THE RECRUIT

FORN: Recruiting

Classified Imperial Base
Lower Levels Generator 01
Daro
LST: 23:32:16 // DAY: 07
RC-5570

"I don't know, Sparkstick," says Captain Mech overseeing his brothers bet around a game of Sabacc. He crosses his arms leaning against the guard railing. He doesn't play anymore not since— Cardshark...Has it really been a year? Mech recalls absently touching the scars on his head. His brothers would rather try their hand with a group of Jawas than deal that brother in. His name carried his reputation after all.

"C'mon, mate, she's exactly what we need." Sparkstick rearranges his hand of cards studying them with a blank face. "Everyone has their eyes on us 'clones' expecting us to snap at any minute. She'll be able to sneak around without someone breathing down her neck. A spy without any connection to us."

"Bomb out." Hardcopy sighs laying down his cards. "Taipan has only been here a week and seems awfully loyal to the Empire. But if she isn't..."

"What do you think Tapcaf?" Sparkstick says tossing a rare messhall pastry onto the pot, probably as stale as permacrete blocks but still sweet enough to satisfy their sugar cravings.

Tapcaf matches the raise with two packs of insta-caf and flicks his cards onto the upturned supply crate. Sparkstick smiles broadly pulling in the whole pile. It is mostly bacta patches and an assortment of old Republic credits. The credits have no value in the Empire's drastically changing economy but it gives them something to bet with. The pastry with little candied nuts in it is a surprising treat.

The medic says, "I think you boys are crazy. Remember what happened to Gregor when he tried deserting?"

The space falls silent.

Sparkstick takes a bite of the stale-looking cake he won back. The accelerated aging still hasn't affected their ravenous appetites nor their need for the extra carbohydrates. "Yeah, but if you think about it," he says, swallowing hard having not finished chewing, "He did that solo. Imagine what we could do together. Plus, he escaped eventually with some help from the defect squad."

Mech rubs his chin thinking and feels some stubble. He notes to shave later. "Look. Until we know where her loyalties lie we can't trust her with any of this."

"Well, who is she anyways?" Sparkstick says rubbing his forefinger over his strip of goatee.

Hardcopy takes out his datapad and offers it to Sparkstick. Knowing the techie, he had probably reviewed her file fifty times. "Her background check is clear both before and after the war. No real records at all."

"What was she doing prior to signing up for the Empire?" Mech says. "Because she clearly doesn't fight like a civvi."

Sparkstick scrolls through the page. "Says here she was a..." He looks up unsure. As if it would change Mech's mind about letting her in on the plan.

"A what?" Mech frowns, impatient with the unnecessary delay.

"A gladiator." Sparkstick says and directly reads off the file, "'Often eating her fallen opponents.'"

"What?" Hardcopy reaches over the table snatching the datapad out of Sparkstick's hands. "Let me see that." He scrolls further down the holopage.

Sparkstick shrugs stuffing the rest of the cake in his cheek. "Guess it's a good thing the Admiral was there with you during her first day of training, huh, Mech? Otherwise, those TK troopers would have made a quick snack."

Mech imagines Taipan ripping off their armor like a feral lothwolf and sinking her teeth into the closest spot of open skin, probably the jugular. Their skin peeling off in strips between her sharp incisors, red running down her chin and across her pale face. Zabraks are known for their ruthlessness after all. Perhaps that TK trooper wasn't wrong in calling her an animal.