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"Hey Major, are we getting a piece of this action?"
Major Rhur Vhetta does not slam her head into her desk, as much as she wants to. She knows from experience that Tanno Vik will not go away from something like putting herself in a coma. Or a kolto tank. The Weequay is like a leech, and thanks to General Garza, he's attached himself to her.
"What are you even talking about, Vik?" she asks, not really wanting to know the answer. But if she doesn't know, it will end so badly for her. That's how Vik operates. You can't stop him from doing shit that should get him arrested, all you can do is damage control.
"I bought this off one of the nobodies, sir," Vik says, tossing her a datachip. "Said it was the funniest thing she'd seen in years. So I watched it, and then came to you."
"Vik, they're soldiers, not nobodies," she says, "or do you want to go back to scrubbing the carbon scoring off of Forex?"
"Fine, I bought it off a soldier, and if you're not getting a cut, you deserve one," Vik says. "Gimme like an afternoon and promise you won't let me rot in the brig, and I'll get you what you're owed."
"Vik, we're special forces, not a gang," she says for what feels like the thousandth time. "What's even on this?"
"Play it and find out," the man says. "Then come find me. My finder's fee is reasonable."
She slides the chip into a projector as Vik wanders off to commit petty crimes. She's convinced that Garza had them recruit Vik to punish her. Every time she has something that will get him out of Havoc, one of Garza's cronies steps in. Hopefully that's over now that the kriffing Barsen'thor has brought her boss up on charges. She's already running some tihaar through the still that everyone pretends they don't know about for the eventual celebration.
Whatever, she could use a distraction. The mess from the Gilded Descent is causing way too much flimsiwork, and she's still not sure how many lies she's going to have to tell to make it make any kind of sense to Commander Rans. The datachip has a video file, and she prays that it isn't porn again. If she'd known she was going to get kriffing famous, she never would have gotten the tattoos on her face. Most of the actresses don't even look like her.
Five seconds in, she knows that this is going to be a nightmare. It's bodycam footage that's been edited to remove any identifying information, but there are only so many cams it could be from. She doesn't remember making that face when the Hero of Kriffing Tyhon hugged a Sith in front of everyone, but it's likely enough. She watches the whole file, and decides that it's 17:00 somewhere, and pulls out her emergency whiskey. Two shots later and she calls Dorne.
Dorne knows the regs, she'll know what to do about this. For all she knows, it isn't even classified. She does know that it's going to be her responsibility to shut it down.
"No, seriously, the Sith chick invited two Jedi to her wedding!"
"What?"
"Yeah, and Anders did some digging. Turns out that Sith weddings are kriffing out there!"
Major Vhetta can feel the headache forming. Command wants her to track down all of the copies of the files that made it out there, and she already knows it's a lost cause.
"What, like does the wife eat the husband or something?" one of the soldiers asks. He sounds serious.
"Nah, according to Anders, if you go to a Sith wedding, you pretty much sign up to get fucked by a bunch of Sith. Like, they're some kind of super-orgy!" says the first guy.
"I heard that the Sith think it's good luck to fuck a Jedi the night before they get married," says a completely different soldier. "Like, it makes the dark side bless your wedding or something."
"Attention!" shouts Dorne, who is just as done with this nonsense as she is. "Hand over the contraband, and tell us where you acquired it."
"Sir!" the soldiers shout, snapping to attention and saluting. At least this batch isn't trying to pretend they don't know what she and Dorne are looking for. They sheepishly hand over a chip.
"Where'd you get it?" she asks. They don't answer. "Look, I get it, but the brass doesn't care, we just want to stop whoever's passing this stuff out."
That's a lie. The brass wants to nail whoever's doing this to the wall, but that is way more work than she's willing to put into this. She figures if she can shut it down, that'll be good enough, and they can get back to the important shit. You know, winning the war and all that.
"Sorry, sir," says one of the enlisted troopers. "We found this, so we can't help you with that."
She stares at the trooper. Her stare has broken hard men, and that was before she was Special Forces. The guy looks embarrassed, but he also stays quiet.
"So. You just found a datachip, put it in your pad, and played it?" she asks, one eyebrow raised. "Careful how you answer, because you're either going back through data security training, or you're going to the brig. I have had a very long couple of days, soldier."
