[CRS Morning Star, Pilot Country]

Looking around the room, I could definitely agree with the name that we pilots had given our new lounge. The "Fishtank" suited it very well. The Mon Cals had done their usual amazing job of creating a masterpiece of a warship, including areas where the people aboard could escape the insanity of war. From the table where I sat with my four fellow pilots, I had a wonderful view of space out of the intricately carved transparisteel viewport. Glancing back to the bar with the fish-tank behind it, I motioned for a refill of my drink.

"Hey, you going to deal or not?" That was Lonewolf, one of my fellow Blue Squadron pilots. He and I were had finally found a couple of friends from our old squadron to play sabaac with us. Well, we had at least found two who were willing to risk the Captain's wrath.

"I'm coming, let me just finish getting a refill." Turning back to the table I picked up the deck of cards and started dealing. "Alright Vape, explain to me again how we are going to explain this to the Captain."

The short, exquisite pilot grinned back at me, "Simple, we just admit that we were playing sabaac, when he asks us if we were gambling, we say ‘No, Sir. We're not gambling, we're just keeping score with the game computer.' Which will be mostly true, except for the fact that Yale here has sliced the computer to transfer the credits between our accounts automatically."

"And this will work?" I asked as I finished dealing the cards.

Yale cut in as he picked up his cards, "Hey, if I remember correctly you two were searching aimlessly for somebody to play with. And your little scheme if it can be called that was certainly far worse than ours. Besides, nobody can slice my patches." Lonewolf stared at him significantly. Yale shrugged, "Well usually."

I sighed, "Well either way, we're here to play, not to talk." Taking a sip of my refreshed drink, I glanced at my hand, ran the numbers, and calmly laid it down on the table, "Alright, antes are in, the cards are dealt, Vape it's your bet."

"I'm in with twenty creds," said the energetic pilot with amazing artistic ability.

I smiled at her and then turned to the most veteran pilot at the table, "What about you Yale?"

"I'll match her twenty," he said as he threw in a matching number of chips.

Lonewolf tossed in double the amount of credits Yale did, "I see Yale's twenty and I raise him twenty. Now, what about you wolf-boy?"

"Wolf-boy? Just remember that I'm not the only one that title belongs to. I'll see your forty and..."

I was about to raise Lonewolf another twenty when the ship's loud speaker came on, "Flight Officer Allen report to Blue Squadron HQ, repeat Flight Officer Allen report to Blue Squadron HQ."

Looking down at my hand, I groaned, "Alright, gotta hurry, the chief wants to see me. Lay down what you've got, winner takes all."

Vape sighed and laid down her cards, "All I got is eighteen."

Yale laughed, "That's better than I got, I've got an eleven."

Vape looked at him questioningly, "Why didn't you fold?"

"I was hoping for a good flux, and besides what is the fun in folding the first hand?"

I nodded and looked at Lonewolf, "Well, what have you got?"

Lonewolf grinned, "The Idiot's Array." He threw his cards down triumphantly and began collecting the pot.

"Not so fast buddy, I've got pure sabaac!"

Lonewolf groaned, but before I could grab the pot, the loud speaker went off again, "Flight Officer Allen report to Blue Squadron HQ immediately, that's an order!"

"Shavit! All right guys, take your money back. Yale, make sure all of mine gets back into my account please. Thanks." And without another word I sprinted off to Dobber's office racking my brain trying to think if I was in trouble for something besides gambling while the ship was on alert status. Not thinking of anything a long the way, I knocked uncertainly on my CO's door.

A brusque "Enter!" was all I got before going into Dobber's office. Marching briskly into the office I was greeted by Captain Dave Ru'kaart, the ship's captain and Lt. Colonel Dobson, my CO. I almost felt like running, with Captain Ru'kaart there, I was sure we had been caught or that I was going to be assigned to some crack-brained scheme that the brass thought was absolutely brilliant.

I recovered myself quickly and stood at rigid attention, throwing a sharp salute, "Sir, Flight Officer Hans Allen reporting as ordered, Sir!"

Dobber grinned, "Relax Allen, you aren't in trouble. Captain Ru'kaart just has a mission for you."

Groaning inwardly, I turned and looked at the captain, "And what would that be, sir?"

The Captain began without preamble, "High Command has ordered all Mon Cal cruisers like the Morning Star to send at least five pilots and a full battalion to Togoria. These units are going to form a new branch in the New Republic military. They are going to call the unit the New Republic Marine Corps. As the name implies, this unit will be involved in ship-board actions, but their primary role will be the initial assault of a planet to form a beach-head so that the line battalions will be able to land under less arduous fire from the enemy."

