Breaking Dawn

[Charlotte Tur'enne]

"Of course." Charles managed to hide the twinge of annoyance at the fact the General had referred to Xander as 'your brother' rather than his more formal title.

She wasn't quite sure why it bothered her. Maybe it was just because the General was well, the General. And his attempts at making her feel less like this was some sort of interrogation and more like an informal questioning was just... odd. There was more at stake here than just a simple 'So what went wrong?', that much she could guess at. It was the fact that it wasn't being treated as such that had her questioning the entire thing.

Oh well, at least she wasn't in the hot seat and it had been far less painless than Charles thought it might have been. She obviously wasn't the target of this little inquisition and that was a mild relief.

As she walked out of the office she saw the others, sitting about in a makeshift waiting area that must have been given to them all. A few eyes came her way, silently asking her to spill whatever it was that the General had wanted to see her for. They'd get no such thing.

A look was given to the Sergent who was essentially babysitting the group, he nodded towards an empty seat. Great... now she'd get to play the waiting game and attempt to avoid the questions from the others. Before she played along with that though she motioned towards Xander.

"Your turn. Make sure you get some of that whiskey out of him, it's about the only thing worth going in that room for."

[Alexander Tur'enne]

For once in his life, Xander didn't find himself as one of the awkward undesirable few who always got picked last. For once in his life, Xander wouldn't have cared if he had been.

This Rebel Alliance thing was all still fairly new to him. The most senior member of the Alliance he'd ever dealt with - aside from that Intelligence guy who'd originally debriefed him, of course - was Colonel Dalgas. The closest thing to a Rebel base he'd ever visited was the asteroid in the Roche system that Dorn Force called home. Now he was on Bothawui, an entirely Rebel world; and was being summoned to meet a General. The Alliance, which had seemed like a small, rag-tag assortment of terrorists and freedom fighters, had suddenly been exposed as something much larger than he'd realised; something much larger than the news networks let on, too, no doubt as a result of meddling by the Empire's Minister of Propoganda.

Xander wasn't sure what to think, or how to act. His status in the Rebellion was vague and nebulous; his paperwork called him a Specialist with SpecForce, but frankly he had no idea what that meant, or where that put him in the grand scheme of things. Close to the bottom was a good guess, if the amount of people who seemed capable of telling him what to do was anything to go by. That placed him uniquely low in the grand scheme of things, and made his meeting with the General seem even more daunting, and set his stomach churning with nerves.

His reaction struck him as absurd. He'd met with all manner of people over the course of his work back on Corellia - high ranking members of corporate and military hierarchies from at home and abroad. Rather than feeling nervous, he had instead felt mildly smug. But then, he supposed, he was the one with the power there. When they visited his lab, or listened to his presentation, the flow of information was on his terms; now however, he was out of his comfort zone.

And out of his depth.

He stepped into the office, eyes darting around; it took an immense amount of willpower not to seem too overtly nervous. He was suddenly struck by the realisation that, without any formal military training beyond the crash course that Major Glayde had provided over the last few months, he had no idea what to say or do when presented with such a superior. Should he bow? Salute? Step over and shake his hand?

All he managed to muster was a sheepish smile. "Uh, hi."

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

Predators could smell fear.

At least, that was what many cultures seemed to believe. It was more complicated than that; more about reading posture, body language, and picking up on all manner of other clues, though certain species did release certain pheremones, or would produce more pungent perspiration that sensitive scent glands of many predators could detect.

While the Bothan race had evolved far beyond the level of mere instinctive predators over the millennia, those instincts still lingered. In most cases, a reaction of fear would fill Torrsk with a sense of satisfaction and success; but not now. His objective was to provoke honesty, and he knew that unsettling a subject was a powerful tool; but fear made people defensive, and once in that position, every answer would be tainted. Unlike the younger Tur'enne, for whom calm and charm was enough to disarm and distract, Alexander would require a different approach.

