Unknown Regions: 0 C
"You are pathetic. You were defeated so easily by someone who would have easily lost to any of the foes I have slain."
"It was your plan. It was your failure. OUR failure. You and I are one and..."
"You are nothing! I am far superior to anything a failure such as yourself could ever have amounted to. Now you will pay the price for your frailty."
"You may kill me, but my army will ensure you never escape this planet."
"Fool. If they followed a decrepit imitation, they will without fail follow the original."
_____
Bespin: 0 C
"Simply fascinating, isn't it, Dembe?" Reddington admired the location of the high-class establishment he had selected. "An entire city suspended above the clouds. We could barely build a house on the ocean without something going awry within a few years." Dembe, on the other hand but to be expected, seemed anxious.
"Are you sure this is an appropriate meeting place, Raymond?" he wondered and glanced out the window, immediately shifting his gaze back to the patrons in the room.
"It'll be fine, Dembe. Administrator Calrissian already gave us his blessing," Reddington warmly assured him.
"You still need to stop making it a habit of meeting people that can easily kill you by yourself."
"It's fine. I have you, don't I? Besides, there's a no weapon policy on this premises."
"Which you disobeyed."
"But hopefully they won't."
"Raymond, we both know they don't need one to kill a man larger than you."
"E-excuse m-m-me," the beige Zabrak greeter stammered at Reddington's five guests in their own unique armors. The poor soul mustered up as much courage as he could and said, "We-we don't allow weapons on th-th-these p-premises. You will have to leave them here if you are to be seated."
The Mandalorian in silver and blue loomed over the terrified worker, the one in orange seeming to be ready to assist either party, when the Mandalorian in pure blue armor said, "You've got guts, friend, I'll give you that. But trust me, it isn't worth it."
Reddington stood up and announced, "Mould, they're with me." The unfortunate alien did several double-takes before hurriedly escorting them to the table. "I do hope you're all hungry. I've taken the liberty of ordering a few horderves."
"I didn't think we'd be sticking around long enough to eat," the Mandalorian woman in orange, Mirta Gev, thought aloud to the group. Reddington chuckled.
"I did say it would be a quick meeting, didn't I?" he smiled. "You must be the gra- no, GREAT granddaughter."
"The greatest," she seemed to beam from under her helmet.
"Agreed. Any child willing to continue the family business, especially one such as yours, deserves the highest commendations. You should be very proud, Mr. Fett."
"Still bonding," Jango dismissed the comment. "So, do you have a job for us or not?"
"I can see where your son gets it from," Raymond sighed ammusedly.
"Couldn't agree more," Goran chimed in.
"Raymond," Dembe spoke up to get him back on track.
"Right, business. Well, consider this just an introductory meeting for us to exchange contact information," Reddington's smile never wavered as a Twi'lek waitress brought several trays of expensive delights along with liquor and a pitcher of blue milk.
"Care to run that by me again?" Jango's voice and body language suggested he was ready to either storm off or put the overconfident man on ice... or both.
"Don't get your wheels in a rut, I'm paying you for this meeting," Raymond nonchalantly waved off the cold gaze. "I'll have work and resources. In exchange I propose access to resources only you may have available."
"You mean beskar?" Ghes Orade asked flatly.
"Amongst other things, yes."
"And what other resources did you have in mind?" Sintas Vel leaned forward before her father-in-law could speak up.
"I'm so glad you asked," Reddington smiled. "Please, order whatever you'd like."
_____
___2 Weeks Later___
UNSC Phantom of Fall: 0 C
Courtesy of new alliances, the UNSC's fleet would soon have another crowning jewel to boast alongside the Infinity. Inside of one of the incomplete Juggernaut's largest hangars, the representatives neatly awaited their opportunities for introduction as personnel from the various factions patrolled the halls and workers scurried furiously to complete construction, occasionally sending glances their way. One thing Carter noticed about a majority of the representatives and personnel was how many were from the Republic. More specifically, clones.
"Our friends in the Republic sure took the phrase 'one-man army' to a new level," he noted to his team. "Over a million copies of the same man."
"A million copies of a very dangerous man, from what I've heard," Kat said as several more shuttles delivered more batches of representatives.
"I'm more curious about the people down at the end," Jun pointed to a squad of seven who, at first glance, looked like Spartans. However, upon closer inspection, the only trait they shared with a Spartan was their gear.
