[font=Courier New]Infiltration Team Alpha[/font]
<ST1:p<ST1:p[font=Courier New]Brandenburg[/font][font=Courier New] City[/font][font=Courier New], Genon[/font]
[font=Courier New]Economic District[/font]
[font=Courier New]0850 hours, a few days after arrival[/font]

[font=Palatino][font=Times New Roman]There was one thing that really bothered the commandos about the local stock exchange: it kept the most confusing of hours, compared to everything else. In fact, it was easily the laziest part of the entire city, when one checked when it opened for work and when it closed for the day. Nine to four… How they managed to get anything substantial done was beyond the soldiers preparing to infiltrate it, but the damn thing managed to make the morning news every time.[/font][/font]

[font=Palatino][font=Times New Roman]T[/font][/font][font=Palatino][font=Times New Roman]hat was what had settled it for them. The importance of the stock market in the local economy would be what brought about the thing’s undoing, and the notoriety it garnered would make everyone—everyone—notice that downfall.[/font][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][font=Palatino]Two’s company; three’s a crowd,[/font][font=Palatino] Conrad reminded himself, looking over the rest of his team with a grim expression on his face. One of three… Three people who would definitely not look familiar to anyone at all. If anything, this was going to be an interesting, though potentially nightmarish operation, and they could easily wind up on the wrong side of local law enforcement for it. All they had to do, though, was get into one of the server rooms, and they could cause enough havoc to bring the entire market to a crash within a few hours. It seemed so simple…[/font][/font]

[font=Palatino][font=Times New Roman]Sighing to himself, Conrad reminded himself of who he was working with for this little mission: Tianna was, frankly, loud enough to wake the dead—and had allegedly come close on one occasion, though no proof had been found to back that claim; Wil could at least get them in without causing a ruckus, but had almost no skill with a computer terminal outside of the absolute basics. The day he had in store…[/font][/font]

[font=Palatino][font=Times New Roman]…Was not one he relished.[/font][/font]

[font=Palatino][font=Times New Roman]A[/font][/font][font=Palatino][font=Times New Roman]s the team pulled up near the stock exchange building, the captain could feel his stomach tighten up into twisted knots; if anything, he expected that they would get noticed before they got to the front door, called out for the unrecognizable people they were, and either asked to leave or arrested for something like trespassing. It wouldn’t have surprised him if it had happened like that, really. Fortunately, they at least made it in without anyone bothering to talk to them…even though the glances were worrisome to the captain.[/font][/font]

[font=Palatino][font=Times New Roman]At length, they reached what looked like the security station; for a financial institution’s security desk, it sure didn’t look…secure, at any rate. Smiling, Conrad focused his attention on the woman at the desk, trying his best to seem pleasant and sociable. “Good morning,” he said calmly. “I was hoping you could help me with something; my associates and I were assigned to check on the servers here, and we’re…well, we’re new to this facility.”[/font][/font]

[font=Courier New]Infiltration Team Beta[/font]
<ST1:p<ST1:p[font=Courier New]Brandenburg[/font][font=Courier New] City[/font][font=Courier New], Genon[/font]
[font=Courier New]Civilian District[/font]
[font=Courier New]0852 hours, the same day[/font]

[font=Palatino][font=Times New Roman]Jarred did not like his temporary uniform. In fact, he would have gladly just gone marching in with his Imperial military clothing on, showing off every last Imperial aspect of the outfit, if only to escape having to wear what he had on now. Sure, there may have been something to be said for a doctor’s scrubs, but there was no reason in Jarred’s mind that he should have been wearing them, at all. Standard civilian clothing would have done just as well for him, and wouldn’t have been so damned annoying and uncomfortable.[/font][/font]

[font=Palatino][font=Times New Roman]But of course, the team’s medic had insisted. That’s what pissed him off about it. She just had to be right about the entire affair; it was, after all, going to involve a hospital, so she had to be right by default on what went on within, even if she’d never been inside a formal hospital since being accepted into the military in the first place. It was just one of those days, now, where Jarred seriously wished he could just break off from the squadron for a few hours, do as he wanted without regard to the law, and come back as though nothing had happened.[/font][/font]

