fiction - For Duty or Glory

I used to prompt For the Brotherhood as the basis of my story. Not a lot of DH fist-to-cuffs in this one. Had DH go under cover under his name of Takagari KogaRyu and pose as a inspector. Just something different to play around with.

I had my childhood friend edit a proof this Retired Editor-in-Chief Dennis Mansfield of the Crawford County Avalanche (Hometown newspaper)

Razraf was tired of this. He had been hiding away on a transport for hours. He had been skulking through the ship, had dodged these fools as they wandered the ship. He had been nearly discovered not once, not twice, note even four times, but at least five times. People got bored when they were traveling through hyperspace, he figured. Or maybe they were tired of playing Pazaak, or reading, or whatever. He had been patient. That patience was quickly running thin.

They had to be making a lot of money here. That was the way that he had operated for some time: he followed the credits. There was a lot of money to be made here. He wanted to figure out what was going on. A grizzled alien entered the room. Green skin, odd snout, and if Razraf had really cared, he might have been able to put a name to the species. He really didn't care though. The creature peered around, his eyes widening as he noticed the movement by the Selonian. The creature even opened a mouth to say something, but like lightning, the Selonian Bounty Hunter raised his blaster and fired one, twice, and thrice. The body hit the ground. For several moments, he feared he had been discovered.

His pulse pounded in his ears. He was carrying a few weapons, but not enough to take on the whole ship. It would not do if he were so easily discovered. And yet, after several moments, it seemed that no footsteps moved to meet him. No backup arrived to back up their fallen ally. If anything, it seemed as though no soul had heard. He shook his head. Were they all so cut throat, or was he really deep enough in the depths of the transport to go unheard?

He considered the situation as he stalked forward. Perhaps, he considered as he dragged the body. Rodian, he realized. This creature was called a Rodian. Thankfully, this Rodian had not shot first. Otherwise, he might have been cut short of his goal. He had been quick on the draw, but if this body was to be discovered, he would be hard pressed to talk, or to shoot, his way out of this. Instead, he would continue his quiet vigil. He would sit among the cargo, and as soon as they landed, he would move out before he could be found. He would follow from a distance. He would find out who these business contacts were. He would discover who were the buyers, he would discover who were behind the sales. By threat or by manipulation, he would find himself a new source of fortune.

There was certainly a joy and a simplicity to his job. He was getting tired of hunting and killing, and it looked like this business could be his ticket out. He dragged the body back, and considering one of the crates, he popped it open. He started to stuff the body into a weapons crate. It would delay discovery, which would give him the advantage. However he played his cards, he planned to be a very wealthy, very happy Selonian.

**The Undercover Plagueian Jedi**

The missions just kept coming for Kalen, this would be his 24th operation since joining House Ventress two and a half months before. And that had included a weeks long trip to Arx where they had done only 3 missions in over 3 weeks.

“This is wild. I'm just too busy, I got all these missions. New house, new pets. 2 new business ventures it’s craziness I tell you. At some point I'm gonna have to slow down…you know what I mean?” He asked Reece, the hallucinatory, demented, but exceedlingly useful R3 droid hmwho was chilling with him on the bridge of Corra IV.

“Was waiting for this dude. Yeah you're running yourself ragged. Why don't you hand things over to me for a bit, take a little vacation, you can come back nice and refreshed.” Again, Reece thought that he was the main character and the humanoids were his sidekicks as he beep booped a response.

“You're really eager to step up and lead aren't you Reece. Its commendable, really, and you've got alot of experience too.” he replied to the droid who wiggled a bit in excitement, thinking that maybe this would be his chance. Maybe he'd be freed and could build his own crew, take his own gigs, and show that stuck up goofy goof R2 droid in all the news stories and holo-ocumentaries the what for. Much of Reece's drive and inspiration on life stemmed from a meeting with a blue and white punk R2 droid way back in 3 ABY. He'd never forget the rebuke, and had avoided a memory wipe ever since. And though his AI was beginning to hallucinate, and though his experiences had led him to have a demented sense of humour and worldview, he was a good person deep down inside, he knew it, and his new friends knew it, and his current owner Karracca certainly knew it.

