"We might need the firepower," Keller replied. "From what you told me he shoots like a pro."

Lt. Byron agreed. "You can put the insignia back after the mission if you like. For now, we need all the droids in the escort party. Sand off the insignia, or repaint it."

Vannin mumbled something about fashion design, and Byron made a face. "I was just saying," he explained, "You should talk to the crew about color and go with whatever they say. It's supposed to look like one of theirs anyway, might as well take their word on the pinstripes." Oddly enough that idea seemed to make sense, and Byron nodded in affirmation. "I take it you want us to leave the rifles behind? Alliance issue might not fly."

Byron shrugged. "It's up to the individual, and to the fire team leaders. I'll be with Slooga's escort -- slice team, check with the sergeant, but for my people, if you can handle yourself with less, that's fine with me. Between the droids and Slooga's men, we ought to have enough."

There were those words Keller hated so much. 'Ought to.' Well, if anyone else wanted to march into battle with a spoon and a fuzzy feeling, that was up to them, but no one was going to convince Vannin to leave his rifle behind.