[font=Palatino][font=Times New Roman]What they were going to do to this place would wind up achieving just that, effectively. There was something about bacta…it could heal even the most painful of injuries, assuming the patient wasn’t allergic to the stuff. Of course, if it was tainted, it could just as easily kill within seconds. That was what would happen soon, if Jarred and his small team had any say about it. Of course, there was one problem: the two Lieutenants weren’t geared towards working together, and he had to deal with that. It was the only way he could logically get this mission done, even if it wasn’t the most efficient or beneficial for him. He could only imagine <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:City w:st="on">Tyler</st1:City> was feeling inside, just being within a few feet of Ruby and not separated by a starfighter’s hull plating. It must have been maddening.[/font][/font]

[font=Palatino][font=Times New Roman]The fact that they had their false identification cards and fake uniforms ready so quickly was just a stroke of good planning; if they couldn’t execute it well, all the planning would mean nothing. Hopefully, the two of them would work together properly long enough that he wouldn’t have to regret this temporary arrangement…much like he already was.[/font][/font]

[font=Times New Roman][font=Palatino]W[/font][font=Palatino]ith that out of his mind, the three of them entered the hospital, barely offering a wave to the receptionist at the front desk. At least, doing that, they weren’t likely to get looked at as unusual; being sociable counted for something, however minimal it was. Still, he hated every second of it.[/font][/font]

[IMG]http://farm1.static.flickr.com/53/173320046_a758ef1f43.jpg?v=0[/IMG]

Brandenburg.

Elegant civilization flourishing among the savage expanse of Genon's vast jungles. The Neo-classical buildings of the government and the more modernly vogue residences built by Stellar Enterprises had slowly pushed back the jungle, claiming the land for man and alien alike. It was an indomitable process that still continued as the Confederation flourished; more buildings, less jungle. With the buildings came new people. With people, new ideas, new money, and new problems.

"Sir no sir," replied the Kashan marine, "there's nothing unusual, for the most part. Some people arrived from Talcorra yesterday. One of them got into a brawl at the Red Moon..."

"And?" demanded Hans.

"...he was subdued. The local constabulary got him before our first men arrived."

Hans smiled. "Now that is an improvement. For once, the police are keeping up with the expansion. If this trend continues, soldier, we might be able to get you out of frakking babysitting duty to do your real job."

The armored man mutedly nodded.

Trutzig marched over to his office desk, "You can pass word throughout the regiment, we'll probably be deployed out of Brandenburg soon."

"Where to, sir?"

"The Swiftguard, the newest of Revanche battleships. It's probably one of the safest deployments possible. It's not like a pirate ship could put a dent into that thing. Heck, there's only a dozen or so Imp ships that could take her on..."

Brandenburg Stock Exchange

“Good morning,” he said calmly. “I was hoping you could help me with something; my associates and I were assigned to check on the servers here, and we’re…well, we’re new to this facility.”

The clerk leaned back into his chair. Typical. One of the servers has been having problems again. But these aren't the usual guys...wait a minute...the usual guys have already signed in. But if there's two server errors...to hell...we're going to hell if they don't fix that one.

"You're lucky. There's only one thing I know about the computers, and that's where they are. Jim, could you cover for me while I take these guys to the auxiliary servers? Thanks. Right this way, gentlepeople."

Civilian Hospital, Brandenburg

"I see...well, welcome to Springs Hospital," smiled the receptionist, "I'll have an orderly show you to the hospital's director. I'm sure he knows of where you're suppose to be..."

[font=Courier New]Infiltration Team Alpha[/font]
[font=Courier New]Brandenburg City, Genon[/font]
[font=Courier New]Economic District[/font]
[font=Courier New]0851 hours[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]There was at least some measure of efficiency within the person working the front desk at the stock exchange; he may not have known much, but he at least had some work ethic to make up for it. That, in Conrad’s estimation, made him almost worth dealing with. Then again…he’d probably end up getting the poor kid fired from this job, and black-listed on any other attempt he made at getting gainful employment, but such were the costs of war.[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]What else, then, was the cost of war? Who suffered, because men and women of hardened spirit fought for them? Surely, the soldiers themselves suffered, through machinations physical and psychological, but did they truly suffer in comparison to those who didn’t fight? Who lost families to war? Who lost everything they had, simply because there was nothing left when the dust had settled?[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]Fortunately, this specific fight would not involve bloodshed; instead, they were there simply to cause internal havoc, and that was all they would cause. The fact that they had the chance to do that inside a place of some prominence was just icing on the cake. Calmly, Conrad and his two squad-mates followed the exchange’s receptionist down the halls towards the room for the second server, silently surprised at the fact that they were, as far as any of them could tell, completely alone with the young man. This had a benefit in and of itself: if there was nobody else to deal with them, they could do their work and get out relatively quickly. And wouldn’t it be nice, he thought, to get done before the boss…[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]It was most likely wishful thinking, given the variables involved in delivering a computer virus…especially one that had to hide in order to survive. Still, hoping and wishful thinking were far better than nothing at all.[/font]

