Identity Given ( Sequel to Identity theft)

[Brent Smith]

"I was beginning to wonder if you died in the blast," Derrium said drily as Brent came down the loading ramp.

The man smiled back with a pained look, "Sorry to dissapoint you. I brought a prisoner. I figured you might be able to question him for any intel you might want or need?"

"Funny how that works, intel and all," Derrium said crossing his arms. "We had three good agents in that palace. Three of them working deep cover and you just killed them all."

Brent felt a pang of remorse in his stomach. "I--I thought--"

"It am wondering if you've ever thought at all," Derrium snapped. "I just lost three of our top opperatives because of you. Rule number 1 is to minimize collateral damage and be as subtle as possible. What about that is so hard for you?"

"Look, I didn't know. How could I know? You didn't even think to tell me that!"

"Give me one good reason to not put you away for life right now, private."

"Because I got the job done," Brent said with snort.

Derrium crossed his arms. "Not good enough."

The private licked his lips. "What--what if I finish their opperations? You have nothing to lose. I don't know anything sensitive. I don't know anyone special. As far as your concerned I'm worthless anyway."

 

[Brent Smith]

Derrium's eye twitched in thought and his face eased from its tension.

"Alright. Deal. It's contengent on your success. Not on anything else."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Brent said feeling relief flood him.

Derrium reached into his pocket and produced a data chip, "Here is the first mission. It's a deep cover op infiltrating a Mercenary corp that's been causing issues on Annaj. You will be going as the neo-Death Watch mandolorian Carl Brath."

"But I don't know anything about Mandolorians," Brent objected.

"Time for you to start learning then," Derrium said before turning and leaving.

Brent spent the next week on a crash course of all things mandalorian. The language was easy enough and the customs were not too difficult to understand. There was an elegance to their simplicity and he was grateful they had no intense graces or noble social struggles that were blue blooded and wild with foolish frivolities. He was ready for anything--or so he thought.

 

[Brent Smith]

"And your sure he is committed to this program?" asked the female voice on the other end of the line.

"Smith still has a conscience. A sense of right and wrong," Derrium said with a wry smile. "I know how to use this to our advantage."

"A conscience is a dangerous thing to have in this line of work," she warned with clear disproval.

"When I am done with him, Smith won't have it anymore. I'm not an amateur at this business, you know," Derrium replied staring at a picture of Brent in a case file, "The poor nieve fool will think he's doing the right thing the whole time."

"Because he is," the woman snapped.

"Oh, of course," Derrium corrected himself. "We do stand for justice after all."

"You would do well to learn a few things from him," the lady said as her last words before the transmission ended.

There was a knock at Derrium's office door.


"Yes?"

"Smith is ready to see you sir."

"Excellent."

 

[Brent Smith]

As Derrium came out Brent felt that the man looked even more..... Sinister than usual. He normally had the demeanor of a ruthless snake but now--well he seemed ever worse.
"Ah your here, and ready at last. It took you long enough," the snake said with his usual smugness.

"Well I'd hate to dissapoint you with change," Brent said with a grim smile. "I'm all prepped and ready are you just going to insult me or are we going to do this?"

"One thing first," Derrium said holding out a finger. He motioned to one of the techs standing by. The man brought foreword a durasteel box that was handed to Brent. "You will find these most helpful."

"What's in it?" Brent asked taking the box.

"Why don't you find out?" Derrium said with a cold sneer. "Access code is 4432."

Brent rolled his eyes at the spook before turning back to his Bishop. Yes. His Bishop. He had decided that it would be his if he had a say in much of anything anymore. And as for the illegal modifications? Well, he was sure they could find a work around. There were rules of course but there were exceptions he was sure.

He tapped on his console, the destination they had programmed on the nav computer was Endor. He took note of it and began to formulate his plan as they exited the gravity well and jumped to hyperspace.

As he turned to leave he noticed yet another data chip laying on the dash, nestled between the autopilot and target lock.

He plugged it into the console and watched as the decryption began.

