Private To Kill a Jedi

[Adetfelia Kenivar]

"The report you have requested, Admiral"

The smile with which the Twi'lek ensign offered the datapad was taunting, to Adetfelia. A tragic irony, blend in with utter ignorance of the real gravity of the situations being experienced made the ensign look like a careless child, to the Admiral's eyes. Was it indeed ignorance? Was the ensign truly blind to the happenings around her? Or was it another cooping mechanism crafted by her subconciousness to keep the Twi'lek's mind clear for the tasks bestowed upon her by rank and necessity?

"Thank you, that will be all" the Admiral nodded. Her facial muscle memory kicking into motion, meeting the Twi'lek's smile with her own, before making her way around the oval office, to further her study of the report.

She was a Zabrak of brown shade and black tattoos, remnants of the tribal origins of her peoples, long buried beneath layers of etiquette and Republic Naval outfits. Her senses stretched, after a day's operations control and fleet monitoring. Now, she had a moment to breathe. It was her choice to pursue a career in the Republic Navy instead of the Jedi Order, back when she was given the chance to wield the Lightsaber. Unlike most Force Sensitives who rushed to the Temple, for her, it was the Academy, and then, the deck. A life among the Stars, the spearhead of the free systems and defender of the Republic, with prospect of mustering enough firepower to overwhelm any singular lightsaber plasma blade any day. Numerous, was always better than one, for Adetfelia.

As the years passed, she grew to pay the price of her choices. The information within the report she now browsed through, was a bitter reminder of that. RNS Glory; Out of Commission. RNS Liberty of Tython; Out of Commission. RNS Coruscant's Star: Damaged.

The more she scrolled, the more the reports of casualties flooding her eyes with bitter truths of the war the Republic had waged for the better part of three decades. According to the scholars, that would be three wars, with long periods of "peace" inbetween. That was what the younger generations were being told back in the Core Worlds. But Adetfelia knew better of it. Although she completely understood the reasoning behind such propaganda, in her core, she could feel the wrongness of the practice.

Finally, she stumbled upon the final bit of the report: A fragmented list of casualties and old damaged naval assets, from a battle fought almost a hundred rotations ago, on a planet long catalogued as Occupied: Agrilon IX. Her fingertip hovered over the name. She knew quite well what was recorded as a strategic victory, for the Republic Navy and by extend the Senate's foul politics, was a bitter defeat she had suffered twice. Yet the latter never reached the official reports, although word of it had yet jeopardized her rank and career already. A backlash she still felt.

Her mind would spiral yet again in her fear of whether her decision to commit to a lost campaign was driven by ideal, zeal, or simply selfishness, if only for the beeping of the office's comlink snapping her back to reality.

"Admiral Kenivar" the voice through the comm sounded. "The... contractor, is here..."

The contractor. A final, perhaps vain attempt to right her wrong. Although the strict orders from the Assembly forbade her to do so, Adetfelia narrowed her eyes in the stubborness that had by now defined her doctrine.

"Send them in" she replied, with her newfound determination audible in her tone. She then stood up, adjusting her uniform jacket on her, before turning to the view of the wide window behind the office.

The planet of Alesia was a metropolis. The local Republic personnel, within the huge naval base the planet hosted, called Alesia the "Little Coruscant". Aesthetically more archaic, and on certain aspects much more elegant, in comparison, Alesia had been a trade centre for the sector, fed with activity by a lesser branch of the Giju Trade Route. Decades ago, Alesia experienced a booming economy, with the old government allying themselves with the Republic in the view of the First Galactic War. After years of thriving tarrifs and trade from the Republic, and a continiuously increasing sentiment towards the Core, and a crushingly successful referendum, Alesia became an official member of the Republic. Ever since, the military and naval presence of the Republic increased drastically, including the construction of the Sky Spire. A colossal construction that connected an artificial orbiting station with the ground, becoming the largest refuelling and repairs centre for Navy ships in the entire sector.

And yet, regardless the feeling of safety and supremacy Alesia offered to any who rested eyes upon the planet, Adetfelia knew the bitter truth of what lied beyond the Hyperlane, in the nearby Kantiir Sector... A war that had costed the lives of millions, ever expanding towards main Republic Territory. A threat, Adetfelia had little ways of countering anymore. Alas. This little good she could do through the help of third-party associates, she hoped to make due, until the time came for a new strategy enforced from the Assemblies...