[font=Courier New]Infiltration Team Beta[/font]
<ST1:p<ST1:p[font=Courier New]Brandenburg [/font][font=Courier New]City[/font][font=Courier New], Genon[/font]
[font=Courier New]Civilian District[/font]
[font=Courier New]0853 hours[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]The orderly was down at the lobby relatively quickly, and the efficiency with which he replied to their unspoken request was impressive, to say the absolute least about it. “Bacta storage,” Jarred said calmly, instructing the young man of their desired destination. The guide asked no questions of the order as he received it, and instead led them quietly on their way.[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]Sighing to himself, Jarred came to the realization, quite quickly, that they were at the one stage of the operation where they would have to split the team even further. Without even bothering to mention her by name—largely out of a concern that their false names hadn’t yet been inserted into the hospital—he pulled Ruby close, whispering a new set of instructions very calmly into he ear. “Why don’t you do me a favor, and find someone you can give some medical attention to?”[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]Not surprisingly, Ruby nodded and went to find the nearest break room. She could easily just pass off that she was new to the place, and needed help finding something to do…surely, the others wouldn’t be all that bad. <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:City w:st="on">Tyler</st1:City> and Jarred, however, continued following on their walk to the bacta storage containers. Hopefully, this orderly wasn’t so damn new as to get them lost.[/font]

Brandenburg Stock Exchange

It is said that a cheap ruler will quickly be a dead ruler. And cheap protection is just one step above none at all. Cheap and shoddy methods were dispised by military men as a dardinal sin. But here in the realm of economics, being "cost-effective" was a virtue. The private owners of the Brandenburg Stock Exchange did have security in holocams and routine patrols by low-grade security droids such as surplus Imperial Mark IV Sentry Droids. Nothing to stop an overt attack, but more than to provide documentation of the attack or alert its owners of "fishy" business on the exchange's bustling floor. But perhaps the greatest asset of the security was its ability to alert the massive COnfederation forces in the surrounding area. It was highly unlikely that any team would be able to outgun the thirty-two Paladins stationed across the street at the local police precint. As well, the hangars of Victory Base always had a squadron of Deathsabers on standby alert, making a quick extraction nearly suicidial. No, the only way to defeat the Stock Exchange would be subtlety. Subtlety that TNO special forces probably possessed.

As the young desk clerk led the men into the server room, holocams recorded their every movement, copying it into a massive storage mainframe located offsite near the capitol. The desk clerk unlocked the door, ushered the Imperial men, and abruptly left to get back on station.

Brandenburg Hospital

Bacta Storage? Must be a surprise expection. Let's see...the only ones that haven't been checked up on recently has been the basement auxiliary lot...C-14? C-14. The orderly shook his head, leading the two through a maze of hallways and stairs to a turbolift. He inserted his ID card in, and the lift started up. The doors opened with a ping, and the men were wisked inside. The orderly tapped another button.

"You guys are here all the time I see. You're hear to check out C-14, right?"

