[MillietheWarrior]

The monitors and the screens jumped and flashed in front of his eyes.

Flyte’s head rocked in motion to a beat only he could hear, the loud, pulsing music inside his helmet the only thing to keep him company as he monitored the screens for anything out of the ordinary. His hands flew over the controls in front of him, his eyes barely seeing but knowing instinctively what he was typing. The words appeared on a screen to his right, and inside his helmet, he blinked to bring it up to the side of his HUD, watching it out of the corner of his bright green gaze. The letters flew by, and Flyte almost seemed to be ignoring what he was typing in favor of monitoring two more screens to his left, one with green, red, and yellow dots moving and jumping about on them. The other had rows and rows and columns of names and different troop and supply transports, along with what they were carrying and the exact amount of each. Flyte seemed content at his job, neither bothering with the outside world or concerned with it. All that concerned him were the flashing lights, the screens and the beat in his helmet.

Another screen flashed in his HUD, and with a frown of confusion, Flyte blinked to bring it up. A shot of his second in command, lieutenant Cage appeared, and the man seemed a bit more nervous than usual. His face twitched occasionally, and he kept looking over his shoulder as if someone might appear at any moment and tackle him to the ground. With another blink, the music in Flyte’s helmet cut off, and he maximized the screen so Cage’s face filled it up. “What’s up, Cage?” he asked brusquely, waiting patiently for his lieutenant to stop flinching at every sound. “Uh, sir…The Merc is here. What should I do?” Flyte leaned forward in his chair a little, as if leaning towards Cage, though the man was nowhere near him. “He is? Send him in. And for heaven‘s sake, Cage, stop drinking all that coffee. You look like you‘re about to twitch out of your boots.” Flyte’s fingers tapped the keyboard, and he blinked to dismiss the screen with Cage on it, bringing up the other screens he’d been monitoring before and turning the music back on in his helmet.

It was no secret that Flyte disapproved of the use of hired bounty hunters in the Republic’s forces. What could some filthy merc do that a highly trained commando couldn’t? Flyte was confident in his own abilities, and the abilities of his brothers. They were the best; elite. Despite what the regular troops said about the ARC troopers (They were ‘fried in the brain’ or ‘wonky’ or even ‘unpredictable and uncontrollable’ most of which was somewhat true, but only to an extent) they were still the best, and there was nothing they couldn’t do. So why then, did anyone feel the need to send in these dishonorable killers? The second someone offers them more money, they’d jump ship, and Flyte was going to be there to make sure he took out every last one of the disgusting traitors. He’d pull the trigger himself. His face remained neutral even as the thought of having to kill another living being flittered through his mind; he seemed unfazed as the music pounded in his ears and his head bobbed to the beat. A screen flickered up at his bidding inside his HUD, and he carefully watched the door to the control room behind him, waiting patiently for the Merc to step through the door. The Merc Flyte may potentially have to dispose of himself.

[Flame]

Well. She’d certainly seen more impressive than this before in her time.

Her sharp, emerald-green eyes surveyed her surroundings with superior indifference, taking in every single little detail of the base around her, her face completely obscured by the reflective gold visor of her dark helmet as she made her way down the hall. As far as any observer could tell, her gaze remained dead-set straight forward, and hadn’t wavered once from her intended course, wherever that led to. Despite all of her armor, she moved surprisingly fluidly and silently (although that shouldn’t have been too terribly surprising, considering the wardrobe similarities here), and her gait seemed like more of a stalk than a walk. It wasn’t too terribly difficult to pick her out from the crowd; after all, she was the only one in full black armor, and it didn’t take more than half a glance to see that its design was completely different from the standard-issue seen throughout the base.

However, if that alone wasn’t enough to set her apart, she somehow seemed to exude an overwhelming aura of ‘don’t mess with me’, even though her expression was hidden from sight. She was given a wide berth as she navigated her way through the base, the men that she passed giving her a good 5-foot radius as they walked by, shooting her a mixture of furtive, nervous, and suspicious glances out of the corners of their eyes. What was more was that she had no guide, even though she’d never set foot inside this base before today. She had refused one, saying that she would find her own way, and the clone who had offered hadn’t seemed terribly keen on contradicting her, perhaps because of the rough, deep voice that brooked no argument from him (courtesy of the voice modifier that no one but her had knowledge of).It was quite clear though that he had his doubts anyone could negotiate the many corridors and rooms of the base alone on the first shot. On the contrary, Tex seemed to have no problems whatsoever, despite his misgivings. After all, she hadn’t gotten where she was today based on being ill-informed.