 

[James 'Slinger' Antilles]

Slinger was itching as he made his way through the security checkpoints. He didn’t like being here being called up by the brass. James wasn’t entirely sure whether, he was a wanted man, whether he’d been declared awol or whether this was his ticket to reenlistment. James was fairly sure he’d been flagged by the law once or twice or a dozen times. Still that would mean an arrest not ‘an exciting opportunity. When you were being called up to top brass’s office it was never a good thing. At least not when you were a spacer, a fringer, a smuggler, a thief, an outlaw.

When you were any one of those things the last thing you wanted or needed was to be on an admirals radar let alone ‘firmly invited’ under ‘armed escort’ for ‘his protection. James didn’t even know what he was there for. Apparently it was an ‘exciting opportunity’. It had been awhile since James had actively been involved in the military but the brass bullshit came back fluently.

The fact that the Republic had suffered yet another crushing defeat did nothing to ease Slinger’s mind. As far as he was concerned that’s when militaries started recalling, calling up and otherwise conscripting poor hapless fools to be blaster fodder for their cause. Slinger had left that doomed cause a long time ago.

Not that he liked the Sith any better.

James sighed.

The rigors of a strict military life weren’t for him. James needed freedom, without freedom he couldn’t be Slinger, and he liked being Slinger. Following the stars wherever it may take him. One job to the next. That’s how Slinger liked to live his life.

Now here he was in the centre of the bloody war effort. Again. James had been hoping they had forgot about him. Last time he’d spoken to an admiral it had been when they had pinned some war medals on his chest. That time he had flown in under heavy fire rescued a stranded patrol behind enemy lines. Not an easy thing to do in a corvette. What the official report hadn’t mentioned is that he had done it by disobeying orders and stealing the corvette. The brass had decided a rescue mission and turning him into a war hero played better on their propaganda spin.

James snorted and sighed shaking his head.

Admiralty only cared about what played right not actually doing right. A part of the naïve young soldier boy in him liked the idea of serving the republic navy of fighting the good fight and for a good cause. To give it all. Even his life if necessary. But. That kid was dead he died a long time ago. Besides admiralty only cared about what played right not actually doing right.

Still maybe he was looking at this the wrong way. Maybe this was just another turn of the cards. Other play on the holoboard. If they conscripted him he’d just have to escape when the time was right. Until then he’d just have to play the hands, bet small until he got a better hand. Right now he just had to stay in the game. Not get out played, overextended and deep in shit.

Because the game was survival and deep shit was deep shit.

He should treat this like any other job. Any other client. Take the job. Do the job. Look for the next one. That’s it just another job. He’d done jobs for client’s he hadn’t particularly liked before. One of his last jobs had been with a cannibal. Nice enough guy though once James had put his foot down about the whole eating people alive. Least the admiral wasn’t a cannibal. Atleast he hoped not and if she was would have the good sense to keep it to herself. Just another client. Just another job.

James thoughts were rambling, he was nervous. He hadn’t been this nervous with the crime lords, scumbags or even the cannibal. This was a woman who could literally ruin James life. End Slinger’s freedom forever. Not that he’d let her know that.

James grimaced and walked into the Admirals office.

She was cute. James had never been with an admiral before. Zabraks plenty of times. Admiral would be a first.

“So here I am at your ‘firm invitation’ under ‘armed escort’ for an ‘exciting opportunity’” James asked with a cocky smirk “You know it’s been years since I was in the reg’s but amazing how quickly brass jargon comes back to you.”

James grunted and sat down in the chair opposite and kicked his boots up on the desk. James yawned while he put his hands behind his head.

“So why am I here? You got a job for me?”

James started picking at his teeth while waiting for an answer. James had to remind himself that the admiral was having a bad day. So he got a kick out of throwing some disrespect at a brass let alone an admiral. No dressing him down for not standing at attention.

@Adetfelia Kenivar

 

[Adetfelia Kenivar]

Adetfelia turned her gaze from the view, to the newly arrived contractor, or at least, about-to-be, by a spin on her heels. She offered a smile, reflective of her muscle memory on formal etiquette, rather than any real joy by seeing James himself. She followed the man with her gaze, as he made his way to the chair, and carelessly resting his boots on her rather heavy loaded office, full of paperwork, files, holopads, and other administrative materials.