"I get the Commandos, but what's a batch of Regs like you doing here?" Carter heard a commotion by the shuttles. He observed as one of four clones clad in black and red armor sized up a squad of five clones in their own specialized armor.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Cross-eyed," one of them rose to the challenge. "Last I checked, I was the one they let use the expensive gas. How long were you, a supposedly superior soldier, stuck using ion? You ever wonder why?"
"I didn't need it."
"You were sloppy."
"That's enough, Sharp!" the clone's CO barked. "Sorry about that, Hunter."
"It's fine," Hunter shrugged. "Crosshair should know better than to pick fights with you."
"Bit of a family feud," Emile let out a breath substituting for a chuckle.
"Speaking of close-knit units, where's Six?" Jorge asked. "I haven't seen either of 'em. Have you?"
"I was only told they had another assignment," Carter responded calmly. Despite the cool air, however, he felt agitated being two down.
"Hey, so who's going to stay Six and who's going to be Seven?" Kat asked. Two officials entered the hangar and marched their way to the front of the rather small amount of soldiers. Despite having several allies, Carter observed the only ones who had sent representatives seemed to be the UNSC and the Republic.
"Thank you all for being here," the female in UNSC-Admiral garb spread her hands in greeting. Noble team and the others snapped to attention. "I am Admiral Margaret Parangosky. If it's not too much trouble, let's get introductions out of the way. Blue team?"
"Master Chief Petty Officer, Spartan John 117," the Master Chief introduced himself professionally; Spartans Linda, Fred, Kelly, Sam, and Will did the same. Red team handled their introductions in a similar manner.
"Commander Carter A259 reporting," Carter stepped forward. After Noble team had introduced themselves, Parangosky directed her focus on the curious individuals in Spartan equipment.
"Project designations, if you wouldn't mind," she ordered more than requested.
"Agent North Dakota, reporting for duty."
"Agent Wyoming, present."
"Agent Utah, reporting."
"Agent York, at your service."
"Agent Maryland, here."
"Agent Delaware, ready for action."
"Agent South Dakota, present."
"Agents?" Carter thought aloud.
"I think I caught a glance of a file regarding a defunct project involving 'Agents' named after states on Earth," Kat offered an explanation. "The man they put in charge wound up doing some pretty illegal stuff and everyone still involved with the program was branded a criminal. I'm guessing they're not here by choice." Admiral Parangosky thanked the UNSC personnel and allowed a woman in very expensive-looking attire to approach.
"Greetings, I am Senator Padme Amidala. I apologize for the absence of an official, however, we are still in the midst of selecting a Chancellor." The Senator's words were soft and sincere, but Carter could tell she didn't want to be there.
"I don't think she's too happy about being here," Carter muttered. "Think she wishes someone else got picked for this?"
"No, I don't think she likes the idea of needing soldiers," Kat assumed.
"No soldiers? What kinda perfect little Universe does she think we live in?" Emile scoffed. The first two squads of clones, Delta and Null, had already introduced themselves and Omega squad's fifth member had just begun to speak.
"Sergeant Hunter," the CO of "Clone Force 99" introduced himself.
"Crosshair," the clone that had picked a fight earlier hissed in a gruff tone as if he had something better to do.
"Wrecker," the big oaf of a man punched his fists together.
"Tech," the final member said politely.
"Did you hear any of them say their numbers?" Carter asked. "Or was that just me?"
"No, just the first three squads," Jun confirmed. "Must be some reason."
"Pandemic squad, if you would please,"the Senator motioned to the squad of "regular" clones. The CO from before stepped forward.
"Commander CC-4859, Uru reporting for duty," he kept his hands clasped behind his back.
"CT-5002, Hei," one of the two clones in regular Phase-II armor with 501st markings said.
"CT-5020, Sharp," the clone who had stood up to Crosshair snapped to attention.
"CT-3945, Rocket," a slightly bulkier clone saluted.
"CT-5654, En," a clone similar in behavior to Teach mimicked his brothers' actions.
"CT-4002, Jet," the final clone with armor similar to Hei's but with a green visor and a jetpack followed the gestures. Afterwards, the Admiral thanked them and ordered them back onto shuttles.
"You'll meet the rest of your colleagues when you reach planetside."
