FORESIGHT and SCOPE: BOOK TWO

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y-N I N E

ATHENA'S POV

My eyes squeezed shut in annoyance at the sound of the siren-like bell that acts as an alarm clock. I had learned very quickly that the Empire thrived on punctiality, but that sure didn't make me feel less aggravated in the mornings. As I forced myself to roll over and sit up at the foot of my very uncomfortable bed, a singular dim light source flickered overhead. Rubbing the restless sleep from my eyes, I hauled myself to my feet to start the agenda I followed everyday.

Most days, I was assigned a mission with a squad of clones (I used to be appointed to stormtrooper squads, but my casuality rate grew too wide for comfort, and according to Rampart, clones are more expendible). Most of my missions dealt in eliminating insurgents on former Republic-occupied planets. Up to date, a 100% success rate. Like a certain clone squad. At the end of each mission, I reported to Rampart and Rampart only, as requested. On my off-days I spent my time how I wanted to, which mostly involved me lounging in the archives and reading through files, catching up on all I missed out during the Clone Wars. Having Vice Admiral Rampart's clearance accessed me the full kit and kaboodle of records.

It seemed like this morning would be no different. Neatly pressed, folded, and stacked on top of my drawer was my official Imperial uniform. Out of pure defiance, I dressed in my usual attire: tan cargo pants and holster containing my blaster and dual vibro-blades, an off-white, V-neck shirt with three-quarter sleeves, and my bomber jacket. I tucked in the winged shirt collar and tousled my fingers through my voluminous raven waves. Finally, I tied my combat boots and exited my quarters to grab some grub before reporting to Rampart.

Even after the couple months I've been inaugurated into the Galatic Empire, I still received plenty of judgemental glares from officers and troopers alike as I strolled to my director's office to acquire my daily assignment. Part of me pondered if they figured out I was a clone, but then, I believed that would draw in much more arbitrary attention. The other part convinced me they were merely jealous, which I found quite superfluous. No matter — I was enjoying the recognition nonetheless. It was about time I was acknowledged for my contributions to the galaxy.

Upon entering Rampart's office, I was greeted with the same smugged simper that he forced just as much as I did with my respectful stature. "Hello, Miss Quinn," His smoky voice exhaled with the usual apathy. "Your recent report was well received by my superiors. They have a specific mission for you that is to be handled with discretion."

"Discretion is my speciality." I grinned. "What is the mission?"

"You are to go to the planet Endor. There is an Imperial military base that has been overrun by insurgents. It is imperative they be removed. In addition, we have intel the insurgents are holding Imperial officers hostage. This particular base is crucial to a principal project of the Empire. It would be most discerning if it is disclose to be compromised. You will be placed in command of the highest elite stealth squad to ensure its liberation."

"Of course," I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Rampart raised his gaze from his datapad. "Is there a problem, Miss Quinn?"

My eyes narrowed, assessing my situation. I lightly scoffed when I decided it was worth the gamble. "I understand CT — Crosshair has credible experience in stealth and eradication missions. I request his service and only his service if you want me to recover your officers and reclaim your base on Endor."

"Enlighten me, Miss Quinn, for I am confused," Rampart placed down his electronic and propped his elbows on his desk. "I've presented a squad of specialized stealth stormtroopers with you in full command of the mission. Yet, you are 'requesting' you and one other clone should be the only ones to execute it?"

"I've misspoken, Vice Admiral," I said, my lips curled into a smirk. "I meant to say, I insist. Trust me, Sir, a squad of stormtroopers would be too many bodies in my way for this particular stealth and rescue mission." When Rampart remained silent, as if contemplating my words, I cleared my throat with more authority. "In the months I've been serving the Empire, I've been provided all my needs and finished every mission efficiently when I received said needs. I believe it is humble when I say I've proven my intuitiveness. For which I ask, with all due respect, why are you questioning me now? Must I remind you what happened on —"