"Your file was interesting to read, mr Antilles." the Admiral spoke. Her voice kind, deprived of any harshness rather common among those of her standing. Instead, she chose to adopt a tranquility-inspiring tone, stable and calculated, with a strange warmth befitting to a Jedi Consular rather than any other, especially in uniform.

"Decorated with the Medal of Valor. Medal of Bravery, for saving comrades?" the Admiral continued. "And yet" she then turned the chair and took a seat opposite to him. She seemed unbothered by his boots, effectivelly partially blocking the view to his face. She ignored the act, translating it as a test of flexibility and intent, which she was willing to grant, for now. "Seems like you have lost faith in the uniform, have you, mr Antilles?"

She rested her hands on her abdomen, leaning back on her seat.

"The reason I have asked for you specifically is because I sensed you being the one most suitable for the task at hand. Unfortunatelly, the Assemblies do not feel like I do for lost territories. But I believe you will, to an extend. There has been tension on the Kantiir Sector for the past couple of years." Adetfelia explained. "The Republic suffered numerous defeats against the Imperial forces and now, we are all but kicked from the sector. The main star system and control station, on Agrilon IX, was lost with significant planetary forces isolated in the system. Athough attempts were made to rescue them, I am afraid the Assemblies have forbade any further action beyond the Void Sea. Something which has left our troops stranded, in Imperial territory."

The events expositioned by the Admiral were no secret, in the Republic. Although most of the mainstream holonetwork meticulously avoided from mention, the underworld was revelling to their developments. It had been years ever since the Republic Storm, the grand offensive that broke the entire Kantiir Sector from Imperial colonies and sympathizers, only to be countered by an even larger spearhead of the Sith, establishing a frontier that was marked by attrocities, bloody engagements and betrayals from neutral worlds, as well as the destruction of three Republic worlds. Both sides had employed huge numbers of mercenaries to bolster their armies, delving in black operations and sabotage efforts that devolved the war into a spiteful vendetta between the 6th Imperial Fleet and the 32nd "Alesian" Republic Fleet. After some three years, the casualties combined were darted to the millions, enough for the senate to demand the Assemblies to prohibit any further offensives, given the cost in life and materiel had been far too much for the Republic to continue endorsing it.

Ever since that event, Admiral Adetfelia Kenivar, the appointed commander of the Republic forces after the death of the past Admiral during the first Battle of Agrilon, adopted a much more conservative strategy and for the most part cleared the Republic military from most mercenary detachments. Something that only fed more blasters to the now renown Kallina Rives, warlord of the mercenary horde funded by the Sith in the sector.

Alas, Adetfelia's tactics had halted the Imperial advance for a long period, save for the grand defeat in Agrilon, where half the troops and most of the navy was lost, or stranded on the planet Agrilon IX. Word had it that she had orchestrated a major black operation to break through the Imperial blockade, yet to no avail.

"The job I require of you comes with no little obstacle. I am not in position to offer the monetary compensation befitting such a contract, however, I would like to extend an offer. Given your record, I understand you have been a frequent interest of the law. I am willing to provide a contract, stamped and sealed by the Assembly, as a third-party associate of the Navy's logistics. A civilian contractor, as far as the Assemblies are concerned, of course. After a duration, I can apply for reevaluation of your records."

A bargain, on many levels, Adetfelia knew the tasks requested would not be much appealing to any ordinary bounty hunter, given the pay would not reflect their risk. What she counted on, was the implied benefit her proposition could carry along. Benefits that she knew, an underworlder, within reason, would recognized, without the need to be voiced.

As a contractor of the Navy, his ship would be cleared of tarrifs or inspections from civilian ports, drastically impacting the cost of transporting goods onboard. A practice many among the Navy utilized to earn some additional credits on the side. Smuggling. The more appealing bit of the offer, though, would not be the capacity of exploiting such an arrangement, as that was clearly to compensate the lack of sufficient monetary reward for what would clearly be -military level- missions in which Republic Navy or Military was too risky to involve. Oh no, the real reward was the last of her words.

To have an input with the Navy in a forward sector was one thing. To be given the favour of a Navy Admiral, was quite another. Although under the Assemblies, in essense, individuals of such authority and rank within the Republic were oftentimes weighted by political aspirations or even, influence that extended to the legal networks of the Republic's chaotic legislation. Adetfelia was unwilling, or otherwise unable to truly recognize the man as far as medals, or reputation went. However, she was planning to make due of that void by using what could be her influence to alter certain black spots on Antilles' criminal record...