I was starting to get the picture, but I still didn't know why they wanted me, I'm a combat pilot not a SAR pilot. SAR pilots were certainly better suited to the kind of work the captain was suggesting. I said as much.

Captain Ru'kaart chuckled, "They certainly are, but we aren't sending the minimum of five pilots, we're sending you along as the sixth."

Okay, this was starting to make a little more sense, "I think I'm beginning to understand sir, but could you flesh it out a little more."

"It's simple Flight Officer, we are sending you because you already have ground combat training. Which is one of the main reasons we are choosing you for this assignment, you see we aren't just going to use the Marines solely for creating beachheads, but for other less conspicuous mission that Delta Team from the Regis cannot handle alone. With you along as part of a squad or platoon, they will have an invaluable asset if things should go wrong, they will have a out."

"But sir, I'm a pilot. I mean I enjoyed being a ground-pounder, but I really would rather not leave my squad."

The Captain chuckled, "You won't have to son. You are still going to be in Blue Squadron. But when the opportunity arises, I want to be able to have a fighter pilot in one of the Marine platoons, just in case they need some improvised fighter support."

Dobber broke in at that moment, "You understand of course, that you will be undergoing extreme training, way beyond anything the Army or Starfighter Command puts their people through. This will not be easy and you will be putting yourself in situations far more deadly than what we pilots normally do. This is completely voluntary."

"I understand boss, and I accept. I've been to long away from any ground ops, it's about time I should reacquaint myself with it."

"Good," the captain stood and shook my hand; "It will be interesting to see how this little experiment will go." He handed me a datacard; "These are your new orders and will give you more detailed information on the Marines and what you will be doing once you arrive at Togoria. That is all Flight Officer Allen, you are dismissed. Oh, and don't forget your droid."

I saluted them both smartly, about faced, and marched out the room. Once the door swished closed behind me, I ran for the billet I shared with Arc. As soon as I entered my room, Tourniquet, my black and silver-trimmed droid, rolled up to beeping indignantly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I meant to get here sooner, but the captain has a mission for us. We're going to be Marines." Tourniquet beeped at me questioningly. "I'm not quite sure, let's find out."

I quickly pulled the datacard out of my flight suit pocket and plugged it into his entry port. He immediately began loading and projecting it's contents onto the small caf-table Arc and I shared. After flashing through all the security pages he got to the source of the information. As it turned out, the datacard didn't hold much more information about the Marines than what the captain had already told me. "Tourney, find when we have to leave." He quickly searched through the datacard's contents and brought up a page with a list of shuttle times. "Tonight! We're leaving tonight?" Tourniquet flashed a question onto the screen. "Well yes, if we leave tonight we'll be able to start training sooner, but still it is short notice. All right, Tourney start making sure all our reports are in, I don't want Dobber bustin' my chops because I left things undone. I'll start packing."

Moving quickly, we both moved to get our tasks done. Of course Tourney was finished with all the data pushing long before I was able to pack what few things I would need into the large shapeless bag that all military men and women are given for traveling during a posting. Looking at the chrono on my desk I noticed that we still had about thirty minutes before we had to ship out at 2200 hours. I had just enough time to record a message to Meghan, my best friend since the Underlost Pirates hunt. "Tourney, crank up your holorecorder and start the encrypting for a message to the Lobo's hyper-transceiver."

After finishing the message to Meghan, Tourney and I double-timed it to the shuttles where the five SAR pilots and Alpha Battalion were waiting to board. Taking a seat next to the SAR pilots, Tourniquet and I joined in the time honored military tradition of hurry up and wait. Thankfully, the brass decided that they weren't going to make us wait too long and got us boarded an hour later.

Once we were boarded and seated, Tourney beeped at me questioningly and flashed a message on his holoprojector. "I missed something on the datacard? Why didn't you tell me?" He whistled at me angrily. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have cut you off back at the room." I said shaking my head, sometimes Tourney got up-set over the smallest offense, and of course now that I think back it was my fault, "Please show me what I missed." Emitting a droid's version of a grumble Tourney projected one of the most inspiring insignia I had ever seen. There in the air before me was an ancient bird of prey with its wings outspread, its talons gripping a galaxy and in its beak was a banner made of stars that read SEMPER FIDELIS.