_____
Nibelungen (Formerly Earth 7): 0 C
"I swear it's a mad house, Emma," Sophia pinched the bridge of her nose. Her orange-clad colleague hopped aside to dodge crates and workers alike. "Has Chloe checked back in?"
"Yes," she sidestepped to avoid being run over by a Warthog. "She's finishing up with helping some hunters clear out a zone for a few of the workers. She said she'll be here in about twenty minutes."
"I'm glad to have funding again, I really am, but is all of this really necessary?" she gestured to their surroundings. "I mean, really. Military? And why here? They didn't even hire back a quarter of our hunters and we only got a third of the researchers."
"Well, it can't be all bad," Emma tried to stay cheery. "We get to work together again in a job we love and we might get a chance to meet new people." Sophia looked at the young woman, gave an appreciative grin, hugged her head, and sighed.
"I missed working with you," she admitted and took comfort in one of the only people she was familiar with. More shuttles landed nearby as another Warthog drove by and came to a halt in front of them.
"Sup, hot stuff?" the soldier in teal armor in the passenger's seat nodded at them.
"Tucker, shut up," the driver in grey armor and yellow stripes glared at him. "Sorry. Do you know where I can park this thing?"
"I know where I'm parking MY thing! Bow chika bow wow!"
"Shut up."
"Straight ahead and take a right," Sophia resisted the urge to groan. "You should see some UNSC personnel that will show you the rest of the way."
"I'll show you-"
"Tucker! Shut! Up!" the driver and the gunner in black armor shouted at him. The gunner turned to her and thanked her. Sophia frowned and shared a look with her co-worker.
"How long till Chloe gets back?"
"Eighteen minutes," she smiled timidly.
"Okay, gimme a tablet, may as well do something to stay sane," she said as Emma handed her the device. A squad of five clones departed from a shuttle and one broke off to approach them. Okay, Sophie, time to work she thought. "Hello, you must be with Pandemic squad. I'm, understaffed."
"Hei," the clone extended a hand. She felt embarrassed for being unprofessional and returned the gesture.
"Sorry, I'm Sophia and this is Emma. And you are?" she asked as she scrolled through the data.
"Hei, it's a pleasure," he greeted her again but sounded confused.
"Hi?" she looked up from the tablet, unsure what to make of it.
"Oh, no, sorry," he made a gesture as if he'd just remembered something. "That's my name; Hei." Just after he explained it, she reached the personnel files for Pandemic Squad, and sure enough...
"That makes sense," she thought aloud. "Sorry, I'm usually working in a lab. But, since they're still behind schedule with finishing the lab they said they'd have done a week ago, I'm out here."
"I understand days that don't go exactly according to plan," he remained professional and polite. "Do you know where we're supposed to report to?"
"Ah, yes," she tapped a few icons to pull up the information. "You're supposed to report to building F9. It's actually that building right there."
"Thank you ma'am," he bowed slightly and left to rejoin his squad.
"It was nice meeting you," Emma waved after him. "See, we met someone new that's really nice."
"It was a pleasant distraction from the rest of this, yes," Sophia admitted. "I missed your optimism, Emma. Please don't change."
"It's hard not to be happy when you work with dinosaurs," she beamed. Someone else in uniform approached them and informed them they'd be taking over the shift and the pair were free to move around. "Coffee?"
"Do you even have to ask?"
_____
Much like the Phantom of Fall, a fair amount of the base was still incomplete. Fortunately for Linda, the shooting range wasn't. Granted, it too still needed a bit of touching up, but it beat being stuck in her quarters. There she found two of the clones from the ship as well as one of the Freelancers, an ODST, and one of her fellow Spartans, Cal 141. It appeared they had all just arrived as most were still inspecting their rifles.
Sharp seemed to notice her enter and whistled. "Would you look at that," he nearly swooned. The others followed his gaze, but none seemed to understand, including Linda. Is he one of those- she started to think when he clarified by asking, "Where'd you get a piece of kit like that?" She looked down at her Nornfang and felt a slight smile form.
"It's a custom," she said, taking the lane next to the clone.
"Custom paint?" Crosshair muttered, which he probably thought was inaudible. "Big whoop."
