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File photo of former Black Sun raid leader Aphos Veln
WARNING
See appended note as per Republic Prosecution of War Criminals Act 52-717
Republic High Command
... initializing
... beginning playback
FILE: Republic Navy Recruiter Office COREL-52G
TIME: 0800h, 13,000 BBY
TYPE: holo-recording
OVERSEER: Cmd. Ariss Tern, 52NAV
MAST: "Come in, recruit. No, close the door. Alright, thank you. I'm Lieutenant Mast, this is Commander Tern of the 52nd Navy. He'll be supervising us today. Is that understood?
RECRUIT: "Yes, sir. Completely, sir."
#[email protected]: logged notes: kids quaking in his civvies; looks like barely out of 2-tier education. human, young; maybe 16 core years? no visible scarring, regulation over-length black hair, brown eyes. negative on piercings or external marks. feeling of honesty and clear-cut nature
MAST: "Alright, let's get the basics out of the way... I see by your file that your place of birth is on Galactic City, Coruscant, Military Sector 7Z. I don't see anything about your father being an enlisted man."
bit of hesitance. has yet to learn that not all questions sound like such
RECRUIT: "Uh, he wasn't, sir. He did maintenance and janitorial around the sector with mom. He got taken down by a swoop gang four years ago while he was -"
MAST: "My condolences. Why do you want to be a soldier with the Republic Navy?"
poor kid did not expect interruption. note seemingly positive relationship with father
addendum: after three second recovery, straight, fast answer this time. question has been rehearsed many times
RECRUIT: "Uh, well, to be honest sir... I want the best for the Republic. I don't want any others like me, from good families or not, in the Middle Rim or Core, to have to suffer any injustice. This Republic is the greatest thing in the Galaxy; to uphold Her name with lawful supervision is my lifelong dream."
MAST: "You do realize that being in the Navy would put you far away from the Core, son? How do you expect to help anyone when you're stationed three jumps away?"
RECRUIT: "By doing my duty as a Republic soldier, I can help prevent the chain of corruption and crime from taking any more lives. The most recent Republic Intelligence study released on the HoloNet found that more than 80% of all swoop gangs in the Core function almost solely off of illegal profits and black-market drug running. If I take down a spice colony or pirate convoy in the Arkanis sector, that's that much less credit in some scum's pocket."
MAST: "Fair enough. Commander Tern, is there anything you would like to throw in?"
TERN: "Thank you, Lieutenant. Recruit, if I may ask; is your desire to stop these misdoings because of your father's murder? And why not enlist in a planetary police force for more direct action?"
RECRUIT: "Yes, sir, it is because of my father's death. And, with all due respect to the planetary police, not a month goes by without corruption headlines on the Net or some suspects 'disappearing' in a case. I don't condone people who are above the law."
TERN: "Alright, thank you recruit. Back to you, Lieutenant."
outstanding answer. recruit is definitely straight shooter
MAST: "Thank you. What is your education level, son?"
RECRUIT: "Second, uh, second-tier, sir. Just finished my advanced theoretical and logistics at Corellia MilTech. Uh, also rated for Class 3 blaster rifles and completed Republic Civilian rifle marksmanship with a ranking of 96 out of 100.
mast is checking the file... file confirms. masts face priceless
MAST: "You finished in the first percentile of marksmen while completing third-tier - son, how old are you, exactly? Your file says fifteen Core years."
RECRUIT: "Fifteen Core years, sir."
pulled up report from miltechs data banks. recruit finished top of class even though five years younger than median student age
MAST: "Well, recruit, that is certainly exceptional. However, as I am sure you're aware, the Republic cannot, barring Senate approval, enlist a recruit who is under eighteen years of age. Unfortunately, you will have to wait another three years. But I'm sure we will accept you at that time. Thank you for your time, recruit."
recruit looks defeated. personal opinion is not to pass this one up. launching query into senate network
RECRUIT: "Sir, respectfully... this is my last resort. My mother passed away last month due to a nerve injury. Not even the grease joints on Coruscant will accept me as a cook. And I will never, while I draw breath, join a gang. My options are exhausted, sir. I'll take basic training, I'll run the whole ring, but I -"
query returned, all green with approval of Senator Winsla's office
TERN: "If you don't mind, recruit. As the overseeing Commander in this situation, I do have overriding authority in a normal case. In this instant, I normally would not have a say; however, I forwarded your information to the Senate and explained your plight. They have agreed to accept you into the Navy. Remember, though - there is no returning now. You will be shipping out by the end of this week."
RECRUIT: "Sir, I can't - I can't begin to thank you enough. Yes, I'm ready."
TERN: "Alright. Take this form. No, the blue holopad. Yes. Take that to the office down the corner and they will set you up with your gear, alright?"
recruit saluted at this point; oddly inspiring, for some reason
RECRUIT: "Thank you again, sir. I can't begin -"
TERN: "I know, you can't thank us enough. Be careful out there, soldier; it's a big galaxy. Dismissed."
MAST: "May the Force guide you, soldier. Next!"
close case file
FILE: Republic Navy CARID-36TRAINING
TIME: 0600h 12,995 BBY
TYPE: text
OVERSEER: Staff Sgt. Trick Bamland, 36NAV
#[email protected]: case notes: Petty Officer Veln is being issued twenty hours of janitorial duty over the next week as per order of myself and Sergeant Rurgundy.
Recent drills had the Petty Officer and his squad simulating a storm-and-capture of a tractored pirate frigate. However, upon receiving orders from command to simulate an execution of the 'pirates', the Petty Officer refused to command his squad to fire. He has lodged a complaint that this is not within the codes of honour, but Sergeant Burgundy and I feel it necessary to let him know that this sort of discretion can get Republic men killed. He has acknowledged that he will follow any further orders from a superior officer and did not object to the punishment.
Otherwise, I am highly pleased with Petty Officer Veln's performance, and would place a commendation if not for this recent infraction. He has continued to place top of his class in all logistical and tactical examinations, while continuing to rank in our top five best marksmen with all standard-issue firearms. He is also spoken of very highly amongst the other officer cadets. If anything, I expect great things from Petty Officer Veln.
Vocode-auth Staff Sergeant Trick Bamland.
close case file
FILE: Republic Army DEVAR-79OPS
TIME: 1900h 12,988 BBY
TYPE: text
OVERSEER: Major Issus Nelth
#[email protected]: case notes: Ensign Veln just recently returned from a four-day firefight with Devaronian rebels. Not only did he manage to complete all mission objectives, but the three platoons under his command suffered not a single casualty. I have to say that I was wrong to doubt the Ensign; when Command first suggested resolving my shortage of squad leaders by issuing me a Navy officer, I was skeptical, but Ensign Veln has far exceeded my expectations.