 

[James 'Slinger' Antilles]

Slinger grinned unabashedly as he saw the admiral twitch ever so slightly at him putting his feet on her desk. It was a small tick one that suggested her smile was reflexive then genuine. It was in the eyes. James knew a smile wasn’t genuine by the eyes. Years of studying his opponent on the sabacc table. James felt a little thrill at tweaking the Admirals nose for propriety. That was as reflexive as her smile he knew, getting a cheap thrill out of a small act of rebellion he’d never have gotten away with as a man in uniform.

“Aw shuck’s thanks I try. Tried pitching that file to a holofilm producer once. They said the only thing missing was a stunning non human femme fatale. Holowood these days it’s all about the diversity. Hey you interested? I’m sure we could get a production company like that” James snapped his fingers. “What do you say republic admiral falls for rougeish hero on the frontlines of war. Has a nice ring to it don’t it?”

James shrugged

“I like to think the uniform lost faith in me. You should know you’re the one out here fighting battles against a Sith onslaught, but hamstrung by politics in the senate as much as offensives by the Sith.”

James picked his nose absently and flicked it across the room. He’d been dragged half way across the galaxy for this meeting he might as well have some fun while he was here. James had decided he was going to do every little thing a man in uniform couldn’t or shouldn’t do in front of an admiral. Passive aggressive sure. Petty. Absolutely. Fun. Definitely.

“Hells the only reason you’d come to a guy like me is if you had no other choice which means they either cut your funding or they cut their support.” James analysed with a dramatic sigh and shaking his head “What’s the galaxy coming to high and mighty admirals having to reason to fringe scum like myself.”

James eyed the Admiral to see if he was getting to her. She maintained military posture as she finished her pitch. She seemed an unflappable type, but in Slinger’s experience that just meant everything was boiling just under the surface. A lot of bitterness in these stoic types. James suspected it was because they weren’t ever allowed to show joy.

James had of course heard on the underworld wire, and truthfully is personal scanner what had happened. A Smuggler needed to know where the ever shifting borders and who won where was. Getting past a Republic blockade and getting past a Sith blockade took different kinds of finess. Republic had laws. Sith didn’t. There were advantageous to both schools where a smuggler was concerned. Sith were generally more straightforward about bribes. More likely to kill you out of hand.

Slinger snorted when he learnt the Assembly weren’t allowing the rescue of soldiers behind enemy lines.

“Typical send them to fight, kill and die for you but when they need you leave them to rot or worse. It’s karabas like that that cost me- or gained me however you prefer- those medals. So what do you want me to do. I’m good but I don’t think even I can rescue half of your troops behind enemy lines.”

Truthfully James was sympathetic to those soldiers having been in there situation himself once or twice, but he was only one man. Besides this wasn’t his fight. Not anymore. The uniform didn’t want him. Which he supposed was a relief. At least he wasn’t being conscripted like he half worried he’d been about to be.

James frowned as he considered the pot of credits on the table. James tended to think of all deals, businesses, contracts in terms of sabacc. James expected the admiral was more partial to holochess. Holochess players were tricky, but they focused on the board not the player.

A free pass across republic tariffs and checkpoints. Yeah that was tempting. He could picture himself smiling to custom agents who had arrested and waving as he walked on through. It was a tempting thought, but this wasn’t Slinger’s fight. Not anymore. Still the favour of an Admiral. He’d heard of political weasels who had had it while he was in uniform. Maybe he could do some good with it. At the very least he should find out what the job is.

“You still haven’t told me what the job is?” James lost the cocky attitude as he asked his eyes intent on the admiral. “Like I said I’m good but I can’t rescue half your soldiers. Maybe a squad or even a platoon we pack them in my ship tight enough.”

“Before I even consider the job I need to know what the job is, and even then before I even consider the job I need to know what the terms are. Is this a one time thing? Or do you expect an ongoing basis? Can I do the job and walk away with the free ticket guaranteed?”

James said the last with a wry doubtful sarcasm. He knew a deal too good to be true, he continued to go through it in his mind airing his thoughts as he went through the angles.

“I’d ask why me, but then I’m expendable and deniable so I’ll skip that one, but why not a black ops unit even the Assembly doesn’t know about? You must have one of those lying about.”