"It's actually a custom-crafted SRS99-S5 AM sniper rifle," she explained, which made Crosshair jump. Even though he still had his helmet, his body language screamed "You heard that?!". Linda continued, "I hand-tuned it myself. It can fire four 14.5x114 millimeter APHE rounds per magazine in under four seconds and it can fire APFSDS rounds after a bit of recalibration."
"Dahahamn," North admired. "When did Misriah tweak the ol' SR like that? I don't remember testing anything like that."
"It was a one-off, but I'm not sure if they made any more," Linda admitted.
"Well mine is what the UNSC eventually turned into what you guys named the End of the Line and the Arrow of Time," North pat his rifle. "I put an extended magazine in it but had them custom make it to fit more than six. Then I did a no-no and tweaked with the firing mechanism until it could shoot roughly as quick as a pistol. Admittedly, it's incredibly dangerous and plays Hell with the body if you don't calibrate it right, but damn does it feel good to shoot this thing like a sidearm." Cal and the ODST were now examining their own standard, unmodified, snipers, perhaps wondering why they hadn't tweaked theirs.
"What about yours, Sharp?" Linda asked, feeling a rare moment of joy with having other marksmen to talk to that actually knew what they were talking about. Sharp pat the bottom of his barrel.
"This here's a standard-issue DC-15x Sniper Rifle," he proudly explained. "I've done a bit of modifying to it to allow it to use three other gases, in addition to ion, after a bit of recalibration. Fires four shots before I have to change out the canister. The original fired one shot every two seconds, which is stupid. Thanks to my brother, En, we were able to reverse that. Now it can fire two shots per second. And my favorite part," he attached something to the end of the barrel. "This is a custom made grenade launcher attachment, courtesy of our favorite engineer. Instead of using typical grenade ammunition, En rigged it so I can use one of my sniper canisters and it'll discharge all of the energy at once in a very pretty explosive blast."
"Now you've got me excited," North chuckled. "Can we see it?" Sharp's joy radiated off of him and he got to work moving various parts of his rifle around.
He removed his scope, aimed down the range, and said, "I'll show you more than just that. Let's get shooting."
"About time," Crosshair, who had already been burning a hole through his target's bullseyes using a scope, muttered. Linda kept her scope for the time being and set the target outside of its max range of 343 meters. The cold clone began to curse; a few of his shots had missed. Linda lined up her shot and fired. The round detonated on approach, but when the puff of smoke cleared, she didn't see any markings on the target. What in...? She scoped in again and fired only for the same thing to happen. She took out the magazine and inspected her ammunition. Everything looked fine, but she swapped it out for a new one to be on the safe side. She went for another shot when she noticed a lack of any marks on Sharp's target but he was still reloading.
"Okay, what's going on?" the ODST asked. His target, along with Cal and North's, had spattered holes, as if they'd been hit by buckshot or their shot had been melted.
Linda looked to Sharp and asked, "How are you doing that?" He looked up at her and revealed a smile after removing his helmet.
He proudly held up a, presumably empty, cartridge and said, "Expensive gas. Doesn't show a trail and is virtually silent when fired. I'll admit, it did help that your targets are further away. Gave me a hair more time to line up the shot."
"Okay, now that's pretty cool," North applauded. "You managed to intercept our shots. That's no easy feat. So how about that grenade launcher?"
"Sure, sure," he replaced his helmet and drew his DC-15 carbine, likely also modified. "You wanna see something else cool first? You said that thing's as fast as a pistol. Wanna test that?"
"Oh you are so on, my man," North chuckled and popped in a fresh magazine.
Author's Note:
We did it. We finally got here. It only took four chapters (five, if you count this one), but we finally got to the Team portion of this story called "The Team". Thank you so much for everyone who has read and voted so far. Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. Writing chapters for my other stories combined with me trying to figure out how to write in the first part didn't help much.
Just want to get a few things out of the way. First, before, probably no one, says something about Maryland and Delaware and including characters from my other stories, those two are canon agents in RvB. Second, Hei is pronounced "Hi" and Uru is pronounced with a soft "R". Probably didn't need that information, but now you have it. Do with it what you will.
Also, if anyone recognizes where some of the other (non-Star Wars) characters are from, please feel free to comment it. It would be great to know there's others that know of the existence of the media they're from. Or if you want to comment about something else in the story that's fine too. Anyway, sorry for rambling. I hope y'all enjoyed it and I'll see you in the next one.