[font=Courier New]Infiltration Team Alpha[/font]
<ST1:p<ST1:p[font=Courier New]Brandenburg [/font][font=Courier New]City[/font][font=Courier New], Genon[/font]
[font=Courier New]Economic District[/font]
[font=Courier New]0855 hours[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]The door closed behind the three commandos with a soft thud, and they immediately took up their planned formations. Conveniently for them, the camera watching the room was right where they’d been expecting it to be, and their positions blocked it from reading into what they were doing at the server terminal. The only thing that it would see was something akin to a simple flash drive being pulled out of Tianna’s pocket before it was connected to the server. Whatever she was typing was lost, as the camera had to manage to look straight through Conrad to see it.[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]Her fingers flied so fast, neither Conrad nor Wil could manage to make out even so much as a word of what she was typing…if she was even typing anything that passed for common words. The small memory device she’d connected to the computer was, for all intents and purposes, a simple memory stick; with the right commands, the virus it had been infected with would leak into the system, and lay in wait. Updates would stream in from various growing and established companies, large and small, day in and day out as <ST1:pBrandenburg</ST1:p City was fleshed out more and more. When the malignant code was triggered, it would then strike, activating inside each and every one of these companies, destroying as much information as possible…[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]…As well as, if possible, the entirety of the local economy.[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype][font=Courier New]Infiltration Team Beta[/font][/font]
[font=Palatino Linotype][font=Courier New][/font]<ST1:p[font=Courier New]Brandenburg[/font]</ST1:p[font=Courier New] City[/font][font=Courier New], Genon[/font][/font]
[font=Palatino Linotype][font=Courier New][/font][font=Courier New]Civilian District[/font][/font]
[font=Palatino Linotype][font=Courier New][/font][font=Courier New]0854 hours[/font][/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype][font=Palatino Linotype]Jarred smiled, just a little, as if trying to pass on an impression of satisfaction. It was fake, of course, but it at least had some measure of deceptiveness to it. “Yes,” he said calmly, pulling the memory up in his mind. They’d sent Ruby in a few times over the past couple of days, each time under a different guise, to try and find where all the lots were for the bacta. She’d managed to compile a list of all of their reference names, and how frequently they were inspected. C-14 hadn’t been too high on that list, if he recalled, but it was at least something. The fact that nobody really checked it out all that often made it all the better for him, since he could deposit what he had to, and nobody else would be down there for a while.[/font][/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype][font=Palatino Linotype]…Well, maybe ‘while’ was a slight exaggeration. Sure, someone else would check the stuff out before it was used, but he honestly couldn’t even so much as fathom a guess as to when that was going to be, and he didn’t really care, either. The toxin was designed to work with the bacta, in a sense, and remain completely unseen. It would have an adverse effect once the stuff was used, true, but that would just have to wait in order to be seen.[/font][/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype][font=Palatino Linotype]“We’ll be fine now,” Jarred heard <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:City w:st="on"><ST1:pTyler</st1:City> state, his voice equally calm and composed. With that, it was assumed that the orderly would take the hint and make his way out of the lot, leaving the two inspectors to do their job in private.[/font][/font]

A computer and its software, to a degree, is a complicated thing. Thousands, sometimes millions, of tiny switches transformed simple electrical currents into binary, and from binary, to become interpreted into the universal language of mathematics, most often done through Power Series. From there, the mathematical data would be interpreted by any number of programs, all of which their own protocols and data types. The computer programs would then use a variety of functions and interpret the inputted data and make it…somewhat understandable to the user. A computer is a complicated thing.

But what happens when a computer links up to other computers to make a network? An already complicated subject becomes a twisty, tangling web of intricacies to the unlearned. Data transfer between units has to be considered, both in efficiently and securely. Computers within a network must adopt a systematic method of reading data, of understanding programs. If the data flow is to be kept both secure and flawless, a full-time staff of trained technicians would have their hands full with monitoring the large amount of transactions that took place within the Brandenburg Stock Exchange. Several staffs of workers could somewhat alleviate the mess, but rapidity of communications would have made their job difficult. No, few living peoples would be able to keep up with the flow, but machines certainly could.

Enter the Apollo Artificial Intelligence System; envisioned by the Kashan military as the next wave of the information warfare technology; powered by positronic processors, programmed by fruits of dozens of technicians over the course of decades. Designed to creatively hack into computer systems and networks for espionage and sabotage, and to protect those networks to which it was hosted. A potent tool, a closely guarded tool, an unacknowledged tool. But one that secretly kept watch over all of the entirety of the Confederation Information Infrastructure, whether it be the shipboard computers of the Revanche, or those of the hundreds of small, local government agencies across the Confederation. If the system was used for governmental work, or was important to a local government, it would be being watched.