 

[Brent Smith]

Gates came around the corner with a curious whistle. Brent chuckled, "Endor. I made the jump just a few seconds ago."

The droid gave another warbled chirp.

"That's what I'm reading, nosey bolts," he chuckled. "Just gimme a second, ok?"

His eyes alight on the green text scrolling across the screen.

The Mercinaries he was going to be infiltrating were called the Hell hounds. The file was full of visceral descriptions and images of their acts on behalf of paying benefactors. Brent grimaced as he saw what was left of a village on Utapu with charred bodies and shattered homes. It was pretty clear--they loved their job. Their leader was a rodian they called Redhorn who was the worst of them all. The descriptions of this group and how heiarchy was decided convinced him their monkner was well earned.

His job was fairly simple--get in, get access to their contacts list of employers and get out without dying.

But, he thought the last job would have been simple too, Brent frowned, he wasn't getting his hopes up this time......

 

[Brent Smith]

He ran his fingers through his hair, "I suppose I ought to check and see what is in this case then."

He quickly tapped in the keycode before the durasteel lid popped up with a click and a hiss at the removal of the pressure valve. He cautiously lifted the lid to see in side a pair of gauntlets.

The dark metal gleamed slightly in the fluorescent lighting of the Bishop. A small holoprojector sealed to the bottom of the case activated, a very sightly scientific woman appeared, adjusting her glasses in a matter of fact way.

"Hello, agent, if you are seeing this then, congratulations! It means you have been given some of the latest and greatest in First Order Armament designs and development," she looked at her clipboard, "The armament in question is the X-7 gauntlet pair. We started with your basic Light Shields as a base for your defense--one has been installed in each arm. You never know when the enemy is going to come at you or from which side, after all. We added to it a modular slot--you could fit in pretty much anything you would normally use. Use your imagination, Agent, its your best tool. Since one is always handy to keep near by, we installed a grapple hook on your left gauntlet. As an added measure, electromagnets have been added as a grip on your fingers and palms. They activate based on your reflexology of course and are dynamic to your movement. Nothing is worse than having your weapon ripped from your hands at the wrong moment. On top of that, these gloves will amplify your grip times ten. Do be careful about that." She looked up from her notes with a wry smile, "Just to be on the safe side we have added a Faraday Cage to side step any EMP and Ionization attempts. Good luck, for the Supreme Overlord."

 

[Brent Smith]

After the blue figure dissolved Brent gave a nod. If he was going to be going on wild missions to make up for his debt--at least they were outfitting him for it.

He slipped the gauntlets on. They felt heavier that he would have imagined and the insides felt comfortable, velvet like. As he opened and closed his hands Brent was surprised at how easy they felt to use, almost like there was nothing on his fingers.

He rose and stalked to the armory that his cousin had outfitted onto the vessel. Standing beside the locker of weapons was a sealed armor case. The durasteel plates gleamed with a shinny hue and a design that was recognizable by most of the galaxy. From the T-shaped visor to the mythasour skull blazoned on the chestplate it was clear to him this was a mandalorian armor set made from durasteel. It would do the trick to get him in the base undercover and provide protection in case of combat, but he wasn't about to go touting it for fun after this.

Gates gave a low whistle from behind him.

"Yes I will be wearing this. How long 'til we arrive?" the droid gave a short answer. "Well, I suppose I should hurry then."

 

[Brent Smith]

Even though he was very used to wearing armor due to his stormtrooper training, Brent still found this mandolorian armor bulky and almost cumbersome. He gripped his rifle firmly as the Bishop came in Endor's orbit. Gates led the ship to the Hellhound's base, landing it on a permacrete slab between two refurbished and heavily modified correllian correvettes. As he decended the loading ramp a pair of rodiens clambored towards him curiously.

"Su'cuy?" he asked, reverting to the mando'a he has studied.

<<Ay, you the new help?>> one of them asked, ignoring his greeting.

"Yeah."