It was only a few minutes before she reached what she assumed was the control room – where she had been directed to meet the man who was apparently in charge here, and who she would likely be working the most closely with. She could only hope that he wouldn’t be completely incompetent; sometimes, no sum of money could be enough to make her bear having to work (if it could even be called that) with some of the men she’d most unfortunately been assigned to. Accidents – for lack of a better word – were prone to happen in those kinds of cases, and needless to say, she wasn’t the one who took the fall for them. She palmed the lock beside the door, and as they hissed open, she silently stepped through, stopping just inside as her gaze was drawn to the man directly at the main controls. She knew he could see her and that he was watching her; the surveillance cam wasn’t exactly hard to spot, and he would have been a fool (or a woefully terrible leader) to not have been expecting her already. Folding her arms across her chest, she simply stood and waited to be acknowledged, ignoring the curious looks from the rest of the clones who happened to be occupying the same room.

[MillietheWarrior]

The door slid open, the soft hiss signifying the arrival of the Merc. Flyte glanced only briefly to the screen in his HUD, but didn’t seem, bothered by it. With a blink, he opened a comm channel to the other clones in the control room, few though they were. “Everyone get out, please,” he said politely. “The Merc and I have some things to discuss.” there was a general consensus among the other clones that it would be a good idea to leave when Flyte was using his ‘polite tone’ and there was a Merc on the other side of the room. None of them wanted anywhere near either of the two dangerous soldiers, so leaving the room definitely wasn’t a problem. They skirted the Merc, giving her a wide berth as they dashed out of the room, each mumbling to himself about what a nightmare this was all going to be.

Flyte clicked the music off in his helmet, and shut down the screen to the door, leaving only the minimized windows of the screens he’d been monitoring before the Merc had stepped into the room. Slowly, he turned his chair so he was facing her, his face unreadable behind his helmet. His eyes took in her appearance, from the armor to the air of ‘I’m going to kick your ass’ she seemed to exude. Flyte wasn’t impressed. He’d met plenty of Jedi and ARC troopers who seemed to think they were the Galaxy’s gift to the Republic, and each time he encountered them, they always came up short. This Merc, with her obvious attitude and her looks wasn’t anything to be concerned about; he could tell by the way she was standing that she’d be a handful to deal with. She looked as if she’d rather be punching someone in the fact than standing in a room waiting for a debrief.

Rolling his eyes, Flyte hauled himself to his feet, folding his hands behind him. His kama swished around his legs as he walked, stopping a few feet in front of her. His back straight and his body stiff, he let the silence between them stretch on for a few uncomfortable minutes. He didn’t seem ruffled by the idea of dealing with someone like this, but then again., Flyte was hardly ever ruffled. “So,” he began, his voice sounding as nonplussed as he felt. “You’re the ‘hired gun.’ I must say, I’m not very impressed.” He spoke as though he was having a casual conversation, and not as though he’d just insulted a total stranger.

“As it stands, I am now your commanding officer. You will address me as ‘Captain,’ or ‘Captain Flyte.’ I don’t tolerate insubordination among my ranks, nor will I tolerate it from you. You are being paid to follow orders, and I will remind you that what I say goes. Can you manage that? Or do we have to pay you to think as well?” He raised an eyebrow behind his helmet, his face impassive even as he watched her; if this Merc was smart, she’d agree immediately. Of course, Flyte had no idea of her name, her gender, or her age, but he had not interest in any of that anyways. All that mattered was whether she could do the job she’d been hired to do, and if he’d have to dispose of her himself for disobeying his orders.

[Flame]

The faintest hint of a smirk flickered across Tex’s unseen face, one corner of her lips quirking upwards by the most microscopic degree. She watched as the men on either side of her seem to decide almost simultaneously to get up and exit the control room, leaving their head honcho conveniently alone with her. Well, clearly there were things he didn’t want his men seeing, and she couldn’t help the tiny spark of curiosity as to exactly what it was that he had to hide. Then again, from her past experience, those with power generally tended to be intolerable suck-ups who would do literally anything for a promotion, yet happened to be woefully incompetent at actually getting anything – let alone their job – done. So far, she’d seen very little to contradict her theory that, to her exasperation, this man was just another one of ‘those’.