Accepting data transfer…running standard diagnostics of data…scanning…invalid code…code is not according to the standards established by the Genon Stock Exchange computer administrator…searching for recent software updates authorized by the Authority…0 results…Quarantine protocols are in effect…locking down rogue program…program is neutralized…proceeding to evaluate programs code for possible repair…program is a virus…flagging program as hostile…notifying authorities…

Three Days later…

Victory Base, Brandenburg

“What do you mean?” frowned Trutzig, rising from his chair, “a computer virus pops up, and you’re wanting me to send in the calvalry? Guns don’t fix things like this, Mr. Essex.”

“No,” acknowledged the businessmen, “they do not. But guns can guard doors. Here is an order from the Marble Mansion, dictating that the Stock Exchange receives an emergency armed guard for this crisis.”

Trutzig folded his hands. “What exactly has happened from this virus?”

Essex sighed. “Well…it appears to have tangled with the stock records of a couple of local companies…some government security program caught it before it could do much software damage, and we’re restoring the correct data from other hubs and reserve data backups kept offsite. But, it has eroded some investor’s confidence…but we’ve kept it quiet…so most people don’t know exactly what’s going on…”

“Don’t you think the presence of armed guards in full battle armor is going to tip them off that something is wrong, Mr. Essex?”

“Well…er…”

“Mr. Essex, I recommend that you ask the Marble House to assign some CSIS agents to keep watch on your facility for interim. At nightfall, we can have some Paladin IIs permanently stationed within the server rooms. I can arrange for that quite easily. Do we have any idea who instigated this attack?”

Essex shook his head. “Not yet, but we’re sifting through the surveillance tapes. I expect we’ll have answer tomorrow morning…”

“Very well…”

Brandenburg Hospital

“Right,” bowed the orderly, “I’ll be in the main office if you need anything.”

[FONT=Courier New]Infiltration Team Alpha
Brandenburg City, Genon
Economic District
0900 hours[/FONT]

[FONT=Palatino Linotype]The job had taken more than long enough, Tianna thought to herself as she gave the computer a final instruction, safely disconnecting the flash-drive that had contained the virus. She had a copy of it, along with logs of how it had performed, saved to a simple file on the device; Imperial Intelligence would be able to use the data to determine what sort of computer network security she’d been up against, and possibly devise a more effective counter-measure, if one was necessary—or possible, even. Fortunately, the little slice of code hadn’t left any significant tracks. It could be traced to an inspection team, true, but where that team could have come up with the virus was…

…An unlikely conjecture, to say the least.

Smiling to herself, the junior lieutenant put the small drive back in her pocket, trying to keep herself from giggling. The last step she had to do was pull up a report on the ‘scan’, and bring it to the people at the front desk, to prove that she’d done her job. Then she could leave, and she and the others could get back to the apartment. That would be a relief.

The report downloaded itself to her datapad very quickly, she within seconds, she and the others were on their way out of the room, letting the server continue to run. Within a few days, the virus would trigger; something would happen soon…and the aftermath was all she and the others wanted.[/FONT]

[FONT=Courier New]Infiltration Team Beta
Brandenburg City, Genon
Civilian District
0857 hours[/FONT]

[FONT=Palatino Linotype]Jarred didn’t even bother to look at the orderly as he made his quick bow and left. His attention was instead focused on the bacta tanks, which would soon be some of the most dangerous things in the entire hospital. If anything, it was going to be a grisly day when these were next used.

And as sinister as it was, that made Jarred smile all the more. He knew he could get it done...could sentence possibly hundreds of innocents to their deaths in the span of a short second…and that he could not find another way. That was what got to him the most about it all: there was no alternative. In order for this mission to be a success, people who likely had never even heard of war would have to die in one. Such was the nature of war, though...and all he could really do was pity them.

Walking over to the first tank in the line, the lieutenant-commander pulled out a small needle meant to extract some of the bacta for a quick sampling. He had a few spares in the coat over his uniform, half of which were empty for the other tanks, and the other half of which had contaminants designed to turn the bacta into a corrosive killer. Between Tyler and himself, the entire room was able to be turned into a chamber of death and pestilence…

…Exactly as he desired.[/FONT]

General Trutzig stared out of the stain-glassed windows, watching the daily bustle of the capitol's streets. Several landspeeders passed by on the cobbled roads. More citizens walked by, going about their daily life; buying groceries, taking children to school, going to work. Hans sighed. This could almost be a normal day. The Audacian pivoted to face his awaiting aide.