There were always rumours about such units even when he’d been a raw recruit. Some fools even aspired to be in them. James smelled a trap asking him to go all in on a sticky pot only to be beaten by a better hand. Part of him wanted to just say no and walk away, but then he wouldn’t be much of a gambler if he did would he?

“So what is it exactly you want from me Admiral?” James kicked his feet off the desk and leaned forward resting his arms on his knees, staring the Admiral in the eyes.

@Adetfelia Kenivar

 

[Adetfelia Kenivar]

Holowood...?

The man just mentioned Holowood!?

A myriad thoughts, questions, doubts, regrets and disciplinary words stormed the Admiral's mind. Part of her wanted to call the man for the ungrateful words he spoke, and the many ways in which he demonstrated his ignorance to so many things that were far above him... Then again-

He was right. Adetfelia saw through his brave words and taunting attitude, that Antilles had lost something she had always struggled to maintain: Faith.
How else could a man be so ignorant and so provocative, if not for the loss of faith? To what, after all? The Navy? Her own state was the living proof that even with the sacrifice of untold thousands, still the very mission of the Navy was lost behind political benefit and propaganda. It was such the very reason she had called for a man like him to begin with. Was that not proof enough his take was not mistaken? Adetfelia avoided answering that question...

His following claim yet another strike to her rank's integrity. Once again.... Not mistaken...

"The state of affairs in the Republic Assemblies is no secret, mr Antilles." she responded, entering willingly the game of wits he initiated. She had already made her name in the higher ups as a rogue, after all. She might as well use it to her advantage here, now speaking with someone unattached to the network like so many others. "My disagreement in their ways is no secret either. But I still wear the uniform that has perhaps lost meaning for you to do the same. To me, the ability to protect those I can, in the ways the uniform offers is still something I value. By wearing it, though, I ought to play the game the way the higher ups dictate. That does not mean I play fair..." she smirked for emphasis.

His following, perhaps rhetoric inquiry caused the Admiral to break a smile. She looked down at her intertwined fingers. After a moment of contemplation, she turned her gaze back to the man.

"For a man of your caliber, mr Antilles, I expected to know the long history of high and mighty individuals consorting with the likes of much lesser than you, to achieve their goals. It is, you see, the benefit your kind provides, the uniform cannot have. You are someone who does not abide by our rules of engagement. Is not biased by certain protocols of trainning. And..." she shook her shoulders, as if recognizing the one-sidedness of her following statement. "You do not appear to any casualty lists."

The Admiral did not hesitate to be quite factual about the reasoning of her approach.

James' take on the situation on Agrilon IX finally struck a nerve on Adetfelia. Once again, he was right. Indeed, her Navy failed to stand when the Army needed it the most. Was that a fault of her own making? It was the higher ups that forbade her to act on retaliation. But... Again... Was it her fault? Her sin? She prefered not to address that. On her line of work, even the slightest mistakes costed more lives than any other, and thus more weight on one's self to take said decisions. Interference of external factors did not really change the fact it was the -admiral's- choices that led to the situation at hand...

"It would be to my benefit to argue on that, mr Antilles. But I am afraid that after so many years of conflicts, we have reached a point where one's job description and the actual performance are not that much in alignment. We live in a Republic where the Core demands victories, the Colonies demand exports, and the Mid Rim begs for a ceasefire... If it was up to me, we would have never pulled from Kantiir. But, you see, unlike the Sith, the Republic navy is funded and commissioned by the Assemblies, not the ones who actually lead the flottilas. I am not interested, though, to change that, for I know the impact such a change may bring. And the legal reprocautions of it... But the fact of the matter is, I do not serve for the rank, but for the result it can yield. I was the one who planted those boots on the ground. If I have a way to bring them home, I will. This, is where you come into play."

The Admiral leaned over the table and tossed a chip over to James' boots.

"To act, we must first know. And I do not. I plan on changing that. Few months ago, a Jedi Task Force breached the Imperial blockade on Agrilon system. The reinforcements and materiel that made it to the planetside were sufficient to change the balance on the ground for a duration."

The numbers implied were astronomical. Should the Admiral did not overexaggerated, a Jedi Task Force could be anywhere over five hundred Jedi. A whole army, capable to take on entire systems, judging by the earlier years of the war. For such to be the case, the conflict was indeed dire in Kantiir, given this was only for a single star system, if not for a single planet. To require such assistance, it only hinted to the Imperial presence...

