I seem to be the only one without a scratch - well, shit, eye of the fucking storm again. Kinda lonely at the top.

Mandall steps out from cover and levels his gun at the fleeing highwayman.

"Here's one for the road!"

BLAM!

*stab*

"Die!...You..."

*stab*

"stupid...backstabbing..."

*stab*

"bitch!"

Life is easy when seen down the scope of a rifle - atleast it is for Eritram. He arrives late at the scene only to see some of his wingmates go down fighting.

The accurate blasts of red death cant save them.

Mandall lines up and sends a taunt along with a final blast down the tunnel. The thug half-rolls, half-slides to the ground.

It's quick enough work to clear the mole-cart with the (squirrely and in need of constant babying) skiff. Even if Sullust was a Rebel planet, this kind of incident doesn't need undue attention from authorities. Their comrade and cargo back aboard the skiff, the Vandals make their way back to the Dagger, where the skiff finally gives up its ghost.

Eyes turn to MDK-911. The droid had seen them (most of them) safely back to their ship - would he turn on them now? In a bit of serendipity, among the new blaster scoring and craters in the droid's armor there is a fresh blast mark where the restraining bolt used to be.

"I'll prep the ship," Arnae mutters, heading up the ramp. That was code for "I'll be on the turret in case MDK decides to make trouble."

Aurelia takes the blast and hits the deck of the skiff hard on her back. Grunting in pain, she swings a booted foot out to jam herself against one of the skiffs guard rails before the momentum of the...intentionally out of control...craft throws her beneath it.

When Jorm finally brings the craft to a stop, she slides off, holding her arm gently and surveying the ruination brought about by the skiff. She shakes her head softly, looking depressed.

"Dutch...Jaz...I'm sorry."

She drops the holdout pistol that had been drawn during the fight in the dirt, sitting rather forlornly on the deck of the skiff as they make their way back.

Walked away from this life twice now...This is getting old.

MDK glances at the carbon scoring where his restraining bolt used to be, then fires a compensatory burst of shots into Jileeza.

"I never cared working for the woman. She was always...trouble. Mr. Stryker was an affable person, but I believe (looking around at the crew of the Dagger) my services may be better suited in your endeavors."

The droid's blasters retract into its forearm ports, lifting Dutch's body off the skiff.

"This man deserves a proper burial, most certainly not on this rock."

Dieter wrote:

"This man deserves a proper burial, most certainly not on this rock."

"Yes he does," is almost all that Jorm is able to squeak out the whole trip home. Everything else he does on autopilot. From piloting the remains of the skiff with the remains of the people who killed Dutch spattered across it back to the ship, to loading the parts, to bandaging his wound.

Jorm doesn't help guide the ship away from the planet. He doesn't watch the systems like a hawk. He just sits in the cargo bay with Dutch's body.

He always watched out for me. I know I was a pain in the ass, but he still watched out for me. Taught me so much. And he died over some stupid parts. My stupid parts. And I couldn't save him.

As best Calsera can tell, Dutch was the only casualty. Still, a few others are wounded, and will need to be seen to eventually. But now is not the tiime.

They load the cargo up and get back to the ship as best they can. The droid's behavior has been strange, and Cat keeps a careful eye on it.

Stranger yet, the droid seems moved by the fate of their former crewmate, and suggests that it travel with them! Calsera just stares at the droid for several moments.

"Uhm... I guess I'm okay with that. How about you guys?..."

"I agree," she says, in response to the droid's proposal to find a place to bury Dutch's body. She had never really known him well, but Cat had respected the old soldier. He will be missed. "Anybody know what planet he was from, or whether he had any family?"

Ganet is a bit surprised to see the shopping trip end as it did. Not especially surprised, but a bit surprised.

"I'll take care of the arrangements. We talked a lot. He was one of the only commanders who'd have me, you know. One of the only people who trusted me."

Ganet's uncharacteristic display of emotion and sentiment is soon covered over with the familiar inscrutible expression he normally wears. He sets about astronav and the other preparations, muttering, "wonder how they're going to write this one up..."

Aurela listens to the muttering, speaking up quietly. There is a tone in her voice that is utterly unfamilar to anyone...not the man she's flown with for years, and not the crew she's gone into combat with. It's hard...harder than it should be.

"Skiff malfunction."

Arnae's busied himself with ship prep, and as he creeps down the ramp it looks as if he's looking for something to keep him busy.

"Skiff mal... I have no doubt that's what'll get put on Kolit's report. What are we writing it up as?" A panel flashes red to green on the access ramp, breaking up Arnae's train of thought.

"Um. Anyway. We're all ready here. If Sarge-" He catches himself and there's a flash in Arnae's eyes as he mentally kicks himself for his slip. "If they find out about it while we're still here, they'll lock down the hangar and I don't think we can handle all of 'em."

Arnae returns to his original point as he frees the last of the Dagger's umbilicals. "Skiff malfunction?"

"I'll handle Kolit," says Jorm, almost absentmindedly over the comm. "You guys just worry about getting patched up." A few seconds later, "My fault.." comes over the comm as if Jorm forgot to shut it off, or turned his mouth away from the mic as he spoke.