I would like to add on to my superior's notes on this file and also recommend the Ensign's promotion to Sub-Lieutenant after his rotation is over; aside from his mastery of marksmanship, Ensign Veln shows an uncanny grasp of battlefield tactics and logistics, but still retains excellent camaraderie with every soldier under his command. I have personally talked with the Ensign on multiple occasions and can vouch for both his exceptional record of service and professional demeanor.
Vocode-auth Major Issus Nelth.
close case file
FILE: 323nd Republic Navy mission progress video-capture
TIME: 0600H, 12986BBY
TYPE: image
OVERSEER: Sub-Lieutenant Aphos Veln, 342nd Marines
FILE INFORMATION: mission title ...error: redacted , surface of ...error: redacted
FILE: Republic Navy Cruiser Infallible, orbiting Issor
TIME: 1200h, 12,984BBY
TYPE: holo-recording
OVERSEER: Commander Naveed Sik'tar 12NAV
... error: audio mute
SIK'TAR: "- this thing on? Ah, there we go. Thank you, Lieutenant Veln. My apologies, but they keep changing the interface on these things. Couldn't find the unmute button to save my life!"
VELN: "It's really no problem, sir. We had to fix them a lot back in boot, I sympathize with you!"
SIK'TAR: "Ha ha, outstanding. Walk with me to the bridge, will you? I'll take this thing along.
shuffling sounds, video playback continues
Alright, so. I think it's safe to assume you don't know why I've called you in here?"
VELN: "No, sir. If I may speak frankly?"
SIK'TAR: "Of course! You've been on my ship for four years, you can speak your mind."
VELN: "Much appreciated, sir. It's as you said; I've been here for four years but I've never been asked into the Commander's personal presence, much less the Command Deck. May I ask as to what the occasion is?"
SIK'TAR: "Well, son - pardon me, I can't drop that dumb habit. Military grinds it into you, 'make them feel like your children!' Bunch of crock if you ask me. You're not my son, understood? Ha ha, alright. As I was saying, there's a very special reason you've been drawn into the - what is it the soldiers call this place, "the Yawning Womprat?" - ha ha, I've asked for you on the Command Deck because I have a very special assignment for you."
VELN: "... yes, sir?"
SIK'TAR: "Oh, pardon me. I never quite got used to it, you know? Thirty years commanding my own starship and it gets me every time. Look out there, Lieutenant - every one of those specks of light, every inch of blackness - that's what we're defending. We bring peace, justice to this galaxy. We keep the innocents alive and the thugs in the brig. The galaxy would be in chaos, in tyranny, if the Republic did not exist. I don't know about yourself, but I won't ever be ready for the task of keeping trillions safe. And, hell, I'm a Commander! Ha ha, who would have though. Anyhow, my apologies, you know how I get off-topic. You've heard of Republic Intelligence, right?"
VELN: "Yes, sir. I know that they have clandestine and civilian branches - I have always been an avid reader of all reports the civilian branch releases."
SIK'TAR: "As should all of my men. Lieutenant, if I could fill my ship with copies of you, I wouldn't hesitate for a second. Ha ha, can you imagine that? An army made of clones! Wouldn't that be the sight. I bet the Jedi would have a fit. But you're a modest man, I won't make you blush, ha ha."
VELN: "Thank you, sir. That means very much to me."
SIK'TAR: "Any time, Lieutenant. I'll get to the point, I promise. I received a message from Republic Intelligence a short time ago - not the civilian branch."
VELN: "Sir?"
SIK'TAR: "It's not a bad thing. The clandestine section just doesn't raise its head that often; in fact, I've only been contacted by them once or twice. Don't worry, it's not about your record; you've only got one infraction on your record, and that's the one from Carida. Not even worth being on the record, if you ask me. But, first, I need to know that you won't repeat a word of this."
VELN: "Of course, sir. It won't leave this bridge."
SIK'TAR: "Good, because this is fleet-level clearance - the Admiralty passed it on for ears-only. Republic Intelligence is planning a covert operation - one of the biggest in years. They've spent the last five years tracking a pirate group that call themselves the Black Sun. Apparently, this isn't any regular group of thugs - they're rumoured to be headed by ex-military. They recruit thugs but they act like soldiers. They've killed sixty-thousand innocents in the last year alone over seven systems, and a lot of activity is starting to show flags of Black Sun activity in the Core.
Intelligence is worried - they think that two things are happening. Either a group of wealthy separatist backers are trying to insert chaos into the system by funding the disgruntled, or there's a pirate threat rising that has to be shut down before the public hears too much about it. Both cases require extreme action, and fast. Admiral Tern over at Navy Command passed this along - specifically asked for you, though he wouldn't say why. What's your opinion so far, Lieutenant?"
VELN: "Well, sir... I'll gladly participate, but I'm not quite sure what Intelligence is demanding."
SIK'TAR: "They wouldn't say specifically, aside from that you'll have to meet their agents in person back on Coruscant. You'll be taking an unofficial leave - officially, you're still stationed on my ship - as well as traveling under an assumed name. I've got my shuttle ready and waiting to take you back to the Core. If I were you, I'd consider this carefully, Lieutenant; Intelligence has never made this sort of request, not during my service. I'd bet my left lekku that this is something the Republic really needs.
VELN: "I'll get my belongings as soon as possible, sir. Also, sir?"
SIK'TAR: "Yes, Lieutenant Veln?"
VELN: "If I don't come back to the ship, for whatever reason - it's been a pleasure serving with you. I only regret I can't tell the men the same thing."
SIK'TAR: "The pleasure was mine. You'll always be an exceptional soldier of the Republic, Lieutenant; one of the best I've ever had the privilege of commanding. May the Force bring you the best. Oh, and your men know, don't worry. Oh, one more thing?"
VELN: "Yes, sir?"
SIK'TAR: "If anybody from this point refers to you as Lieutenant-Commander, don't think they made a mistake. Safe travels, soldier."
close case file
FILE: The Prestigious Krayt Cantina, Coruscant Commerical Sector 5T
TIME: 2300h, 12,984BBY
TYPE: holo-recording
OVERSEER: INTEL SHADOW X6
Lieutenant-Commander Aphos Veln sat at the bar, twirling his drink's miniature binary sun straw with one hand, gazing absent-mindedly at the cantina's Bith performers. They had switched to a slower song when the lights had dimmed, serenading the multitude of couples that swung side-to-side, embracing, as they gracefully floated across the dance floor. The bar was the expensive sort; only the noble class - or those with money to spend - could afford to frequent such an establishment. Thankfully, Veln's alias, J'son Venge, was a successful merchant captain. To even the most paranoid, the young man at the bar was simply enjoying some leave before the next barge set off.
Veln scratched above his ear, partly because of his shaggy haircut - to fit his cover, he had grown out two inches of his natural jet-black hair (now dyed to a blonde) and a quarter-inch of beard stubble - but mostly due to the uncomfortable earpiece that sat lodged in his ear canal, softly buzzing with activity as the Republic Intelligence agents and handlers discussed their upcoming mission. He went back to twirling the straw, unable to get rid of the annoying itch, and glanced at his real object of focus.