She was the perfect picture of apathy as she watched him finally begin to make his way over, as if she were a patient parent simply waiting for the disobedient child to finally cave in and comply to cooperating, if reluctantly. Her stance didn’t budge a fraction of an inch as he came to a stop in front of her, bearing down on her with the few inches of height he had over her. If anything, she seemed royally unconcerned as the otherwise awkward silence dragged on, although any other person would likely have quailed under the clone’s intimidating presence. However, if she had been expecting anything vaguely remarkable, she was only disappointed when he decided to open his mouth and speak. She snorted soundlessly to herself; clearly this man couldn’t possibly be known for his intelligence. Of course she wasn’t going to saunter in looking like a freaking gun-show, or whatever the hell he had apparently been expecting her to look like. If she’d wanted attention, she would have walked outside with a huge, flashing LED target on her back. To be underestimated was to have the element of surprise, but seemingly it wouldn’t take terribly much to surprise this one.

There was a beat or two of frosty, clearly disdainful silence before she finally decided that holding her tongue any longer wouldn’t convey anything to this man. As she spoke, the deep male voice was cool and equally as mockingly offhanded and polite. “I’m glad we’re finding common ground by starting on the same page, as the feeling is mutual.” However, his next words only served to further support her theory that he was a completely self-absorbed, egotistical person who loved nothing more than bossing others around. Like hell she was going to let him simply push her around and get off completely scot-free; he had a thing or two to learn about her temperament, and it happened to be a ‘swim or drown only’ class.

“Such impeccable manners you have.” Her tone was now a borderline drawl, saturated and dripping with causticness. “Well, since we’re sharing, I’d like to make it known that I don’t tolerate disrespect from anyone, and you are no exception, regardless of how high and mighty you may think you are. It just so happens that my orders don’t come directly from you…or did your command neglect to mention to you that their instructions to me were classified? Our interests just happen to coincide, at least for now, unfortunately for me.” Despite the clear sarcasm, it was also obvious that she meant every word she said, and that she wouldn’t be taking any kind of crap from him, period. However, she did pride herself greatly in her work, so she would do what was necessary to get the job done, given he wasn’t too much of a twit about it.

“Quite the contrary. You should be glad I wasn’t, because otherwise, this…‘conversation’ would be going very differently, believe me.” It was the truth; if she wasn’t currently being paid an extremely pricey commission for her services, he probably wouldn’t still be talking right now. Even through her visor, her unblinking stare was quelling as she observed him silently for a moment or two, letting her last words settle before finally speaking again. “You don’t tread on my toes or get in my way, and what needs to be done will get done. Does that sound agreeable to you…Captain?”

[MillietheWarrior]

Flyte sniffed, sounding unimpressed. “My, my. A Merc with a mouth. Imagine that.” He didn’t seem impressed, and turned his back to her, a dismissal if there ever was one. He really wanted nothing to do with her, and it was just his misfortunate that she happened to be stuck on his base and under his watch. “I find it amusing that the second you open your mouth, you solidify all the assumptions I’ve made about you and your kind.”  He picked up a data pad, scrolling through it with his eyes as he sent the directions form his helmet to the ‘pad. Each individual assignment she’d been given was here, for his eyes only. Oh, he knew about them, but she didn’t need to know that. “As long as you are on my base, you will play by my rules, Mercenary,” he said coolly, turning back to face her with the empty t-visor once more.

“And as such, I expect you to either hold your tongue around my men, or don’t speak with them at all. They have enough on their mind without being bothered by some two-bit, worthless bounty hunter who can’t manage to get work with anyone else.” It was clear what he thought about her; working with the Republic could be seen as selling out in the circles she ran in. Bounty hunters were expected to find their own bounties. He turned away from her, and sat back down in his chair, clearly disinterested in her being there. It didn’t mean he took his eyes off her; the screen on the side of his HUD flashed to life again as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. “I have no intention of hindering you or your ‘job.’ If you afford me the same courtesy, then I won’t be forced to wipe another one of the Republic’s failed plans off the grid.”

