"How has that idiot not been fired yet?"  

She yelled at the officer, Lekku tips jamming into her back ferociously, a battle droid leg jabbing into his chest like a pointer.  The officer visibly shuddered with each poke, mouth working silently at an apology before she thrust a datapad into his hands.  "This was supposed to be one of my slicing remotes.  And what am I supposed to do with this?" 

He raised it to his eyes, squinting in the bright light as he pressed a button.  The braying sound of a Nerf's mating call spilled from the datapad's tiny speaker.  Confusion crossed his face, as he raised it to look at it closer.  Leena sprang into action, the squelch of unfurling bonding tape hidden behind the animal noises before she wrapped the adhesive around his hands, the datapad and his head, knocking his officer's hat to the ground as he started to struggle.  Every movement jammed his nose into the datapad's touch sensors, making the device erupt in more wild sounds.  To his credit, he held composure fairly well until she knocked his legs out from under him, leaning over him with a menacing tone.  "If that Rodian isn't fired by dinner, i'm going to rewire your innards so that you have to eat backwards."

Muz watched, the Twi'lek saying aloud what they were all thinking.  It was the second time in recent memory that the Rodian calling himself a quartermaster had completely lost track of their gear.  And again, rather than the locked crates that they usually had shipped to the forward bases, brightly colored and sloppily painted crates arrived instead.  

Doc rummaged through another one, the clone laughing in abject horror as he looked back up.  "Who needs grenades?  We've got rocks!"   Muz stepped over, leaving Leena to terrorize the logistics officer as he looked over Doc's shoulder.  "Well, at least there's..."  Doc fished out what looked to be a slugthrower, knocking strands of shredded paper away from the metal.  Quick hands worked the bolt of the weapon, finding the magazine plate welded shut and a round chambered.   He threw his head back and roared in laughter.  "One shot!"  

"And a bottle of Malort."  Muz's eyes narrowed.  The spirit was revolting.  Not high proof enough to light fires, it was only useful as a deterrent to alcoholism.  

"One shot and a bottle for shots...wait."  Doc looked up.  "Malort?  Like 'tonight you fight your father' Malort?"

"Tastes like a Mon Cal medical dumpster that's been stranded on Tatooine?"  Leena moved to his side, looking at the bottle.  "Yeah, that's the stuff."  

Doc shuddered, then looked past her at the officer, now missing a big patch of hair as he walked away rather quickly.  "Any clue where our gear is?"

Leena glared at him.  

The hiss of engines firing  punctuated the sound of the ramp of the transport retracting.  A shrill sound echoed back from the crate, drawing their attention before the maneuvering jets drowned it out.  Leena reached in, pushing the packing material aside, looking for the source.  

"So, uhhh, what was the mission again?"

"Collective infiltrator, you know, like we always get.  Devious little parasites."  Doc snarled.

"Hey, they're kinda cute."  Leena stood back up, the little seabird in her hand.  "Probably invasive, though."  

"No, I meant the...nevermind."  Doc sighed. "So, what's the plan?  I mean, you guys always have your sabers on you, 'this weapon is your life' and all that, right?"

Muz looked at him sideways.

"Okay, better plan."  Leena pet the porg in her arms, her Lekku twisting slightly.  "Walking Superweapon here 'goes for a walk', does the handwave thingy and uhhh... 'tests the medical plans' of anyone who he senses is a traitor.  Then we pour Malort down his throat until he cries for death or gives up his buddies."  Leena looked at the bottle again.  "Probably won't take more than three shots, honestly."

Doc nodded, turning the slugthrower in his hands.  "And we'll just defend our landing zone with a single shot boomstick and an undercooked dinner, cool."  

"Hey, we've done more with...Well, okay, maybe not."  Leena sat the porg down and watched it flap about a bit.  Muz started to move toward the path, the worn down grass path between the trees that led toward the prefab base that the clan had dropped in a month ago abouth a mile from their landing site.  "Oh, and one other thing Bentre asked."

Muz paused turning his head slightly.  

"Let me see if i remember the exact words."  She tapped her head.  "Oh right: 'Please don't kill everyone this time'." 

Muz let a smile touch his eyes.  "No promises."