Senator Marcus Taurig of Corellia, a human, sat in a private enclosed booth in the VIP section, barely visible through the four Zabrak bodyguards that flanked the frosted-glass door. He was currently engaged in entertaining his companions - an escort and two well-dressed businessmen - while he waited for the missing party of three that was to join him.
To anybody else that noticed him, the Senator would look like any other noble; wealthy, well-dressed, and with a definite aire of charismatic smugness that brought to mind a bipedal Hutt. However, the last five years of research had led to a partial paper trail between the Senator and recent Black Sun activity. By 'partial', Republic Intelligence meant that there were at least six million credits that had gone from the Senator's coffers to black-market hands.
The Senator was only part of the equation, though. His three guests were known crime lords, untouched by the police and too well-entrenched for easy elimination by the Republic. If times were easy, the attempt might have been made, but with the recent skirmishes and rising tensions in the Outer Rim, the Republic had left the Core to the police. Veln sighed. Bureaucracy.
Veln turned his gaze back to the performers, not wanting to alert the Senator's bodyguards; they seemed like seasoned professionals. One had a Zabrak military tattoo snaking around his muscular forearm, suggesting ex-military; he'd be the priority target, in any case. He swept his eyes over the bar; it was packed, at least three hundred patrons in sight. Not counting the numerous booths among the wall, there were three hundred and fifty civilians to be accounted for. Veln whistled, the sound lost in the din of the bar.
Well, three hundred and forty; ten of the figures in the crowd were elite Republic Intelligence operatives, each blending into the masses at the moment, waiting on Mission Control's call to move. With the exception of the bodyguards, Veln and the operatives were the only armed persons in the bar, everybody else having been stripped of their weaponry at the door. Whether or not this was good or bad was up in the air; people with blasters would at least take cover if a firefight broke out. Those without would only panic and make a take-down infinitely more difficult.
"LC Veln, was that whistle a signal for anything?" The earpiece drowned out the cantina's noise as one of the operatives, a female Twi'lek, addressed Veln. He smirked; though they didn't follow Republic code, the spooks were possibly the most uptight people he had ever met. He looked straight ahead and spoke, moving his lips to the words of the current song being played; talking to himself would probably bring unwanted attention. He hoped the small microphone embedded inside his cheek wouldn't fry him to death.
"No, I do that sometimes. Any updates from MC on the situation?"
"Affirmative. We have eyes on the Kingpins - their ETA is two minutes." The Kingpins were the three crime lords meeting the Senator.
"Roger, acknowledged. Everybody operational?" Even though he wasn't technically the mission's commander - none of them were - Veln tried to keep tabs as much as possible. Intelligence had no real chain of command, which was strange for the Lieutenant-Commander. He casually patted his hips, ensuring that his stowed carbine was still attached.
Arguably the coolest part of the mission was the weapon loadout; though it only consisted of one weapon, it still made Veln grin. For the mission, the spooks had commissioned Czerka Engineering to make a separable carbine; a fully-automatic, fully-functional weapon of war, carried in two halves. Upon unholstering, both halves would extend mating latches; three seconds later, the weapon would be fully operational and ready to deal damage. They said it was for concealment purposes, but Veln thought otherwise. Spooks love taking the impossible and doing it, he thought.
His train of thought was cut short as his earpiece pinged, the sign for mission commencement. He kept his composure and turned to face the entrance, promptly turning it back. He paused, then spoke.
"Alright, so, maybe I didn't read the brief fully, but I only recall there being mention of minor security detail. I don't think that ten bodyguards counts as a 'small security detail'."
"Affirmative, Mission Control was not informed. The mission is still on, we'll have to hit them fast when the targets are in position."
Veln rolled his eyes, proceeding to take a sip of his drink. They had fourteen bodies to move through before they could get to their targets. Being outnumbered wasn't the problem, it was that this would only extend conflict time. Every second that passed represented another chance for innocents to get harmed; Intelligence didn't quite worry about collateral, but Veln wouldn't stand for it.
"This is Mission Control. All agents, report ready."
"Ready," said Veln, pushing his drink back towards the bartender and standing out of his seat to step back into the crowd of people. He slowly worked his way towards the VIP section as the rest of the operatives confirmed ready status. In the mass of socialites, nobody noticed the ten plain-clothes operatives snaking towards the roped-off VIP section.
It was twenty feet to the rope, which was guarded by two bouncers; though they were physically imposing, they had no weaponry and were only trained to fight drunken sailors. They wouldn't hesitate to run if a crossfire broke out. After the rope, it was another fifteen feet to the enclosed booths; it was this distance that was the problem, as it was now filled with fourteen bodyguards, all scanning the crowd for any suspicious sound.
Veln went over the plan in his head again as he walked towards his marked point, a pillar that bordered the roped-off section. An Intelligence slicer would trigger the building's fire alarm, setting off the extinguishing systems in the cantina. This would also activate the pre-rigged lighting in the ceiling above the bodyguards, blinding them for a second as the operatives moved in. After that, it was combat; all hostile opposition would have to be dispatched, with the Kingpins and Jackal (the Senator) taken into custody.
The only reason Veln had agreed to participate was because of the potential impact of the sting; such a loss of funding and leadership would cripple the affiliated pirates, allowing Intelligence to gain ground and establish itself ahead of their presence. However, the possibility of collateral and uncertainty of the situation was really bugging him. Another hitch; the plan had to be executed in under five minutes, as any longer and the local police would arrive on the scene. Since Intelligence had no official clearance, that wasn't an option.
He got to the pillar, leaning against it and reading an adjacent HoloNet terminal. He could see two more figures walking against the crowd, moving towards him; two of the operatives. One of them nodded, the other making no indication she noticed him. He turned back to the terminal as they walked past him and took their respective positions.
Another chime from the earpiece. The second ready signal. He steadied himself, placing his hands by his sides to slip out the carbine. The third chime. He pulled the carbine and snapped it together, the latches actuating as it initialized its power cell and glowed red with activation. The club's fire alarm went off with the fourth chime, spraying extinguisher fluids out of ceiling-mounted nozzles; the patronage screamed and started stampeding toward the door as the first shot rang out.
Veln hit the military Zabrak with a three-round burst to the chest just as the spotlights flashed into action, blinding the bodyguards. The Zabrak flew to the ground as his comrades ran for cover, shielding their eyes and withdrawing their weapons. Feeling the crowd behind him fleeing, Veln crouched and took another shot, bowling over another Zabrak as he ran to cover. The targets in the booth had backed into a corner, nowhere to run and unarmed.
The other operatives had opened fire at the same time; the first five seconds resulted in half of the enemy force being destroyed as blaster fire tore into them. Taking care not to fire into the booth, Veln crouch-walked as he shot, hitting a human bodyguard in the right arm as he tried to fire at one of the operatives.