"Your job won't be to salvage all of our elements on Agrilon, but to extract an operative who will allow us to re-establish contact with them. If the Jedi have achieved their tasks, then the Agrilon system will be vulnerable by now. Unfortunatelly, our intelligence are lacking, due to the complexity of the situation... The Imperials have held a blockade on the system ever since the beginning of the conflict. Any republic forces were scattered. The main objective was Agrilon VII. A small planet that served as a Navy headquarter and refuelling station for the Republic. The main target of the Imperials, when they first invaded. The mission is for you to get past the blockade, into Agrilon VII, and extract Jedi Master Aola Cliyerslan Vilbolra. She is the key to this operation. She must make it to Alesia, alive. Any intelligence available to you, they are in there..."
she gestured towards the chip.

"If you pull this through, my offer stands. Should you choose, then my offer stands. I shall not hold you by chains. If you choose to walk, then it will be your choice. I have no interest in blackmails, or mutual resentment deals."

 

[James 'Slinger' Antilles]

James raised an eyebrow and a sardonic smile as the Admiral expounded on the virtues of the uniform. Karabas. Had he really believed all that kudu once? James thought back to distant memories and realised he had. Although it was as much a young man needing a place in the universe. Even as a grunt. Especially as a grunt, James had never had much faith in the Assembly or the Brass. Still if this one was to be believed she was different. At the very least she was trying to send him on a job to actually help the boys and girls in the boots on the ground. If James had still been that wide eyed rookie he might even have volunteered for this mission.

He supposed she wasn’t the worst contract he’d ever accepted. She was honest enough which was refreshing. Two bit gangsters he was used to dealing with were always trying to swindle him out of his fair share. The fact that his fair share often came from stolen or otherwise suspect goods was irrelevant. James let out a bark of laughter at not appearing on any casualty lists.

“I suppose that means I’m also not eligible for another one of those shiny medals?” James asked with a grin. “Pity they make good sabacc collateral when your down on credits.” James turned thoughtful. “Well I’m glad to hear I won’t be hamstrung by any suicidal rules of engagement. Asking your opponent to politely put his blaster down has never been my style.”

James frowned thoughtfully, weighing the stakes, trying to assess the Admiral. She’d make a decent Sabacc player he decided, she kept her feelings close to the chest and showed little reaction, beyond the odd irritation. James could tell that his points hit home and that he was bothering her, but she wouldn’t let that sway her from her mission objectives. The first step of which was getting James to take the job.

He’d had worst clients, but what worried him was the next client. People started hearing Slinger takes jobs for the Republic they might start getting nervous about what he might say. Last thing he needed in exchange for a free pass to republic ports was a black mark against him in all the illegitimate ports. James knew just enough to make certain smuggling runs awkward should the Republic ever tear itself away from the Sith long enough to pursue them. On the other hand what’s life without a little gamble.

“What’s the job?” James insisted finally.

Gambling was going to be the death of him.

James listened carefully as the Admiral outlined the extraction. Well atleast someone in the higher ups had managed to get the Jedi off their asses and do something about those left behind. Usually Jedi were reserved for when they knew they were going to be facing Sith. They were often stretched thin as was. James suspected Jedi were rarer then Sith or atleast the Sith seemed to have more acolytes. It was if their side, the dark side was easier. Though the fact they focused on combat and not philosophy probably helped.

“So Jedi Master Vibrola.” James pondered thoughtfully. Grunting when the Admiral made it clear he was free to go. So he wasn’t being press ganged after all. That was nice of her. She did technically hold him and his ship in her custody after all. It wouldn’t be hard to tell him to do it or he’d disappear to some prison colony. So he had a choice. Did that change anything? He could walk out of here anytime he liked.

Do it. Walk out now.

He had every reason to. The job was too risky, too high profile even if he did pull it off. Best case it added to his legend. Worst case he’d be a pariah in his own circles. Probably wouldn’t even be welcome at a sabacc table with his ship on the line.

“I’ll do it.” James nodded then frowned and sucked his teeth in a click in instant regret. James huffed and shook his head, cursing himself with a mutter under his breath “Bloody idiot going to get my self killed.”

James glanced up and caught the Admiral in the eye.