"Have a seat, Specialist," Torrsk instructed: voice gruff, expression stern.

The whiskey and glasses from his conversation with Charlotte had disappeared; his desk was now a perfect example of precision and organisation. He waited a few moments, as Xander settled into his seat, eyes never wavering from a penetrating stare fixed on the Corellian. Eventually, as Xander shuffled uncomfortably under that gaze, he allowed his eyes to drop to the datapad in front of him.

"During the operation to rescue you, and aid your defection to the Rebel Alliance, Major Glayde was shot and severely injured. Some time later, you were treated by medical officers for a broken nose, apparently sustained from Lieutenant Tur'enne, your sister. And most recently, you -" He glanced up, eyes narrowing in scrutiny. "- were treated for claw injuries to your back and other intimate areas, presumably from a 'private' encounter with Captain Tallen. Given subsequent reports about the Captain's attitude towards you, that encounter did not end well."

He leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on Xander as his fingers steepled before him. "Are there any reasons I'm unaware of for the other members Dorn Force to harbour negative feelings towards you, or is it just those three?"

[Alexander Tur'enne]

Negative feelings?

That sounded ominous, and filled Xander with a mix of confusion and panic. The incidents that the General had mentionec sounded pretty bad when you looked at them that way; but they were isolated, and out of context. The whole incident with Charlie was just a one off, and pretty normal for siblings; and Glayde didn't blame him for getting shot, did he? And while it was true, Mara wasn't too happy with him at the moment, everyone else was okay with him being around, weren't they? Had one of them said something? Had they all said something? Had Charlie said something to the General a few minutes ago?

He mustered all the self-control he could to batter those thoughts and feelings down for a few moments, focusing on where he was, and why he was here. This was a witch hunt, pretty much: a search by the upper levels of the Rebel Alliance to find someone they could pin this on, and use as a scapegoat, to make the politicians feel better. Apparently, the bureaucratic big-wigs couldn't cope with the notion that sometimes, shit just happens.

Xander wanted to fire back a glib reply; crack out some snarky elloquence to tell the General just what he thought of the whole situation. But that wouldn't help his situation; nor would it help the team. And weirdly, it was the latter that mattered more. He found himself determined not just to show solidarity to his comrades, but to do them proud. Even if they did all hate him, apparently.

Instead, he kept his response calm and polite - or at least, as close an approximation of those two as a Corellian, and a Tur'enne, could muster. "With respect, General, if you're trying to imply that the personal relationships between the members are somehow responsible for the failure of this mission, that's utter felgercarb. This mission went south because the intelligence brief you guys provided for us neglected to mention the garrison of extra troops we'd have to contend with."

He shook his head. "Besides, the personal side of Dorn Force is what makes us so damned effective - this mission excluded, our record speaks for itself. The only reason you know about the friction between any of us is because we work it out of our systems long before we wind up on a mission: those incident reports are evidence of us doing just that."

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

An interesting perspective; not one that the General necessarily agreed with, but then Dorn Force was something new and unique - within SpecForce, at least - and there were very few people qualified to comment on what was the right or wrong way to do things.

In certain respects, Dorn more closely resembled a Mission Group from SpecOps, and such units were filled with rogues, mercenaries, and the like; while the personal aspect of those units was one of the specific reasons Torrsk himself wasn't a fan of the Special Operations approach, they did at least manage to produce results, just as Dorn Force had.

He stroked a hand thoughtfully down his muzzle. "Very well, Mister Tur'enne," he conceded, leaning forward to peer at his datapad again, collecting his thoughts. His mind picked out one of Tur'enne's statements. "You believe Alliance Intelligence is to blame for what happened?"

[Alexander Tur'enne]

Xander winced; while he thought that it probably was Alliance Intelligence who had dropped the ball in this particular instance, the last thing he wanted to do was deflect blame away from Dorn Force, merely to have it settle on the shoulders of some unsuspecting analyst who no more deserved to take the fall than anyone else.