The remaining six bodyguards had taken cover behind various objects and were now returning fire. The Veln quickly ran to the next pillar, grimacing as one of the operatives sprinting towards cover was knocked over by a glowing burst of plasma from the hostile force. He turned and fired at the shooter, catching him just as he ducked back into cover. Five left.
The crossfire had been going on for thirty seconds; they had four minutes to apprehend their targets and evacuate to the waiting dropship. Veln narrowly avoided another flurry of plasma and shot blindly in its direction, rewarded with a satisfying scream of pain. He checked the Intelligence forces; one operative lay on the ground behind a counter, a blaster scorch scarring his right leg; an ally applied medical aid as blaster fire ripped over them.
This was taking too long. He shot an overhead light, showering the bodyguards with sparks, then dove into the open and let off three bursts of fire. Three targets went down. Not stopping, Veln aimed at the last bodyguard as the human threw his weapon to the side and put his arms behind his head. The Lieutenant-Commander started lowering his weapon as a burst of fire flew over his head, taking down the unarmed bodyguard.
Veln whipped around and started yelling as the shooter ran towards him, all targets eliminated.
"He was surrendering? You'll kill a man in cold blood even after he forfeits his life to you?"
The agent stopped and looked at him, remorseless. "He forfeited his life when he decided to protect a crime lord. And he injured my comrade. That's enough for me." The operative kept going, joining the others as they hauled the seven occupants of the booth out. Veln holstered his carbine as they jogged in formation to the cantina's entrance. He scanned the bar and held the doors as the operatives herded the targets into the waiting dropship, ignoring the Senator's furious cries of retribution. No innocent casualties. Patrons were peeking their heads from cover, but there were no injuries. He breathed a sigh of relief, catching himself as the last operative ran out, carrying the body of his downed comrade. Veln closed the doors and jumped into the dropship, watching as the cantina receded into the cityscape's distance.
close case file
FILE: UNMARKED
TIME: 0600h, 12,979BBY
TYPE: UNMARKED
OVERSEER: S.O.L.A.G. Creation Council
This meeting will come to order.
The Special Operations and Light Assault group has been convened.
S.O.L.A.G. is to henceforth be an independent division of the Republic armed forces. S.O.L.A.G. is exempt to all normal military process, accountability and chain of command.
Operational command will overrule traditional Navy, Army and Intelligence powers. Requisition requests are to be fulfilled with utmost speed. S.O.L.A.G. reports directly to the Republic after this meeting.
Commando forces will be formed exclusively by invitation of S.O.L.A.G. leadership.
Ranking system will be unique; Alpha for command, Beta for specialist, Charlie for combat specialist and Delta for support. A numerical system of one to ten will indicate a commando's seniority and ability.
This ranking system has been called into effect by the first S.O.L.A.G. Commander Alpha-10, Aphos Veln.
Former Lieutenant-Commander Veln is henceforth the Commander Alpha as per judgment of the Republic Admiralty board, decree issued by Grand Admiral Softwith.
The Special Operations and Light Assault Group are to mobilize to any high-risk, low-profile engagements.
This meeting will come to a close. S.O.L.A.G. now has full operational function.
May the Force be with you, Commander Veln.
FILE: Special Operations and Light Assault Group Cruiser Apostasy, orbiting unmarked location
TIME: 0800h, 12,978BBY
TYPE: holo-recording
OVERSEER: Commander Alpha-10 Aphos Veln
VELN: "Let's get this thing rolling. Report, Lieutenant."
TRAS: "Yes, sir. The Apostasy has finished all combat-readiness and -supply preparation. We're ready to jump to hyperspace on your command."
VELN: "Excellent. Everything I requisitioned has been delivered?"
TRAS: "Yes, sir. Oh, and a bottle of Corellian Brandy from Admiral Sik'tar. He sent his best wishes. It's in your quarters."
VELN: "Alright, then. The Bulwark is prepped for briefing?"
TRAS: "Yes, sir. All of the candidates you selected have been notified and are ready to be picked up."
VELN: "Perfect. Ladies and gentlemen, we're about to make history, though nobody will know until we're done. When this ship has left dry-dock, we will be the elite; single most-experienced, most-powerful military unit in this galaxy. We will go where the Republic can't step foot, and we will right the wrongs of this galaxy. But I'll save my inspirational speech for the briefing. Hyperspace on my mark... mark."
close case file
... end playback
"So?"
"Well, it's remarkable."
"I know you have an actual opinion. Spit it out. You wouldn't have put him through that mess with the crime lords on Coruscant in the first place if you didn't want him to rocket through the ranks."
"What do I think? I think it's insane. He may have a perfect record - barring that one mishap on Carida - but giving anybody discretion beyond the Republic's seems like a recipe for disaster. And he's, what, thirty-eight? I've known servicemen who have retired at sixty and never hit Sergeant."
"Yes, but how many servicemen do you know who can orchestrate an entire battlefield while using a pistol to hit a target fifty meters away? And not be complete savants who are socially useless? He'll go far, I think. Why did you put him on that mission?"
"I wanted to see him under pressure. I read his case. He hates innocents dying and he hates pirates; his performance was enough for me to take the risk. Not like I don't have misgivings - I just wanted to be sure I wasn't going to destroy the Republic for nothing.
"You respect him, I can tell. For now, try to keep your Intel spooks off of his case, alright? Give him some breathing room."
"I will, I will. I can only hope this is for the best."
... beginning playback
FILE: Republic Navy Recruiter Office COREL-52G
TIME: 0800h, 13,000 BBY
TYPE: holo-recording
OVERSEER: Cmd. Ariss Tern, 52NAV
MAST: "Come in, recruit. No, close the door. Alright, thank you. I'm Lieutenant Mast, this is Commander Tern of the 52nd Navy. He'll be supervising us today. Is that understood?
RECRUIT: "Yes, sir. Completely, sir."
#[email protected]: logged notes: kids quaking in his civvies; looks like barely out of 2-tier education. human, young; maybe 16 core years? no visible scarring, regulation over-length black hair, brown eyes. negative on piercings or external marks. feeling of honesty and clear-cut nature
MAST: "Alright, let's get the basics out of the way... I see by your file that your place of birth is on Galactic City, Coruscant, Military Sector 7Z. I don't see anything about your father being an enlisted man."
bit of hesitance. has yet to learn that not all questions sound like such
RECRUIT: "Uh, he wasn't, sir. He did maintenance and janitorial around the sector with mom. He got taken down by a swoop gang four years ago while he was -"
MAST: "My condolences. Why do you want to be a soldier with the Republic Navy?"
poor kid did not expect interruption. note seemingly positive relationship with father
addendum: after three second recovery, straight, fast answer this time. question has been rehearsed many times
RECRUIT: "Uh, well, to be honest sir... I want the best for the Republic. I don't want any others like me, from good families or not, in the Middle Rim or Core, to have to suffer any injustice. This Republic is the greatest thing in the Galaxy; to uphold Her name with lawful supervision is my lifelong dream."