<<He couldn't be, >> the other said with a sneer <<Look at how puny he is. >>

A few of the other beings began to gather round, eyeing him and sizing him up.

<<Look at how scuffed his armor is. No self respecting warrior would wear that," the alien insulted with a shrill laugh.

The others around began to join in laughing. Brent scowled under his helmet. No mandolorian would ever abide by their armor being insulted--or their people. The fool hadn't left him many options.

The grapple hook from his wrist shot out, wrapping around the rodien's green neck. It's laugh caught in its throat as Brent pulled him to knees with a sharp pull of his arm.

"You messed with the wrong mando," Brent growled as those surrounding him drew their blasters on him.

"Stand down! Stand down!" shouted Redhorn shoving his way to the front." What the blazes is happening here?"

"You should teach your race to hold their tongue in the presence of their betters," Brent growled.

"Unhand him! Now!" Redhorn demanded, his ears twitching with rage.

 

[Brent Smith]

Brent spent the day searching the place over. His details had covered satellite recon images and old recovered blueprints of this base, but there were still several nuts and bolts to be covered over all in the layout and security of the place. He found the way to the super computer that was supposed to hold the contact info of the Hellhound's various employers was tragically unguarded. He could slip in and out if he was careful enough without getting caught, Brent thought. A female figure in a scant metallic clothing walked past him.

There were a group of prostitutes that stayed on the Hellhound base as company that the mercenaries could access any time they got the urge. Brent had a feeling that if given the choice most of these women would leave, but he doubted they had that luxury. He tapped his helmet, an idea forming in his mind.....

"Hey handsome," she purred stalking the guard on duty closer, "Well don't you look lonesome?"

"I don't have time tonight, Lucenna, I am on duty," he groaned. "In three hours. Please?"

"Too bad," she purred running her fingers through his greesy hair, "Tonight I was running a special for you and you only--100% free of charge."

He licked his lips and scanned the hall, thinking the offer over, "Alright, in the closet, but don't tell anyone about this."

"I wouldn't dream of it," she promised, pulling him into the maintenance closet.

The moment the door slid shut, Brent slipped by into the unguarded room. In his left gauntlet's modular slot he had stored a slicing and decryption device that was slave linked to the Bishop. He rammed the plug into the server and waited as it rapidly extrapolated all the data from the super computer in a matter of minutes.

 

[Brent Smith]

"You promised her what?" Derrium shouted, his voice reaching a pitch of fervor at the end.

"I promised her freedom, a chance at a new life if she helped me," Brent said unmoved as he stared Derrium in the eye, "I was supposed to leave no witnesses and I could think of no better way to into the corridor both undetected and without risking leaving a trace back trail."

"Kill her," Derrium snarled, his hand jabbing at the Bishop, "Go up there and kill her, we leave no witnesses."

"No," Brent crossed his arms emphatically, "She didn't do anything wrong. She doesn't know who I am, what I got, who you are, or where she is."

"And we can't risk her finding out or being tortured and revealing intel," Derrium shot back.

"I'm not killing her, if I have to do more missions to make up for that, then so be it, but she deserves a chance to live."

Derrium's lips pursed, "Fine," he waved to two Storm troopers, "Bring her to my office, we will work out the details."

He turned and left Brent standing there as he marched off into his office. A few moments later the short haired brunette arrived.

"Where am I? Who are you?" she asked.

"You can cut the act, Mahone, we are alone," he said sitting on the edge of his desk, "How was he? Any the wiser?"

"He acted incredibly well," the woman indicated with a nod of her head, "Actually, he was very convincing, especially for a second time only. He worked it all out, acted well on his feet and used what he had at hand. There are few that could be as good, in my opinion."

"I will find out for sure from the other agents that ran the test," Derrium said crossing his arms, "I think its coming time for us to start to give him life fire tests. Something to really work his metal."

"What do you have in mind? Were the past two simulations not enough?"

"If the other agents give me a green light, they were. And then we can start the real missions for him."

"Wonderful I can't wait to see this in action."