"I blame the Empire," he responded simply, shrugging as he spoke. "They're the ones who decided to bolster the local garrison beyond standard operating protocols for no good reason. It's no wonder Intel wasn't able to warn us about those extra troops: their being there made no sense."

He mused the thought for a moment, speculating on possible reasons. "It wasn't exactly a heavily occupied planet; none of the usual garrisons and legions littered all over the place that you get on some of the more populous worlds closer to the Core. Most of them were regular infantry too, rather than Stormtroopers."

He shrugged again. "My guess is that one of the starships they've had patrolling around that corner of the galaxy dropped off a chunk of it's troopers on shoreleave, and went back to it's patrol schedule. That outpost was probably the only place on the planet with enough bunk space."

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

An intreguing speculation; perhaps a little more optimistic than the standard military assumption would be, but then, that fit perfectly with Xander's personality profile.

Torrsk had been a little skeptical when he'd heard that Colonel Dalgas had allowed this Tur'enne - a civilian, with next to no combat experience, and certainly without the full extent of SpecForce's intensive training regimen - to act as more than just logistics support for the team, and actually accompany them on missions. Dalgas had argued that - based on Glayde and Tur'enne's testimony - Alexander had handled himself reasonably well under fire during his rescue, and that his skills and experience could prove invaluable to the team. He was of more use to them, Dalgas had said, in the field as opposed to on the other end of a holocomm message.

As yet, Xander hadn't proven him wrong, and now Torrsk saw another potential contribution that the elder Tur'enne could make to the team: a fresh perspective. Those, Torrsk mused, were in extremely short supply amongst the grizzled elite that made up much of SpecForce.

However, it wasn't Xander's insight that dominated Torrsk's attention: it was something else that he'd drawn attention to, which began to form a web of connections with reports and testimonies in the General's mind. Until now, there had been a foolish assumption in his mind that the troops Dorn Force had faced were meant to be there: that Alliance Intelligence had simply got the numbers wrong.

But what if Tur'enne was right: what if they were simply there by coincidence?

Or worse, what if it wasn't a coincidence at all?

He kept his voice controlled, but internally he felt his mind urging him to race towards more answers. "You and Lieutenant Tur'enne were observing the operation from a sniper position some distance away; that puts you in a unique vantage point to provide an overview of the operation. Think back, carefully: does anything strike you as odd about how the Imperial's responded?"

[Alexander Tur'enne]

Think back? That was just great. Why couldn't the General have asked a few hours ago, when he'd just woken up from reliving the blind panic as their carefully crafted plan fell apart before his eyes.

The operation was simple: hell, it wasn't even the main part of the mission. SpecForce had sent them there to take out an Imperial communications relay, but they hadn't made it that far through the plan: Glayde had taken Oran Jsorra to get a read on the type of equipment they were dealing with, O'Hurn to analyse the disposition of their defenses, and had taken Mara to assess what kind of ordnance they'd need to convert the relay into pretty fireworks. Xander and Charlie were providing back-up, in the form of a sniper rifle and a few extra pairs of eyes.

The trio had been disguised as locals; they'd been stopped in the street outside the compound for 'loitering' by one of the garrison stormtroopers; one thing had led to another, and Mara had wound up turning the trooper into something mushy. All hell had broken loose, with soldiers scrambling out through the gates, manning heavy repeaters from emplacements on the compound walls -

He frowned. Emplacements. Compound walls. He squeezed his eyes tight, trying to picture the scene; recalled the vision of a blaster bolt spat from Charlie's rifle slamming into the face of one of the E-Web gunners. Slamming into his visible, exposed, not-Stormtrooper face.

His eyes shifted to Torrsk, brow furrowed with confusion. "Some of the gunners on the walls were Imp Infantry, not Stormtroopers. If they were on shoreleave, why did they respond so quickly?"

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

Why indeed, Mister Tur'enne.

