Citizen Kara Reinfeldt, political officer for the 206th, was taking advantage of the chaos after her unit’s (what was left of it) arrival on the<em>HMS Kidd</em>to search for contraband. She moved through the galley where Warren’s platoon was fucking around, poking through the soldiers’ belongings one by one. No one noticed her at first—she had a way of  blending into the background like a ghost, and the confidence that said she was supposed to be doing exactly what she was doing. This was not exactly the most glamorous job, but some people tended to forget to properly hide things after a brush with death. More important investigations would have to wait until the dust settled, when she could go over the official reports and start poking holes and conducting follow up interviews.<br/><br/>Kara was more than a little annoyed that her latest problem had survived the recent battle—the loyalty-flagged medic. That was someone Kara would introduce herself to eventually, and put the fear of the Empire into the little cunt. But not just yet—better to wait and see if the traitor was stupid enough to do anything overtly disloyal in front of the security cameras or Kara’s informants within this platoon.<em>I’d love to see that one banging helplessly on the airlock door while the countdown drones...</em>There was nothing better than spacing scum like that.<br/><br/>Lost in her pleasurable reverie, Kara was slightly startled when someone nudged her and asked, “Hey, sorry to bug you, but you got any water?”<br/><br/>“Busy. Go hell.” Kara said mockingly with hardly a glance as she continued searching for illegal items—the agent wanted the impertinent grunt to know she did not even warrant a full sentence in reply. However, her brief glance immediately troubled Kara—she did not recognize this soldier from the 206th’s files.<br/><br/>Kara stood and faced the woman, her movement accompanied by the barely audible wirr of her light power armor—it did not offer a huge amount of protection or augment her strength like the better models, but it had the advantage of being almost invisible under her uniform. The uniform had the tell-tale lack of markings that signaled Kara’s station with the Propaganda Department—the department preferred not to distinguish itself in an overt way.<br/><br/>“And just who are you to be with this platoon? Where did you transfer from? Let’s see your papers.” Kara was not one to waste time.