"We got it from Specialist Eglin, sir," says another soldier. "He was telling us about the two Sith diplomats, and we may have called him a liar…"
That is unfortunately not helpful. They've already cleared Eglin of being the original distributor. He's currently waiting for the next available shuttle to Ord Mantell, where he's going to spend a very long time taking classes about keeping his idiot mouth shut.
"And this is the only copy, right?" she asks. "Because if I find out that you kept one, I will be very upset."
"It is, sir," says one of them. "If you want, I'll flush the pad's memory while you watch."
"Yeah, sure," she says. "Also, maybe don't speculate about Sith wedding traditions so loud, okay? The Jedi are nervous enough right now, and they mostly think that us grunts are a bunch of sex crazed morons. They hear you talking about super-orgys, they're gonna get even twitchier."
"Besides, everything you described about a Sith wedding ceremony is completely wrong," Dorne says. "There are no orgies, and certainly no coitus with Jedi. Sith ceremonies are very similar to Republic ones. The only real difference is that Sith tend to use electrical scarring rather than jewelry to indicate their commitment."
They walk away, and she's a professional, and she's on duty, so she doesn't go for her flask. Instead, she glances at Dorne. A lot of people think that Elara Dorne is unreadable, but they've just never bothered to get to know her.
"So, what were you lying about, Dorne?" she asks once they're away from the soldiers.
"Sir?"
"Dorne, we've been working together since I was a Lieutenant," she says.
"It never ceases to amaze me how good you are at seeming unintelligent, sir," Dorne says. "It shouldn't work on me, and yet, it does. Yes, I may have mislead those enlisted men, but you're right about the Jedi, so I think it's acceptable under the circumstances."
"I figured as much," she says. "And don't think I didn't notice you didn't answer my question."
"Ah, well. Certain traditional Sith rites do involve…group activities," Dorne admits.
"Of course they do," she says. "How could they not? Why do we always get the lost causes, Dorne?"
"Because you keep winning, sir."
The rest of the day goes more or less exactly like that. She confiscates a shitload of datachips, Dorne quashes a lot of generally terrible rumors about what happens at Sith weddings, and Yuun keeps insisting that he'll figure out who's bodycam got sliced 'real soon now'. At least this time, she doesn't have to confiscate any posters from Tantalizing Liaisons. She and Kadah actually own a copy of that, which just makes it extra embarrassing. She has to admit, though, that Vae Carrow looks really hot with her tattoos…
It's not that she wants to think about porn on duty, but it's infinitely better than trying to deal with the shit the soldiers around her are coming up with.
"Dorne, can you open up my skull and pour bleach on my brain?" she asks while they track down their latest lead.
"It is not medically recommended, sir," Dorne says. "And I doubt it will erase the memory of Sergeant Kayliss saying the phrase 'Sith Lord gangbang'."
"What's that about a gangbang?" asks the last voice she wants to hear right now. She turns and looks at the Hero of Tython herself.
"Absolutely nothing, Master Jedi," she says. Davshi Mikke is smiling, at least.
"Oh, good," the Jedi says. "Because things are getting really weird here. I'm pretty sure about half of the troops think I'm breaking the code with Lord Kallig."
"We're working on it," she says. "Dorne is convincing people that Sith weddings aren't as horny as they think they are."
"Aren't they?" Davshi asks Dorne. "Because according to 'Sul, the reception is going to be clothing optional."
Kriffing Jedi. Knight Mikke should know better than to say shit like that, especially considering that there are at least three soldiers that can hear them talking. All of that hard work, kriffing wasted. Can this day get any worse?
"But the orgy isn't required," Davshi adds. "They're going to set up a space for people who aren't interested in that part."
"Can I help you with something, Master Jedi?" she asks instead of slamming her head into the wall. It won't help.
"I heard that you were tracking down who was selling the footage from the other day," the Jedi says. "I thought I'd tell you that I got mine from Lieutenant Novix. She didn't even charge me!"
"Dhana Novix?" Dorne asks.
"I think so? The one I talked to was a Togruta with a scar across her chin."
"Thank you, Master Jedi," Dorne says. "That's very helpful. May I have your copy of the datachip? Command insists that all illicit copies be collected and destroyed."
"Sure, but I already uploaded it to Teeseven's memory core," the Jedi says.
"You're gonna need to delete that," she says, somehow knowing that Knight Mikke isn't ever going to do it.
