- Joined
- Aug 10, 2009
- Messages
- 2,528
- Reaction score
- 55
So the Hutts had Bothawui... Yeah, right. Spectre wasn't too hot when it came to politics or the definitions of victory and defeat, but he was dead certain that you hadn't won when there was still an enemy to fight. He hoped the Hutts knew that, for their sakes.
He was furious. His squad had suffered badly, being some of the thousands left to die by a Navy running scared. Only the most ruthless of those abandoned had survived, outrunning and out-gunning those that would have seen them dead. All that remained of the 472nd was himself, Ptolemy, Ravenor and Fulsk. They had always been the hardest men in the unit, and now they were all that was left. They had each sworn to give their lives for the Republic down here, in whatever way they could. they would fight the Hutt invader with every atom of their beings.
There were others with them, disparate survivors too deadly or to evasive to have been shot or caught. Together they had formed the underground movement, the illegal Republic, the revolution. They were the few against the many, and Spectre loved it. Where else could he constantly test himself? Where else was there a constant threat of death? It was heaven for him. Only Ravenor agreed.
There was a small team of Resistance Troopers with him now, in the Capital itself. They were in the ship yards, on the outskirts of the city, posing as workers, for now. Their mission was to steal and/or destroy the vital military supplies convoy that was landing there in about fifteen minutes. They had brought enough explosives to get the job done, but Spectre would prefer to get the goods, they needed it if they didn't want to go hungry.
He waited behind his crate, ticking off the seconds on his watch. His team were assembled and ready, in hiding places just like his. He smiled to himself, this was going to be fun...
He was furious. His squad had suffered badly, being some of the thousands left to die by a Navy running scared. Only the most ruthless of those abandoned had survived, outrunning and out-gunning those that would have seen them dead. All that remained of the 472nd was himself, Ptolemy, Ravenor and Fulsk. They had always been the hardest men in the unit, and now they were all that was left. They had each sworn to give their lives for the Republic down here, in whatever way they could. they would fight the Hutt invader with every atom of their beings.
There were others with them, disparate survivors too deadly or to evasive to have been shot or caught. Together they had formed the underground movement, the illegal Republic, the revolution. They were the few against the many, and Spectre loved it. Where else could he constantly test himself? Where else was there a constant threat of death? It was heaven for him. Only Ravenor agreed.
There was a small team of Resistance Troopers with him now, in the Capital itself. They were in the ship yards, on the outskirts of the city, posing as workers, for now. Their mission was to steal and/or destroy the vital military supplies convoy that was landing there in about fifteen minutes. They had brought enough explosives to get the job done, but Spectre would prefer to get the goods, they needed it if they didn't want to go hungry.
He waited behind his crate, ticking off the seconds on his watch. His team were assembled and ready, in hiding places just like his. He smiled to himself, this was going to be fun...