MAST: "You do realize that being in the Navy would put you far away from the Core, son? How do you expect to help anyone when you're stationed three jumps away?"
RECRUIT: "By doing my duty as a Republic soldier, I can help prevent the chain of corruption and crime from taking any more lives. The most recent Republic Intelligence study released on the HoloNet found that more than 80% of all swoop gangs in the Core function almost solely off of illegal profits and black-market drug running. If I take down a spice colony or pirate convoy in the Arkanis sector, that's that much less credit in some scum's pocket."
MAST: "Fair enough. Commander Tern, is there anything you would like to throw in?"
TERN: "Thank you, Lieutenant. Recruit, if I may ask; is your desire to stop these misdoings because of your father's murder? And why not enlist in a planetary police force for more direct action?"
RECRUIT: "Yes, sir, it is because of my father's death. And, with all due respect to the planetary police, not a month goes by without corruption headlines on the Net or some suspects 'disappearing' in a case. I don't condone people who are above the law."
TERN: "Alright, thank you recruit. Back to you, Lieutenant."
outstanding answer. recruit is definitely straight shooter
MAST: "Thank you. What is your education level, son?"
RECRUIT: "Second, uh, second-tier, sir. Just finished my advanced theoretical and logistics at Corellia MilTech. Uh, also rated for Class 3 blaster rifles and completed Republic Civilian rifle marksmanship with a ranking of 96 out of 100.
mast is checking the file... file confirms. masts face priceless
MAST: "You finished in the first percentile of marksmen while completing third-tier - son, how old are you, exactly? Your file says fifteen Core years."
RECRUIT: "Fifteen Core years, sir."
pulled up report from miltechs data banks. recruit finished top of class even though five years younger than median student age
MAST: "Well, recruit, that is certainly exceptional. However, as I am sure you're aware, the Republic cannot, barring Senate approval, enlist a recruit who is under eighteen years of age. Unfortunately, you will have to wait another three years. But I'm sure we will accept you at that time. Thank you for your time, recruit."
recruit looks defeated. personal opinion is not to pass this one up. launching query into senate network
RECRUIT: "Sir, respectfully... this is my last resort. My mother passed away last month due to a nerve injury. Not even the grease joints on Coruscant will accept me as a cook. And I will never, while I draw breath, join a gang. My options are exhausted, sir. I'll take basic training, I'll run the whole ring, but I -"
query returned, all green with approval of Senator Winsla's office
TERN: "If you don't mind, recruit. As the overseeing Commander in this situation, I do have overriding authority in a normal case. In this instant, I normally would not have a say; however, I forwarded your information to the Senate and explained your plight. They have agreed to accept you into the Navy. Remember, though - there is no returning now. You will be shipping out by the end of this week."
RECRUIT: "Sir, I can't - I can't begin to thank you enough. Yes, I'm ready."
TERN: "Alright. Take this form. No, the blue holopad. Yes. Take that to the office down the corner and they will set you up with your gear, alright?"
recruit saluted at this point; oddly inspiring, for some reason
RECRUIT: "Thank you again, sir. I can't begin -"
TERN: "I know, you can't thank us enough. Be careful out there, soldier; it's a big galaxy. Dismissed."
MAST: "May the Force guide you, soldier. Next!"
close case file
FILE: Republic Navy CARID-36TRAINING
TIME: 0600h 12,995 BBY
TYPE: text
OVERSEER: Staff Sgt. Trick Bamland, 36NAV
#[email protected]: case notes: Petty Officer Veln is being issued twenty hours of janitorial duty over the next week as per order of myself and Sergeant Rurgundy.
Recent drills had the Petty Officer and his squad simulating a storm-and-capture of a tractored pirate frigate. However, upon receiving orders from command to simulate an execution of the 'pirates', the Petty Officer refused to command his squad to fire. He has lodged a complaint that this is not within the codes of honour, but Sergeant Burgundy and I feel it necessary to let him know that this sort of discretion can get Republic men killed. He has acknowledged that he will follow any further orders from a superior officer and did not object to the punishment.
Otherwise, I am highly pleased with Petty Officer Veln's performance, and would place a commendation if not for this recent infraction. He has continued to place top of his class in all logistical and tactical examinations, while continuing to rank in our top five best marksmen with all standard-issue firearms. He is also spoken of very highly amongst the other officer cadets. If anything, I expect great things from Petty Officer Veln.
Vocode-auth Staff Sergeant Trick Bamland.
close case file
FILE: Republic Army DEVAR-79OPS
TIME: 1900h 12,988 BBY
TYPE: text
OVERSEER: Major Issus Nelth
#[email protected]: case notes: Ensign Veln just recently returned from a four-day firefight with Devaronian rebels. Not only did he manage to complete all mission objectives, but the three platoons under his command suffered not a single casualty. I have to say that I was wrong to doubt the Ensign; when Command first suggested resolving my shortage of squad leaders by issuing me a Navy officer, I was skeptical, but Ensign Veln has far exceeded my expectations.
I would like to add on to my superior's notes on this file and also recommend the Ensign's promotion to Sub-Lieutenant after his rotation is over; aside from his mastery of marksmanship, Ensign Veln shows an uncanny grasp of battlefield tactics and logistics, but still retains excellent camaraderie with every soldier under his command. I have personally talked with the Ensign on multiple occasions and can vouch for both his exceptional record of service and professional demeanor.
Vocode-auth Major Issus Nelth.
close case file
FILE: 323nd Republic Navy mission progress video-capture
TIME: 0600H, 12986BBY
TYPE: image
OVERSEER: Sub-Lieutenant Aphos Veln, 342nd Marines
FILE INFORMATION: mission title ...error: redacted , surface of ...error: redacted
FILE: Republic Navy Cruiser Infallible, orbiting Issor
TIME: 1200h, 12,984BBY
TYPE: holo-recording
OVERSEER: Commander Naveed Sik'tar 12NAV
... error: audio mute
SIK'TAR: "- this thing on? Ah, there we go. Thank you, Lieutenant Veln. My apologies, but they keep changing the interface on these things. Couldn't find the unmute button to save my life!"
VELN: "It's really no problem, sir. We had to fix them a lot back in boot, I sympathize with you!"
SIK'TAR: "Ha ha, outstanding. Walk with me to the bridge, will you? I'll take this thing along.
shuffling sounds, video playback continues
Alright, so. I think it's safe to assume you don't know why I've called you in here?"
VELN: "No, sir. If I may speak frankly?"
SIK'TAR: "Of course! You've been on my ship for four years, you can speak your mind."
