FORESIGHT and SCOPE: BOOK TWO

C H A P T E R F O R T Y-O N E

FERN'S POV

Recesses, while they were disagreeable to the likes of Wrecker and Echo, were absolutely delightful for me. Unlike my male cohorts, I appreciated not going on a mission in which it was either a bland chore below our skill level or an operation with a high risk of danger and death. However, I liked to remain diligent as well. While Cid has had less jobs to appoint us with, it gave me more time to complete other tasks I've been interested in, such as cleaning out the Marauder.

A daring project, indeed.

The boys, particularly Hunter and Tech, observed my progress from afar. I started with the cockpit and worked my way back to my and Omega's room up in the gunner's mount. I actually washed down the surfaces of the control console and swivel chairs, and then proceeded to clear out piled-up scraps Tech had collected in the corners underneath. The intellectual hoarder attempted his objections to no prevail, watching me helplessly toss the junk off the ship.

Next, there were the stacked drawers on both walls of the corridor that connected the cockpit to the main gathering space. Two of them contained blankets, extra clothing and gears for different climate scenarios, and the correlating equipment. Another was stuffed with more of Tech's gadgets and tools. I found Wrecker's "secret" stash of various munitions. As I carefully rummaged through it, the big guy hovered over my shoulder.

"You're not going to throw out any of it like you did with Tech's stuff, right?"

"Is there anything that should be thrown out?" I questioned teasingly.

"No! No," he stammered. "Everything in there is, is—um—useful."

"Good choice of words, Wrecker." I smiled and closed the drawer. The last one was stuffed with my and Omega's belongings. The young girl's navy-blue jacket was folded neatly next to her leather headgear. Most of the items inside was extra clothing, but I've also invested in a hobby or two and had my own horde of parts — but unlike Tech, I actually utilize them into my projects. One, in particular, I was very eager to finish for a certain clone in the squad.

Moving onto the back space of the ship, while I crawled on my hands and knees to rummage through the last compartments lining the bottom of the wall, just under the pull-down cot, Omega was perched above me in our shared room. She sat cross-legged with her hands resting on her knees and her round eyes closed. She inhaled and exhaled with deep, concentrated breaths. I smiled to myself as I cleaned out each slot — the meditation sessions were her new pastime ever since Gungi taught her on Kashyyyk. Although the outcome isn't the same as the Jedi's connection with the Force, it allowed the young girl to practice patience, tranquility, and discipline to commit — something she doesn't get enough in this galaxy. Plus, it keeps her quiet for an hour or two.

"Hey, Fern," Hunter said softly as he approached me on my left. "How about you take a break and we can go get some food?"

"I'm almost done." I promised. "I'm definitely feeling hungry after this exhilerating mission. I've only got this last drawer and some rearrangement and we can go."

Hunter smiled and nodded, then turned on his heel to return to the cockpit where Tech and Echo resided. Simultaneously, I promptly opened my final opponent and immediately cocked my head to the side in confusion. Inside, were several large, folded-up sheets of paper. Curious, I lifted one and unraveled it. I gasped and crunched the poster down.

"Hunter..." I stammered. The sergeant stopped and turned.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me this is not yours." I breathed so Omega wouldn't hear. Shielding it with my back to the young girl, I peeked the banner open so only the sergeant saw and revealed a pin-up image of a Twi'lek posing seductively. Hunter's dark eyes grew so wide they practically bulged out of his skull and his complexion burned crimson-red. "I—No—That is—um—it's not what you think."