"How many?"

"Twenty dead, sir."

Trutzig sighed, "Where, how, and when?"

"One of the SE built civilian hospitals, Memorial, Bacta Storage Tank C-14. It appears that someone added a contaminant that turned the medicine into, well, basically a biological weapon. We're still analyzing what exactly it is. And we're not entirely sure when it happened, but within two weeks since it's last registered inspection."

"Registered inspection?" questioned the officer, "As opposed to an unregistered inspection?"

"Yes sir," replied the soldier, "One of the staff members reported that a pair of doctors took a look at it a little over a week ago."

Trutzig frowned. "Do we know the doctors names?"

"No sir, and no-one at the hospitol staff seems to have recognized their names according to the man's description of them. Though several of them do remember seeing people that matches their description, wearing scrubs."

"Holofeed?"

"We're working on that. But sifting through all of those recordings will take some time."

"Inform me immediately when we've found them."

"Sir yes sir."

[FONT=Courier New]Infiltration Team Alpha
Brandenburg City, Genon
Economic District
0903 hours[/FONT]

[font=Palatino Linotype]Without saying much to each other, the three commandos made their way back to the front lobby of the stock exchange, just a few minutes late for the opening bell. Already, several people were crowding into the floor, not in the least bit interested in the trio that was now entering on their little 'playing field' as they began their daily routine. It was almost amusing for the three of them to watch, really; where they worked with the fates of hundreds in their immediate care, and thousands upon thousands of others affected by the outcome of a single battle, these people toyed around with meager credits...vast quantities of nothingness, compared to the pricelessness of even a single life. Without even a word about it to each other, the commandos made their way to the front desk; once there, Tianna handed over the report, and the three of them cordially nodded and headed out of the building. Certainly, if the man at the desk was worth his training expenses, he already knew who to prepare the bill payment for...

...even though, once the procedure was truly complete, he wouldn't even want to do business with the people ever again.

It was enough to make them laugh inside, as they made their trek back to the temporary lodging where the rest of the team had gathered. They could soon get back to the Astral Astoria, and from there, back to Imperial Space...a place that, for them, felt far more comfortable than even the warmest bed in all of Brandenburg City. That, at least, made them all genuinely happy.[/font]

[FONT=Courier New]Infiltration Team Beta
Brandenburg City, Genon
Civilian District
0903 hours[/FONT]

[font=Palatino Linotype]The poisoning had taken a little longer than anticipated. With the security measures in place in the storage tank, that delay was necessary; precaution was far better than getting caught in the act, and ruined by nothing more than a simple freaking holo-feed. Still, the delay was taxing on his patience, and he wished, silently, that he hadn't been forced to take such a bothering delay.

Still, he smiled to himself once he was out of the room, and the grin managed to find itself a way onto his face. Everything was done; by now, the stock market team would have cleared out, their work complete, and Ruby would probably be gossiping in some break room, ready to be picked up and carted out of the place before she became a risk to the operation's security. She was also more than likely to have freaked somebody out in there, what with her awkward appearance...people who had less than normal fashion senses were...at least, laughed at. He was sure she could deal with it, but that was beside the point.

As he made his way over to the nearby elevator, Jarred sent out a signal on a very particular frequency he'd programmed into his comm-link earlier. Ruby would receive the signal, undoubtedly, and would hopefully respond to it with all due swiftness. He wanted to be out of the hospital soon; if she wasn't in the main lobby in five minutes, she'd have a lot of running to do to make up for it.

As the final door opened in front of them, the two 'inspectors' found themselves face to face with their remaining teammate, and started to walk over to the reception desk. They couldn't just leave, after all, without tendering a report on what they'd been reviewing...that just wouldn't be proper. Still smiling just a little, Jarred took care of delivering the report, keeping his voice nice and calm. "If you could," he told the receptionist, "let the supplies manager know that the bacta in lot C-14 has just been inspected, and it's approved for use."

And with that, the three of them headed out, and made their way to regroup with the others.[/font]