VELN: "Much appreciated, sir. It's as you said; I've been here for four years but I've never been asked into the Commander's personal presence, much less the Command Deck. May I ask as to what the occasion is?"
SIK'TAR: "Well, son - pardon me, I can't drop that dumb habit. Military grinds it into you, 'make them feel like your children!' Bunch of crock if you ask me. You're not my son, understood? Ha ha, alright. As I was saying, there's a very special reason you've been drawn into the - what is it the soldiers call this place, "the Yawning Womprat?" - ha ha, I've asked for you on the Command Deck because I have a very special assignment for you."
VELN: "... yes, sir?"
SIK'TAR: "Oh, pardon me. I never quite got used to it, you know? Thirty years commanding my own starship and it gets me every time. Look out there, Lieutenant - every one of those specks of light, every inch of blackness - that's what we're defending. We bring peace, justice to this galaxy. We keep the innocents alive and the thugs in the brig. The galaxy would be in chaos, in tyranny, if the Republic did not exist. I don't know about yourself, but I won't ever be ready for the task of keeping trillions safe. And, hell, I'm a Commander! Ha ha, who would have though. Anyhow, my apologies, you know how I get off-topic. You've heard of Republic Intelligence, right?"
VELN: "Yes, sir. I know that they have clandestine and civilian branches - I have always been an avid reader of all reports the civilian branch releases."
SIK'TAR: "As should all of my men. Lieutenant, if I could fill my ship with copies of you, I wouldn't hesitate for a second. Ha ha, can you imagine that? An army made of clones! Wouldn't that be the sight. I bet the Jedi would have a fit. But you're a modest man, I won't make you blush, ha ha."
VELN: "Thank you, sir. That means very much to me."
SIK'TAR: "Any time, Lieutenant. I'll get to the point, I promise. I received a message from Republic Intelligence a short time ago - not the civilian branch."
VELN: "Sir?"
SIK'TAR: "It's not a bad thing. The clandestine section just doesn't raise its head that often; in fact, I've only been contacted by them once or twice. Don't worry, it's not about your record; you've only got one infraction on your record, and that's the one from Carida. Not even worth being on the record, if you ask me. But, first, I need to know that you won't repeat a word of this."
VELN: "Of course, sir. It won't leave this bridge."
SIK'TAR: "Good, because this is fleet-level clearance - the Admiralty passed it on for ears-only. Republic Intelligence is planning a covert operation - one of the biggest in years. They've spent the last five years tracking a pirate group that call themselves the Black Sun. Apparently, this isn't any regular group of thugs - they're rumoured to be headed by ex-military. They recruit thugs but they act like soldiers. They've killed sixty-thousand innocents in the last year alone over seven systems, and a lot of activity is starting to show flags of Black Sun activity in the Core.
Intelligence is worried - they think that two things are happening. Either a group of wealthy separatist backers are trying to insert chaos into the system by funding the disgruntled, or there's a pirate threat rising that has to be shut down before the public hears too much about it. Both cases require extreme action, and fast. Admiral Tern over at Navy Command passed this along - specifically asked for you, though he wouldn't say why. What's your opinion so far, Lieutenant?"
VELN: "Well, sir... I'll gladly participate, but I'm not quite sure what Intelligence is demanding."
SIK'TAR: "They wouldn't say specifically, aside from that you'll have to meet their agents in person back on Coruscant. You'll be taking an unofficial leave - officially, you're still stationed on my ship - as well as traveling under an assumed name. I've got my shuttle ready and waiting to take you back to the Core. If I were you, I'd consider this carefully, Lieutenant; Intelligence has never made this sort of request, not during my service. I'd bet my left lekku that this is something the Republic really needs.
VELN: "I'll get my belongings as soon as possible, sir. Also, sir?"
SIK'TAR: "Yes, Lieutenant Veln?"
VELN: "If I don't come back to the ship, for whatever reason - it's been a pleasure serving with you. I only regret I can't tell the men the same thing."
SIK'TAR: "The pleasure was mine. You'll always be an exceptional soldier of the Republic, Lieutenant; one of the best I've ever had the privilege of commanding. May the Force bring you the best. Oh, and your men know, don't worry. Oh, one more thing?"
VELN: "Yes, sir?"
SIK'TAR: "If anybody from this point refers to you as Lieutenant-Commander, don't think they made a mistake. Safe travels, soldier."
close case file
FILE: The Prestigious Krayt Cantina, Coruscant Commerical Sector 5T
TIME: 2300h, 12,984BBY
TYPE: holo-recording
OVERSEER: INTEL SHADOW X6
Lieutenant-Commander Aphos Veln sat at the bar, twirling his drink's miniature binary sun straw with one hand, gazing absent-mindedly at the cantina's Bith performers. They had switched to a slower song when the lights had dimmed, serenading the multitude of couples that swung side-to-side, embracing, as they gracefully floated across the dance floor. The bar was the expensive sort; only the noble class - or those with money to spend - could afford to frequent such an establishment. Thankfully, Veln's alias, J'son Venge, was a successful merchant captain. To even the most paranoid, the young man at the bar was simply enjoying some leave before the next barge set off.
Veln scratched above his ear, partly because of his shaggy haircut - to fit his cover, he had grown out two inches of his natural jet-black hair (now dyed to a blonde) and a quarter-inch of beard stubble - but mostly due to the uncomfortable earpiece that sat lodged in his ear canal, softly buzzing with activity as the Republic Intelligence agents and handlers discussed their upcoming mission. He went back to twirling the straw, unable to get rid of the annoying itch, and glanced at his real object of focus.
Senator Marcus Taurig of Corellia, a human, sat in a private enclosed booth in the VIP section, barely visible through the four Zabrak bodyguards that flanked the frosted-glass door. He was currently engaged in entertaining his companions - an escort and two well-dressed businessmen - while he waited for the missing party of three that was to join him.
To anybody else that noticed him, the Senator would look like any other noble; wealthy, well-dressed, and with a definite aire of charismatic smugness that brought to mind a bipedal Hutt. However, the last five years of research had led to a partial paper trail between the Senator and recent Black Sun activity. By 'partial', Republic Intelligence meant that there were at least six million credits that had gone from the Senator's coffers to black-market hands.
The Senator was only part of the equation, though. His three guests were known crime lords, untouched by the police and too well-entrenched for easy elimination by the Republic. If times were easy, the attempt might have been made, but with the recent skirmishes and rising tensions in the Outer Rim, the Republic had left the Core to the police. Veln sighed. Bureaucracy.
Veln turned his gaze back to the performers, not wanting to alert the Senator's bodyguards; they seemed like seasoned professionals. One had a Zabrak military tattoo snaking around his muscular forearm, suggesting ex-military; he'd be the priority target, in any case. He swept his eyes over the bar; it was packed, at least three hundred patrons in sight. Not counting the numerous booths among the wall, there were three hundred and fifty civilians to be accounted for. Veln whistled, the sound lost in the din of the bar.
