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Life sucked. Sure it always did, but it sucked even more with the ever growing threat of the Killik. This new threat had almost succeeded in making him forget political debates regarding the Sector Rangers. The half-Morellian found no joy in serving the organization any longer, and while he had...

Poet wasn't really good at finding stuff. Well, he was selling himself short there but the truth was he simply had no patience for search and retrieve ops. The half-Morellian preferred blasting his way through a raid and the like, anything that would get adrenaline pumping through his veins but...

Luck just wasn't in his favor today. The gleam in the Zabrak's eyes was bright with fear, his face awash in desperation as he struggled beneath Poet's weight. Pleas fell one after another from the dealer's mouth in rapid, hopeless rambling – please don't arrest me, I have a kid waiting for me...

If there was one thing Poet missed about field work, it was the rush brought about by hunting down the lawless and helping the innocent who were in need. Of course he would deny the latter as much as he would easily admit the former – he had a reputation of being the curmudgeonly rookie (not a...