“If this helps the boys on the ground- against my better judgement- I’ll do it. Time was I was one of those lugs on the ground. Though don’t think I’ve forgotten about that juicy little hall pass. I’ll fly the blockade pick up your Jedi and back. One job. I’m not signing up to enlist again, and don’t think I’ll stand to attention with a stick up my ass and salute like your impressive visual glares brightly in my eye.”

James scowled and grumbled while he said it constantly berating himself inside his own head. A small part of him told him it wasn’t too late to back out. He could-He should leave. Right now. Back out before it’s too late.

Back out like the Admiralty and Assembly did. Leave those men to rot.

The thought hardened his resolve. If the wrong battle had gone the wrong way he’d be there with them. Hell if things had gone right in his own life he could be there. James had long since lost faith in the service, but he hadn’t lost faith for those fighting for it.

Besides a hall pass for every Republic port he came across. That could make business very lucrative. Time of war there was always black market opportunities.. People who needed help. People who the system, the military overlooked, forgot about or just didn’t have the time for. Rations, medicine, refugees. With a small profit for Slinger of course.

James mind turned to the details of what he would need for the job.

“I’ll need clearance codes until I leave Republic space and lines. So that no trigger-happy gunner or captain thinks they can take me as a prize. Make sure they’re valid for the way back as well.”

“What’s Vibrola look like? Where’s the rendezvous point? What’s my pass code so she knows I’m her contact?” James asked “I know how much you lot love pass codes in hush hush operations like this one.”

@Adetfelia Kenivar

 

[Adetfelia Kenivar]

The mental stretch put on the man was hardly noticeable by the naked eye. A man of his trade would be more than familiar with such bargains, Adetfelia thought, not really caring of the situations delving into, so long the reward was sufficient of his trouble. And yet, Adetfelia could sense something different about Antilles. The way he spoke hinted to the processing within him, as the Admiral laid out the mission for him.

"I'll do it."

The phrase was most pleasing to the Admiral's ears. A part of her felt this was a vain endeavour. She had experience in engaging Jedi Enclaves and organizing different branches to work together, yet when it came for mercenaries, it was she herself who had rid the navy off them in the early days of her commission. And now? Now she was the one hiring them back in...

Ah, how the war changes us all, she thought to herself.

"The deal is for one job. If this cooperation is to continue, it would not mean you would be intergrated to the ranks, mr Antilles." Adetfelia reassured the man, who seemed to have clearly an ill taste from his time in the uniform. She couldn't judge. In a way, they shared this distaste. As of Adetfelia, though, she chose to presist, in view of the higher cause, while Antilles had apparently abandoned any cause surrounding the mess that was the Republic armed forces. "A... third-party supplier would be a better fitting description of your relation to the 32nd Fleet... At least as far as bureaucracy goes."
She shook her head to the reference of military etiquette and respect protocols, by James. It became more and more apparent the reasons of his abandonment of the uniform.

"Protocols are for uniformed personnel, mr Antilles. A way to keep the sense of control to the lower ranks and allow a psychological comfort to the higher ups, to keep up their tasks. Without them, there can be no discipline when half the troops face the panic all face during missions. A defence mechanism, if you will. Of course... Not all benefit from such practice, thus not all fit for service. But..."
she looked at James.

"That does not mean they cannot do what feels right."

She wanted to keep up. To say that it would take a much better man to fight for the cause the uniforms do. To be a part of something so big, to serve next to millions of troops, all of which's flaws lost behind etiquette and ranks and uniforms and numbers, was easy. It was a way to add numbers to one's ranks.

But to be rid of all these, and still find the courage to partake? Well, that, required bravery. A trait that perhaps even she, Adetfelia reasoned in her mind, might not have enough of to commit. But if James did, she pledged, she would do what had to be done, for him to do what had to be done. And the fact he accepted this first task, meant that he had what it took. Or at least... he might have.

"Clearances and necessary passes will be forwarded to your ship's log. You will have access to them by the time you get back to the hangars. It is wise to keep in mind, mr Antilles, that these benefits will be of use while within the Alesian Run territory. Beyond the Giju, I will not be able to provide such. I do expect you to use them prudently."

"Master Aola Cliyerslan Vilbolra is a Twi'lek of blue skin" Adetfelia replied to James' inquiry. "She had taken the role of a General, upon landing. Here..." she picked a small datachip and tossed it to James' side. The chip bounced against the boots by the force with which she threw it. "In it you will have the coordinates of her last recorded whereabouts. Of course, I would not be confident of her staying static, given the war."