Well, three hundred and forty; ten of the figures in the crowd were elite Republic Intelligence operatives, each blending into the masses at the moment, waiting on Mission Control's call to move. With the exception of the bodyguards, Veln and the operatives were the only armed persons in the bar, everybody else having been stripped of their weaponry at the door. Whether or not this was good or bad was up in the air; people with blasters would at least take cover if a firefight broke out. Those without would only panic and make a take-down infinitely more difficult.
"LC Veln, was that whistle a signal for anything?" The earpiece drowned out the cantina's noise as one of the operatives, a female Twi'lek, addressed Veln. He smirked; though they didn't follow Republic code, the spooks were possibly the most uptight people he had ever met. He looked straight ahead and spoke, moving his lips to the words of the current song being played; talking to himself would probably bring unwanted attention. He hoped the small microphone embedded inside his cheek wouldn't fry him to death.
"No, I do that sometimes. Any updates from MC on the situation?"
"Affirmative. We have eyes on the Kingpins - their ETA is two minutes." The Kingpins were the three crime lords meeting the Senator.
"Roger, acknowledged. Everybody operational?" Even though he wasn't technically the mission's commander - none of them were - Veln tried to keep tabs as much as possible. Intelligence had no real chain of command, which was strange for the Lieutenant-Commander. He casually patted his hips, ensuring that his stowed carbine was still attached.
Arguably the coolest part of the mission was the weapon loadout; though it only consisted of one weapon, it still made Veln grin. For the mission, the spooks had commissioned Czerka Engineering to make a separable carbine; a fully-automatic, fully-functional weapon of war, carried in two halves. Upon unholstering, both halves would extend mating latches; three seconds later, the weapon would be fully operational and ready to deal damage. They said it was for concealment purposes, but Veln thought otherwise. Spooks love taking the impossible and doing it, he thought.
His train of thought was cut short as his earpiece pinged, the sign for mission commencement. He kept his composure and turned to face the entrance, promptly turning it back. He paused, then spoke.
"Alright, so, maybe I didn't read the brief fully, but I only recall there being mention of minor security detail. I don't think that ten bodyguards counts as a 'small security detail'."
"Affirmative, Mission Control was not informed. The mission is still on, we'll have to hit them fast when the targets are in position."
Veln rolled his eyes, proceeding to take a sip of his drink. They had fourteen bodies to move through before they could get to their targets. Being outnumbered wasn't the problem, it was that this would only extend conflict time. Every second that passed represented another chance for innocents to get harmed; Intelligence didn't quite worry about collateral, but Veln wouldn't stand for it.
"This is Mission Control. All agents, report ready."
"Ready," said Veln, pushing his drink back towards the bartender and standing out of his seat to step back into the crowd of people. He slowly worked his way towards the VIP section as the rest of the operatives confirmed ready status. In the mass of socialites, nobody noticed the ten plain-clothes operatives snaking towards the roped-off VIP section.
It was twenty feet to the rope, which was guarded by two bouncers; though they were physically imposing, they had no weaponry and were only trained to fight drunken sailors. They wouldn't hesitate to run if a crossfire broke out. After the rope, it was another fifteen feet to the enclosed booths; it was this distance that was the problem, as it was now filled with fourteen bodyguards, all scanning the crowd for any suspicious sound.
Veln went over the plan in his head again as he walked towards his marked point, a pillar that bordered the roped-off section. An Intelligence slicer would trigger the building's fire alarm, setting off the extinguishing systems in the cantina. This would also activate the pre-rigged lighting in the ceiling above the bodyguards, blinding them for a second as the operatives moved in. After that, it was combat; all hostile opposition would have to be dispatched, with the Kingpins and Jackal (the Senator) taken into custody.
The only reason Veln had agreed to participate was because of the potential impact of the sting; such a loss of funding and leadership would cripple the affiliated pirates, allowing Intelligence to gain ground and establish itself ahead of their presence. However, the possibility of collateral and uncertainty of the situation was really bugging him. Another hitch; the plan had to be executed in under five minutes, as any longer and the local police would arrive on the scene. Since Intelligence had no official clearance, that wasn't an option.
He got to the pillar, leaning against it and reading an adjacent HoloNet terminal. He could see two more figures walking against the crowd, moving towards him; two of the operatives. One of them nodded, the other making no indication she noticed him. He turned back to the terminal as they walked past him and took their respective positions.
Another chime from the earpiece. The second ready signal. He steadied himself, placing his hands by his sides to slip out the carbine. The third chime. He pulled the carbine and snapped it together, the latches actuating as it initialized its power cell and glowed red with activation. The club's fire alarm went off with the fourth chime, spraying extinguisher fluids out of ceiling-mounted nozzles; the patronage screamed and started stampeding toward the door as the first shot rang out.
Veln hit the military Zabrak with a three-round burst to the chest just as the spotlights flashed into action, blinding the bodyguards. The Zabrak flew to the ground as his comrades ran for cover, shielding their eyes and withdrawing their weapons. Feeling the crowd behind him fleeing, Veln crouched and took another shot, bowling over another Zabrak as he ran to cover. The targets in the booth had backed into a corner, nowhere to run and unarmed.
The other operatives had opened fire at the same time; the first five seconds resulted in half of the enemy force being destroyed as blaster fire tore into them. Taking care not to fire into the booth, Veln crouch-walked as he shot, hitting a human bodyguard in the right arm as he tried to fire at one of the operatives.
The remaining six bodyguards had taken cover behind various objects and were now returning fire. The Veln quickly ran to the next pillar, grimacing as one of the operatives sprinting towards cover was knocked over by a glowing burst of plasma from the hostile force. He turned and fired at the shooter, catching him just as he ducked back into cover. Five left.
The crossfire had been going on for thirty seconds; they had four minutes to apprehend their targets and evacuate to the waiting dropship. Veln narrowly avoided another flurry of plasma and shot blindly in its direction, rewarded with a satisfying scream of pain. He checked the Intelligence forces; one operative lay on the ground behind a counter, a blaster scorch scarring his right leg; an ally applied medical aid as blaster fire ripped over them.
This was taking too long. He shot an overhead light, showering the bodyguards with sparks, then dove into the open and let off three bursts of fire. Three targets went down. Not stopping, Veln aimed at the last bodyguard as the human threw his weapon to the side and put his arms behind his head. The Lieutenant-Commander started lowering his weapon as a burst of fire flew over his head, taking down the unarmed bodyguard.
Veln whipped around and started yelling as the shooter ran towards him, all targets eliminated.
"He was surrendering? You'll kill a man in cold blood even after he forfeits his life to you?"