A knot of concern began to form in the pit of Torrsk's stomach, as he realised that they may have been looking at the situation all wrong. Worse, they might even be looking for the wrong kind of culprit. He would need to talk with his peers and superiors about this new possibility; but the insight would be of no use unless he could expand a little more on his suspicion with evidence.

Besides, he had more interviews to complete; and the bureaucrats he worked with would no doubt look unfavourably on him having left the job half-finished.

"Thank you, Mister Tur'enne," he said, with a curt nod of his head. "You have been most helpful." He hesitated, glancing at his datapad yet again, weighing up his options. "Send in Sergeant O'Hurn, if you could."

[Alexander Tur'enne]

Xander blinked, confused by the relatively short and painless scrutiny that the General had placed him under. Granted, he wasn't a soldier, and probably had very little to offer the General in terms of useful insights. Even so, Charlie had been here ages longer than this.

He rose slowly, not entirely sure what to do with himself, and again unsure of what to say or react. It didn't help that the General hadn't bothered to provide any kind of response to his question either; had the giant canine simply chosen not to answer such an idiotic question, or was his lack of response something more personal?

Damn it, Xander, his mind hissed at him. His thoughts strayed back to the General's opening question, and the doubts it had conjured up about how the rest of the team percieved him. His shoulders slumped a little, and a glimmer of determination attatched itself to a stray thought about finding a bar and getting completely wasted.

He glanced at the General again. "Sure," he said simply, hesitating for a moment longer before wandering - a little dumbstruck - out of the office and into the corridor beyond.

Not particularly compelled to look at anyone directly, he picked the most equidistant empty seat in the waiting area and headed straight for it, grunting and jerking a thumb over his shoulder as he passed O'Hurn. "You're up next, Sarge," he muttered under his breath.

[Kyran O'Hurn]

Ky had been called in from the field for this little get together. Something wasn't too happy about. He'd much rather be out training troops rather then talking to the brass.

Not that he had anything against the brass, well at least the ones who didn't have their heads up their own asses.

Oruo'rel for everything he'd heard was not one of those, though didn't change the fact that Ky would rather not be there. Though it did get him into a clean uniform.

As he walked into the General's office Ky's soft soled combat boots barely gave an audible clue that he had arrived before his voice fully announced it.

"Gunnery Seargent Kyran O'Hurn, reporting as ordered."

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

Torrsk didn't look up from his desk immediately; his reactions were slow, seemingly casual and disinterested, leaving the Sergeant standing while he finished whatever task it was that kept his attention so intently focussed on the datapad before him. Finally, he peeled his eyes away, and glanced up. "Have a seat, Sergeant," he offered, gesturing a paw towards the vacant chair opposite his desk. Though keeping his observations covert, he watched the Pathfinder carefully.

Though each Regiment of SpecForce had it's own opinions of which unit was the most elite and formidable amongst them, Oruo'rel had always had a certain respect for the Pathfinders. While he had never actively served in the field with SpecForce - his status had seen him enter the Rebellion as a senior officer, not as a soldier - much about the Pathfinders and the Rangers reminded him of the work he had done decades before with the Bothan Defense Force. Those soldier sensibilities found the gung-ho Marines too arrogant; the covert Infiltrators too subversive; and the Heavy Weapons Specialists far too loud and simple-minded. The Pathfinders meanwhile were rugged and formidable; they battled the wilderness just as much as they battled the enemy.

He felt sympathy then for Sergeant O'Hurn, trapped in this obscure, unorthadox team with disparate specialists from the four corners of the Rebellion. He kept those thoughts to himself, of course.

"You are perhaps Dorn Force's most qualified member, with regards to reconnaissance," he said simply. "In your assessment, how extreme was the difference between the outpost's defenses in reality, and the Intelligence provided? Were there any indications prior to your encounter with hostilities that might have warned you that something was amiss?"