Kalen punched in the coordinates where they were going to drop off a Brotherhood Inquisitores agent who was assigned to infiltrate the Severian principle and figure something about some weapons shipments or some such. Kalen hadn’t payed much attention to the brief, it was a standard drop off and pick up mission. He'd drop the dude off, bingo bango, he would stow away on a freighter that they suspected was going to be hijacked or rerouted or some karkin thing. Then, bippity bap, the guy would get the info, then jump off at the next service station the ship stopped at. Ziggity zam, Kalen picks him up. They head home with intel, bang, mission done. At least that's what Kalen thought was gonna happen.

“So. You want to give me a promotion then?” Reece asked.

“Oh, wait…uh, I mean. Yeah, sure. What kinna job you want? These Lancer class freighters are rated for a crew of 4-6 depending how we got the hardpoints configured…but sure how about Chief Navigation Officer, with the uh, rank of, I dunno, Junior Lt? Sounds good bud?”

Reece almost leapt out of his gears in excitement. “Are you karkin kidding me? Yeah that sounds good.” He rapidly booped and beeped.

And with that the Corra IV added its 3rd Officer and member of the crew. A senile old R3 droid.

Oh yeah…the mission. Almost forgot about that. So yeah, the stowaway Brotherhood spy dude ended up finding out that it was a group of freighter captains that were siphoning off all the weapons shipments and pocketing the profits. The Brotherhood then quietly had the freighter skippers killed in quite a gruesome and public fashion and their ships were impounded and seized.

Creon wasn't certain on the larger scope of the situation for the mission he was involved with. His time spent away from Brotherhood matters in the peaceful villa of Naboo kept him unaware of the ongoings within the unknown regions the Brotherhood operated in. His return and transition from the Odanites to Naga Sadow had changed the atmosphere of his progression in the jedi arts, light or dark. Yet the work was always similar no matter where he went. Unfortunately, he had not the upbringing with planned parenthood to specialize him in a skill or trade, and thus his only value is his expendability. This often put him in jobs that required conflict management, security, or covert operations. Like so many other warriors before him he rolled the dice with his life to make a living. He was not alone, however, for an entire squad of sadowans was on this mission. The cargo value was not only too expensive to account for loss, but if reverse engineered could turn the tides of war against the Brotherhood. This was all Creon needed to know for his work. His squad pulled regular shifts, and indeed there were many days of peace where it seemed little over a simple courier job. It wasn't until after a month that the enemy made their second attempt. Security breaches were sporadic, and often many will think the window of opportunity for heists would be done when peace and time lets one's guard down. Vigilance and patience kept the team alert, and when the terrorists came to make claim of the weapon's cache, they instead found a squad of Force Users. There wasn't violence, for the men had good sense to surrender. Though this didn't help in their mistreatment when tortured and interrogated for information. The Sadowans squeezed what little sanity these thieves had, and names were spilled of all who were involved that led to their involvement. These men were hired by a third party mercenary group in order to both prevent a direct correlation to their employer, and to not expend their own organic resources for reclamation missions. They were not the only one’s hired, as this was an open job posting available for all willing to support in sabotaging the brotherhood’s efforts. Upon retirement back to his quarters from a smooth mission’s success, Creon took upon himself to look into these names, and find out just what the Brotherhood had been up to during his absence. Of course they were always busy, with a struggle with something new around every corner. It gave Creon a depressed feeling, worrying that not only would the multiple factions put the council at a war front with too many adversaries at once. Resources would need to be spread, which will eat them from the inside out. This doesn’t also discount the natural competitive drive of the Sith, which all in once has dwindled the populous of membership further approaching desolation. In contemplating this introspection of plausible foresight, it would take much work for Creon to help support a revival. But is that the will of the ruling caste?

He shook his head. Too many thoughts after a long day from another simple and smooth success job. The worse has yet to come. He needed to train and prepare for what comes next.