Smack the Rat

[Ben Drake]

Ben was breathing lightly. Even though the Boonta warehouse looked like it had been abandoned for some time, the fumes were still pungent.

What had been a chemicals store once was now the staging area for a drugs bust. Sentries were discretely placed on the gantries, looking out for approaching eyes.

Having been on the wrong side of the civil war, his once renowned unit was now used for local garrison and planetary patrols.

Therefore, here he was waiting for orders to move out. Intelligence had been passed down that in another building on a nearby industrial estate, there was a shipment of spice ready for distribution.

He had been told to wait for a Sith handler. Since his regiment had found themselves out of favour, they were allowed to do very little without Sith oversight. For them, however, it often meant young things not long out of the academy.

He had had a number of such allocations and Sith being Sith, that ranged from the schemingly heartless to the zealously cruel. He wondered what tonight's job would bring.

The Lance-Sergeant looked over his men one more time, knowing that they probably had just as much to fear from the next person who would walk in the door to take command as they did from the yokels dealing spice.

@Bacon

 

[Palas Devrix]

Palas Devrix had arrived at Boonta only a few hours before, he had traveled through the planets harsh desert to arrive at the chemical warehouse. When he got the details for the mission a week before, it had slipped his mind how unforgiving Boonta was. Between the huts and the desert it wasn’t a likable place even for a Sith. It appeared that there were some unregulated spice trades happening under his empires nose that needed to be snuffed immediately. Palas usually wasn’t the one to meddle in such affairs but he would perform as his empire liked, he just didn’t feel a moral obligation to stop the drug dealers.

”I found it, X.”

Palas was speaking to his droid through a small comms unit, a black and white astromech droid who was now flying his starfighter across the planets atmosphere to the Sith acolyte. He had to abandon his ship several miles away, it was near impossible to find the exact location due to the amount of sand that lingered in the atmosphere so he ventured out on foot to find it.

It only took about eight minutes for his ship to fly overhead, the droid landed on the landing pad of the warehouses roof. ”Wait for me there.” Palas spoke into the comm again before returning it to his belt. He was wearing his Sith armor and armed with a pair of cross guard lightsabers, these people would be expected him so he hoped to be briefed quickly and off Boonta as quick as possible.

The eighteen year old Sith Acolyte, walked through the front door to the warehouse. The inside could very well of been worse than the desert, the smell of chemicals lingered in the air and the soldiers inside didn’t seem to be very happy to see him.

”I need to speak with the ranking officer or whatever you call each other.” Palas spoke while pulling his hooded robe back, revealing one of his lightsabers. Not for intimidation purposes but so they knew he was who he said he was.

@Ulysses

 

[Ben Drake]

The sentries had reported a figure approaching. He didn't have the look of a local gangster. In fact, his robes were distinctive of only one thing: their overseer had arrived.

The sentries passed the message over the com and so Ben made himself ready to receive the guest. He slung his rifle behind his back and stood at a respectful distance from the door. This had the added benefit of giving space for marksmen on the back gantries to keep an eye on things, just in case there had been a mistake.

The figure entered and revealed himself. When he asked his question - or rather declared it - Ben responded.

"My Lord, I am Lance Sergeant Drake and I command this squad. We are at your service for this mission."

This was definitely not how Ben usually spoke. However, he had cultivated the style for speaking to his various Sith watchers. He had come to realise that largely they either didn't care how the army grunts spoke to them or they really did. In which case, it was always better to play it safe. There was nothing as predictably unpredictable as Sith anger.

"We are ready to move in on the target on your command."

 

[Palas Devrix]

Palas continued to take in his surroundings, everyone in the warehouse was armed to the teeth. The sentries were beeping, obviously relaying information to Lance Sargent Drake which seemed to be the only noise other than the short conversation between Drake and Palas and the moans of the old warehouse’s structural integrity. ”They can’t pick a more lively place to plan a mass killing?” The acolyte seemed like he was joking but in all reality the state of the warehouse was awful and he was dying to go back out into the Boonta heat.

”My droid is on the roof.” Palas said aloud, disregarding Sargent Drake’s inquiry about orders for a moment, he headed towards a metal ladder that lead to a roof hatch that he promptly pushed open. His silence wasn’t intentional, the acolyte was simply deep in thought on strategically what the best option to deal with the spice dealers.

On the roof was nothing but a simple landing pad that his ship was currently occupying. His droid gave a faint ”beep” before ejecting itself from the starfighter. Its thrusters helping it safely land next to its master. ”Do you know when the next sandstorm will be?” Palas inquired while walking past his droid to look out on the Boonta horizon. The droid took a second to respond, which came in the form of several more beeps.

The acolyte didn’t need to know the answer, off in the distance Palas could see the swirls of sand which often were the first warning signs of a sandstorm. Now it was time to relay the message to the team bellow. ”Drake, you and your men meet me topside for briefing.”

@Ulysses