"Oh, no. That's my wedding present for 'Sul," the woman says, smiling. "She'll love it. The looks on everyone's faces when I hugged her sister are priceless."
"Knight Mikke, possession of that file is a crime under Republic Military code…" Dorne says.
"Well, it's a good thing I'm not a soldier," the woman responds.
"Yeah, this conversation isn't going anywhere," Rhur says. "Look, Master Jedi, I honestly do not care one way or another. This whole assignment is a banthashit waste of my time, and I'm pretty sure you think so too, so unless you've got anything else to say, let's just call it here, yeah?"
The Mirialan woman smiles at her, and even though she and Kadah have been together for two years now, she suddenly gets why so many soldiers are willing to follow her. She's kind, and smart, and has muscle tone for days. That, and she's brutal in a fight. Any soldier even a little attracted to women has a mild crush on her.
"I wanted to thank you, Major," Davshi says. "You didn't have to do what you did. That took real courage."
"You're welcome," she says. "All I did was follow my gut."
"You have a very brave gut, Major Vhetta," Davshi says. "It would have been easy to ignore what was happening, but you didn't. So thank you, and may the force be with you."
Davshi Mikke walks off, still smiling. The smile feels more real than it has for a while. She has no idea what the Jedi do to their people, but every one of them she's worked with has either been an emotionless wreck or one bad decision away from being a war criminal. It's good to see at least one of them working through their shit. She turns to Dorne.
"Who the fuck is Lieutenant Novix?" she asks.
Major Rhur Vhetta is not a peaceful woman. She is a Mandalorian, born and bred. She and her clan fought on the wrong side of the Sacking of Coruscant, right up until Malgus gave the order to kill Jedi younglings. She made her first sentient kill that day, an Imperial trooper who was going to execute a child. She's used to violence, and she's very, very good at it.
Mandalorians don't really have gods, but if they did, she's pretty sure she'd be praying to them to have violence be the answer here.
"Hey, Major!" Vik says as she storms into the rec room he's playing sabacc in. "Reconsidered my offer?"
She grabs him by the ponytail and shoves his head onto the table. The other players know when to get out of the way, and they all leave, not bothering to pack up the card or the credit chips spread across the table.
"I have put up with your shit for too long, Vik," she says. "You have exactly one chance to walk away from this."
"Don't know what you're talking about, sir," Vik says.
"Specialist Tanno Vik, you are under arrest for violating Republic Military Code 108. Specifically, for the wrongful disposition of military property," she says. "And before you start lying to me, Lieutenant Novix gave us a full statement about how you bribed her to copy files off the servers. The MPs are with her right now getting the names of everyone you had selling for you."
"If you're arresting me, I want my solicitor, sir," Vik says.
"Yeah, and I want two weeks leave," she says. "Looks like we're both unhappy. You fucked up, Vik. Corellia is still classed as a combat zone, so all those rights you like to talk about? They only apply if I want them to. And I really, really don't want them to."
"What are you talking about?" Vik says, a hint of panic in his voice. She's always played close to the rules, so she knows he thought he could wiggle out of this.
"You've got no right to remain silent, Vik. No right to a speedy trial," she explains. "High command will get around to prosecuting you when we have time. Hope you like prison camps."
"I didn't hurt anything, sir!" Vik says. "Fuck, even if I did do what you think I did, other people were doing it already!"
"You wasted a shitload of my time, Specialist," she says. "Maybe once you get a trial they'll let you off easy. Oh, wait. This isn't your first offense, is it?"
"Havoc needs me," Vik says, changing tactics. "I'm the best demo guy the army has, and you know it."
"No, Vik. You were the best demo guy we had. But you fucked up, so that's not true anymore," she says. "I've been waiting for this, and I've already got your replacement lined up. You know what I like about him?"
"Fuck you, sir."
"I like that he's not some two bit crook," she says. "I told you when you got here that I wouldn't put up with your shit. Have a nice five to ten years hard labor."
The MPs drag Tanno Vik out, and she smiles. Getting rid of that asshole makes all of the headaches she's developed today worth it.
"How long have you been waiting for him to screw up?" Jorgan asks.
"Since before we recruited him," she says. "Our new explosives expert is meeting us at Carrick. Grab the squad, we're hitting the cantina. We're leaving Corellia tomorrow, and we never have to deal with Tanno Vik again, it's time to celebrate."