[Kyran O'Hurn]

Ky acknowledged the offer of the chair with a nod but opted to stay standing, and simply switched to an "at ease" position with his feet spread shoulder width and his hands behind his back.

"Sir, while I'd be the first in line trying to take off whichever Intel puke screwed the pooch on this op, I can't fault Intel completely on this one."

He paused for a moment as he recalled the events in question.

"I was out in front of the rest of the team scouting the defensive positions. What I saw originally, Intel was pretty accurate. As I reported in my after action report, they were only off by two heavy bunkers and approximately one hundred extra stormtroopers."

Ky paused again, waiting to see if there would be a quick interruption. There wasn't, so he continued.

"What we actually got hit with, was a force almost twice the size of what Intel had reported, but they had them hidden from view. My best guess is that they had constructed an underground facility to house and train those troops, because what you could see on the ground would never have housed that many troopers. Not unless they were sleeping 3 to a bunk."

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

Torrsk scrubbed a hand across his muzzle. Specialist Tur'enne's shrewd observations of unit diversity were concerning all on their own, but with the added information from the experienced reconnaissance eyes of the Pathfinder, a knot of frustration was beginning to gnaw away at the Bothan. This mission seemed less and less like an accidental incident, and more like a deliberate attempt by the Imperials to lure the Rebellion into an intentional ambush.

"It's a trap," he paraphrased, aloud. "One that your team unfortunately sprang."

It was a statement, not a question; unfortunately, the acceptance of that fact caused more questions to arise: what was present in that facility that made the Imperials so determined to protect it, for example? And who was the mastermind behind the ellaborate ruse?

Those were questions that the Sergeant would likely not have the answers to, unfortunately; but there was still more he was obliged to ask.

"In your opinion, Sergeant, was Dorn Force's reaction to the situation appropriate?" It was an awkward question, and one Torrsk was reluctant to ask; but he didn't allow himself the slightest hesitation to indulge in that. He clarified: "I realise that there are no standard operating proceedures for this sort of situation, but based on your record you're as close to an expert on this as we're likely to get. Were this a pure Pathfinder unit, or some other denomination of special force, do you personally feel that the mission outcome might have been any more favourable?"

[Kyran O'Hurn]

"No sir. In fact I think it is primarily the fact that it was Dorn Force in there that we are able to all be here to be able to debreif with you."

Kyran needed to word his next comment very carefully. While he knew that the General was not biased to one branch over another, it was unprofessional to openly slag another unit based on your personal belief of how they might have reacted in the same situation.

"Sir, it is my belief that if a pure unit from certain other Special Forces branches, that their... exiburance, in the face of the enemy may have lost them an entire team.

Dorn followed the proper small unit tactics in the face of an overwhelming number of enemy forces. We pulled back as quickly as we could without leaving anyone exposed to the opposing fire, and then when we were clear we began escape and evasion until we were able to secure a LZ for the LAAT."

Ky looked directly into the eyes of the General.

"Sir, I don't know if we have a problem within SpecOps command, or if we just stumbled on something that we shouldn't have randomly." He knew that he had basically just insinuated that there was a mole in SpecOps. Though most Rebels would have acknowledged that as a definate possibility even before this operation. "Either way sir, if command has any plans to go back and find out what's going on, I want to be a part of it."

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

Torrsk fought to keep his lips grim-thin, but couldn't help a slight tug of a smile at the Sergeant's enthusiasm. The General too was enthusiastic to launch another raid against the planet; he was the kind of man who had a determination to fix his own mistakes, and carried that same attitude on behalf of the entirity of SpecForce. Were it up to him, Dorn Force would be back in the field, spearheading a transport full of SpecForce's finest. Overwhelming opposition or not, they'd take out that communications array, and convert whatever underground bunker their might be into a rather fetching crater.

Alas, the decision was ultimately not Torrsk's, and there would be other elements of the Rebellion to satiate and satisfy beyond just his sense of duty.