He turned suddenly, and his black gloved hands reached up to unclasp the helmet seals on his bucket. With a faint hiss, he lifted the helmet from his head, and stared levelly across at her with electric green eyes, so unlike his brothers’ in their depth and clarity. His face was neutral, impassive, and he didn’t seem inclined to give any of his thoughts away with it. “Let’s get a few things straight before I send you on your way. I don’t want you here, I don’t need you here, and I certainly don’t endorse the Republic’s decision to hire mercenary slime.  If you endanger my men, I will shoot you myself. If you betray the Republic, I will hunt you down and make sure you don’t get a chance for a repeat performance. I have no interest in your affairs, save where the Republic and it’s stock are concerned. I know a lot more than you think about your so called ’assignments,’ so don’t presume that I am an uninformed idiot.”

His eyes remained patient,, glittering with a deadly calm as he stared at her with a predatory intelligence. “Keep your mouth shut, and your opinions to yourself. I have no interest in hearing any of them. Do your job, mercenary, and I’ll do mine.” With a dismissive sniff, he turned away from her, waving his hand over his shoulder. “You are dismissed. Get out of my control room.”

[Flame]

While he seemed superiorly unimpressed, Tex was just as equally impressed by just how ignorant and blind he appeared to be. Sure, she had been expecting an idiot, or perhaps someone who was simply sadly incompetent at best, but this was just ridiculous. Of course, it was rather funny that he’d mention assumptions, because as she recalled, he had been the first to speak, and in doing so, had shot the first bullet into her already sadly dilapidated image of him. “As much as the irony and your hypocrisy amuse me, I charge extra to play ‘boss and subordinate'. I’m afraid catering to your every whim wasn’t part of my contract, so for the first time in your pitifully short life, you shall simply have to learn how to do without. God forbid you actually get something done yourself for once instead of always having someone else do all the real work.”

His next words elicited a cynical snort from her. Did he really think that she came here just to make small talk? Well, clearly the so-called ‘mercenaries’ that they had here were apparently as worthless as he had made himself out to be. Why was she, a Freelancer, even bothering to waste her time here? “That’s the point, clone. Unlike your woefully sentimental and dependent kind, I work best alone, so if you have even an ounce of sense, you’d leave me out of your petty games of ‘who’s the leader’. Don’t flatter yourself by thinking that I have time to spare sitting flat on my ass and doing nothing but running my mouth the way you do.” During this entire exchange, her posture hadn’t changed even marginally, her folded arms giving her a permanently politely bored look. On the contrary, she was actually quite amused by his blind confidence that he could simply ‘wipe her off the grid’ like he said he would. Clearly, based on everything she’d heard in the past five minutes alone, this man was all talk and no walk. Despite all his bluff, he wouldn’t pose any problems to her unless he was set on talking an ear off, which seemed to be a very real possibility at this rate.

She smirked behind her helmet as he launched himself into yet another self-righteous diatribe, clearly having fun winding himself up. She couldn’t help but be amused by and pity him for actually believing that he was oh-so-important in this chain of command. Did he really think that his superiors would have entrusted every little scrap of information that they had to a disposable, replaceable duplicate like him? Of course he’d like to think that, and of course they’d want to keep him happy. After all, it was a small price to pay for his blind, unquestioning servitude to them. What he clearly wasn’t aware of was the fact that his precious Republic was paying her a heck of a lot more than his entire life was worth in credits, but she wasn’t going to use that against him…not yet at least. Even she drew a line as to what insults were appropriate, but if he insisted on pushing her buttons, she wouldn’t hesitate to pull out all the stops.

Honestly though, his whole holier-than-thou act was now getting old. A low, dark chuckle bubbled from her throat, the sound cruel. “Seems I’ve found a sore spot, hmm? Well, believe whatever gets you to sleep at night.” He was welcome to think whatever he wanted; as long as she got paid and he didn’t get in her way, he could be under the illusion that he was king of the universe, for all she cared. “Here’s some advice for you; take your own advice before giving it. I know for a fact that I’ve been around the block more times than you can count, so you’d best learn to respect your elders, clone. You never know when the day will come that you wish you’d sucked up to the right people instead…” With a cold laugh, she turned and sauntered back out of the room, giving him no chance to think up a cheap comeback to throw back at her before she vanished from sight.