"I think our best option is just to be open and honest about it. We went to Striker because of past connections to him. Unfortunately, his partner got greedy and turned on us."

Murdock finds a shady spot in the common area, powering down his main systems and running a diagnostic on his secondaries. His presence is a bit sinister, but the droid seems to not be causing any trouble.

"Yeah, that'll fly. We walked right into a frakkin' Hutt den and thought we could get a good deal because some of their guys used to ride with some of our guys. Filthy frakking criminals, all of them. We shoulda seen that ambush coming from a mile away."

As Mandall gesticulates angrily, he suddenly notices a hint of pain. Checking his body, he finds a blaster wound.

"And can somebody tell me when the frack this happened?"

" ' All of them' incorporates two of your current comrades Mandall, and the superficial wound came from a blaster - in a fight where one of your squadmates died."

Aurelia's answer crackles over the comm - as she has a tendency to do, she has once more vanished somewhere in the bowels of the Dagger.

"I thought we just left the frakkin' funeral."

Mandall takes a second to collect himself, trying to take the anger out of his voice.

"Look. I don't doubt that you and Arnae are good guys, but that doesn't make the people you used to hang with good guys, too. I'm saying we should've expected that. Dutch didn't die holding off an Imperial Armada. He got done in by good, old-fashioned backstabbing. Maybe Stryker was in on it, maybe it was the bitch acting alone, I don't much care. All I know is that we're a man down on what shoulda been a cakewalk.

I don't blame you, but...we have to be on top of the game. Right there, we weren't."

Dutch's funeral is on a green moon far from the war, on a little farm he had been keeping for when he retired (something he joked about every week). It's a surprise to some of the Vandals that the gruff soldier actually owned anything that wasn't a blaster, military uniform, or alcoholic. Ganet and Jorm do most of the talking, the others having said their goodbyes (for the most part) in hyperspace. The smoke still rises from the pyre when they lift off for Mon Calamari.

Sword of Alderaan, in orbit above Mon Calamari
---

The Rusty Dagger touches down on a bustling flight deck. Equipment and crew are coming in from Mon Cal in a steady stream. New personnel stand out on the worn decks, as do the clean-cut lines of new shuttles and fighters.

The Vandals start unloading the Dagger while Jorm sucks it up and heads up the lift to find Captain Kolit. He finds the Calamari fast-walking down a corridor, datapad in hand.

"Crewman Taban, you've got more than a day of leave left. What are you doing here?"

"You guys have the parts stowed with the Decimator frame and go have some fun," calls Jorm into the cabin of the Dagger as his disembarks. "I'm gonna see Kolit. Assuming I live through this and I'm not demoted to Mop Jockey Junior Grade I'll see you later." He pauses at the ramp and tosses a bit of coin back aboard. "First round is on me."

Jorm's mind comes up with about a thousand different things he could do to put off seeing Kolit, but he knows that doing so would be an affront to Dutch's memory. He wouldn't chicken out. He'd just walk up to Kolit and tell him "Sir, I'm dead."

Quote:

"Crewman Taban, you've got more than a day of leave left. What are you doing here?"

"It's Dutch, sir" begins Jorm, "He's dead." Jorm takes a deep breath and continues before Kolit can interrupt. "During leave, I took a trip to Sullust to obtain some parts needed for a project of mine. The Vandals were kind enough to accompany me. We were on our way back to the Dagger
with the parts when we were waylaid by bandits. A couple of the Vandals sustained non life-threatening injuries, but they got Dutch. We found out later that the leader of the thugs was second-in-command of the most powerful crime syndicate on Sullust. She was, that is, until Dutch killed her."

Jorm manages to breathe again. "Sir, I take full responsibility for this incident."

Captain Kolit's been on the receiving end of some pretty unexpected reports, what with three special operations groups on his carrier. "Wildman's holding the XO hostage and is demanding we stop for sabacc and hookers." "Nine MPs are in Medical because Glorsh was drunk." "Mandall's been captured by the Green Women of Latula VII but told us to hold off on the rescue op."

Jorm's news causes him to drop his datapad. "My office." A brief walk later, Jorm is standing, Kolit is sitting, and Jorm repeats his account of the incident. Kolit nods in agreement when Jorm describes Dutch's farewell ceremony. "I want a full report from you and your men, leave or no leave. Yes, I said your men. I don't have anyone qualified to take leadership of 11th Wing right now, so you're the man. Get it done, Lieutenant. Dismissed."

Jorm turns to key the door back out into the ship when Kolit interrupts. "A bit of advice, Taban? It's war, and people die. You'll learn to know when it's your fault, but this wasn't one of those times. We both know not everyone is as rational as that, so this promotion serves two purposes. One, it protects you. There are harsh penalties for attacking an officer. Two, I believe you are qualified for the job. You planned and executed a successful operation with no support. Speaking of which, I want the full details of this project you spoke of included in your official report. I'm making it part of 11th Wing's current duties as of right now."

"Oh, I almost forgot. You're getting a new crewman" - Kolit sifts through some data - "Tynam Ridemis, hails from Theed. Has some experience running blockades and some technical know-how if this report is accurate. He should be coming aboard today. Don't put him in Medical, I know how you ACAGs welcome people."