He offered Kyran a curt nod. "Noted, Sergeant. Unfortunately, I don't think the question of who returns will be answered by me." After all, the General mused, even in passing they'd accused Alliance Intelligence of dropping the ball on this particular mission. Even if such accusations were retracted, it wouldn't surprise him if the agency tried to remidy the situation themselves; making it look like it was SpecForce that was the weak link in the chain of operations.

Torrsk sighed. Politics was a loathsome past-time.

The last question was the most awkward of all; one that Torrsk was not entirely sure how to approach. Dorn Force had been the subject of much discussion surrounding this particular event, but the topic had strayed into scrutiny of the unit as a whole. Several areas of "concern" had been highlighted by a somewhat arrogant and grating member of Alliance Intelligence; Torrsk was forced by governmental insistance to tackle those issues.

"I will be straight with you, Sergeant." All pretense of front and formality fell away, the General's shoulders slumping ever so slightly. "A review of Dorn Force's operations to date has been conducted by a -" He left the identity vague. "- 'third party', and they feel that certain aspects of the team's operation are perhaps inefficient, or ineffective."

He hesitated, momentarily. "One of those areas of 'concern' is you. It has been suggested that your skills and abilities are being squandered within the team; that a veteran Pathfinder such as yourself can be used more effectively, and that constraining you within the rigid structure of a team like Dorn Force is a waste." He winced, slightly. "I do not entirely disagree."

Leaning back in his chair, he offered a shrug. "I have been instructed to offer you reassignment," the General revealed, leaving the statement to hang as he waited for O'Hurn's reaction.

[Kyran O'Hurn]

"Sir?"

The reaction was one of surprise. Not so much at the idea of being reassigned, but the "offer" of reassignment. Ky had been around the block more than a few times, and being offered reassignment didn't necessarily mean moving up the chain, or for that matter moving into a better situation.

Taking a moment to compose himself again he addressed the General.

"Sir, with the same candor. While Dorn may not have been my first choice in assignments at first, I have come to appreciate the idea of such a unit. There is an advantage of having specialists from all our branches working together, if for nothing more then it covers each branches deficiencies.

In the future I believe units such as Dorn would be beneficial as a whole to the SpecOps command. That being said, and reading between the lines. I believe what you are saying is that someone higher up the chain of command has decided that we are no longer viable."

What Ky didn't include, was that it was more than likely that that someone was, or at least was being influenced by someone at Intel, who more then likely felt that Dorn tred a little too close to their turf.

"I assume sir, that by "offer of reassignment" you, or someone within 2nd's chain of command, has something specific in mind?"

[Torrsk Oruo'rel]

Torrsk's muzzle split into the Bothan approximation of a grin. "A shrewd interpretation," he commented with a nod, not quite confirming Kyran's assessment, but certainly not denying it either.

His brows twitched into a slight frown as he mustered together some bare bones explanation of what the bureaucrats were pushing for. "To cut a long story short," he offered with a shrug, "Certain people feel that the Dorn Force experiment was too vague. We wanted something that could approximate a SpecOps Mission Group within the SpecForce chain of command; but in making the unit so vague and nebulous, we inherited some of the characteristics that made the military bureaucracy unhappy with the SpecOps way of doing things in the first place."

"There are ways of satiating the letter of bureaucratic insistance while still maintaining the spirit of the unit, however." His hands rested gently either side of a datapad atop his desk. "How would you feel about commanding your own team, Sergeant? I could use an elite team of Pathfinders attatched to SpecForce Command to 'assist' Dorn Force - and other specialist units - from time to time."

[Kyran O'Hurn]

The thought was intriguing.

"Sir, what size team are you talking about?"

Ky knew there were small elite teams that operated in some of the other branches, but he hadn't heard of a pathfinder team. Possibly because they tended to operate in small teams already. But those teams were in a constant state of flux. The idea of being able to hand pick a small team and to train and work with them on a constant basis was definitely something that Ky would be interested in.