The agent stopped and looked at him, remorseless. "He forfeited his life when he decided to protect a crime lord. And he injured my comrade. That's enough for me." The operative kept going, joining the others as they hauled the seven occupants of the booth out. Veln holstered his carbine as they jogged in formation to the cantina's entrance. He scanned the bar and held the doors as the operatives herded the targets into the waiting dropship, ignoring the Senator's furious cries of retribution. No innocent casualties. Patrons were peeking their heads from cover, but there were no injuries. He breathed a sigh of relief, catching himself as the last operative ran out, carrying the body of his downed comrade. Veln closed the doors and jumped into the dropship, watching as the cantina receded into the cityscape's distance.
close case file
FILE: UNMARKED
TIME: 0600h, 12,979BBY
TYPE: UNMARKED
OVERSEER: S.O.L.A.G. Creation Council
This meeting will come to order.
The Special Operations and Light Assault group has been convened.
S.O.L.A.G. is to henceforth be an independent division of the Republic armed forces. S.O.L.A.G. is exempt to all normal military process, accountability and chain of command.
Operational command will overrule traditional Navy, Army and Intelligence powers. Requisition requests are to be fulfilled with utmost speed. S.O.L.A.G. reports directly to the Republic after this meeting.
Commando forces will be formed exclusively by invitation of S.O.L.A.G. leadership.
Ranking system will be unique; Alpha for command, Beta for specialist, Charlie for combat specialist and Delta for support. A numerical system of one to ten will indicate a commando's seniority and ability.
This ranking system has been called into effect by the first S.O.L.A.G. Commander Alpha-10, Aphos Veln.
Former Lieutenant-Commander Veln is henceforth the Commander Alpha as per judgment of the Republic Admiralty board, decree issued by Grand Admiral Softwith.
The Special Operations and Light Assault Group are to mobilize to any high-risk, low-profile engagements.
This meeting will come to a close. S.O.L.A.G. now has full operational function.
May the Force be with you, Commander Veln.
FILE: Special Operations and Light Assault Group Cruiser Apostasy, orbiting unmarked location
TIME: 0800h, 12,978BBY
TYPE: holo-recording
OVERSEER: Commander Alpha-10 Aphos Veln
VELN: "Let's get this thing rolling. Report, Lieutenant."
TRAS: "Yes, sir. The Apostasy has finished all combat-readiness and -supply preparation. We're ready to jump to hyperspace on your command."
VELN: "Excellent. Everything I requisitioned has been delivered?"
TRAS: "Yes, sir. Oh, and a bottle of Corellian Brandy from Admiral Sik'tar. He sent his best wishes. It's in your quarters."
VELN: "Alright, then. The Bulwark is prepped for briefing?"
TRAS: "Yes, sir. All of the candidates you selected have been notified and are ready to be picked up."
VELN: "Perfect. Ladies and gentlemen, we're about to make history, though nobody will know until we're done. When this ship has left dry-dock, we will be the elite; single most-experienced, most-powerful military unit in this galaxy. We will go where the Republic can't step foot, and we will right the wrongs of this galaxy. But I'll save my inspirational speech for the briefing. Hyperspace on my mark... mark."
close case file
... end playback
"So?"
"Well, it's remarkable."
"I know you have an actual opinion. Spit it out. You wouldn't have put him through that mess with the crime lords on Coruscant in the first place if you didn't want him to rocket through the ranks."
"What do I think? I think it's insane. He may have a perfect record - barring that one mishap on Carida - but giving anybody discretion beyond the Republic's seems like a recipe for disaster. And he's, what, thirty-eight? I've known servicemen who have retired at sixty and never hit Sergeant."
"Yes, but how many servicemen do you know who can orchestrate an entire battlefield while using a pistol to hit a target fifty meters away? And not be complete savants who are socially useless? He'll go far, I think. Why did you put him on that mission?"
"I wanted to see him under pressure. I read his case. He hates innocents dying and he hates pirates; his performance was enough for me to take the risk. Not like I don't have misgivings - I just wanted to be sure I wasn't going to destroy the Republic for nothing.
"You respect him, I can tell. For now, try to keep your Intel spooks off of his case, alright? Give him some breathing room."
"I will, I will. I can only hope this is for the best."
VITAL STATISTICS:
if identified, report immediately to nearest Republic personnel
RACE: human
EYE COLOR: brown
HAIR COLOR: black
HEIGHT: 5'10"
AGE: 40, appears 35 (core years)
KNOWN AFFILIATIONS: Black Suns, Hutt Empire
SUSPECTED CRIMES:
- massacre of civilians at Tertho, Jaht and Kayn
- killing of Republic personnel
- theft of Republic property and equipment
- destruction of Republic property and equipment
- sabotage of Republic property and equipment
- defiling Republic property and equipment
- threatening to steal, destroy, sabotage and defile Republic property and equipment
- high crimes against the Republic
if identified, report immediately to nearest Republic personnel
RACE: human
EYE COLOR: brown
HAIR COLOR: black
HEIGHT: 5'10"
AGE: 40, appears 35 (core years)
KNOWN AFFILIATIONS: Black Suns, Hutt Empire
SUSPECTED CRIMES:
- massacre of civilians at Tertho, Jaht and Kayn
- killing of Republic personnel
- theft of Republic property and equipment
- destruction of Republic property and equipment
- sabotage of Republic property and equipment
- defiling Republic property and equipment
- threatening to steal, destroy, sabotage and defile Republic property and equipment
- high crimes against the Republic
EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY:
ANY INFORMATION REGARDING THE WHEREABOUTS OF THE CRIMINAL KNOWN AS APHOS VELN MUST BE REPORTED WITH HASTE TO THE NEAREST REPUBLIC MILITARY OFFICE
THOSE WHO SHELTER CRIMINALS FROM THE REPUBLIC WILL BE PROSECUTED AS PER ACT 25-385
PER THE SAME ACT, WILLINGLY AIDING AN INTERGALACTIC FUGITIVE IS PUNISHABLE BY INTERNMENT
ALL CITIZENS ARE TO BE VIGILANT AND ARE TO BE WARNED HENCEFORTH - THIS INDIVIDUAL IS EXTREMELY DANGEROUS
This message has been brought to you by the Republic Military's Public Service Announcement system. To unsubscribe, press here!
ANY INFORMATION REGARDING THE WHEREABOUTS OF THE CRIMINAL KNOWN AS APHOS VELN MUST BE REPORTED WITH HASTE TO THE NEAREST REPUBLIC MILITARY OFFICE
THOSE WHO SHELTER CRIMINALS FROM THE REPUBLIC WILL BE PROSECUTED AS PER ACT 25-385
PER THE SAME ACT, WILLINGLY AIDING AN INTERGALACTIC FUGITIVE IS PUNISHABLE BY INTERNMENT
ALL CITIZENS ARE TO BE VIGILANT AND ARE TO BE WARNED HENCEFORTH - THIS INDIVIDUAL IS EXTREMELY DANGEROUS
This message has been brought to you by the Republic Military's Public Service Announcement system. To unsubscribe, press here!
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