It is 0600 in the morning of a standard day aboard OS Paladin. A Teusday, and, truth be told, not a very exceptional day except for the sight of maintenance crews with their trusty droids still scrubbing up the remains of what looks like it was probably a huge blood-letting. "They did what with it?" Asks one bald man as he supervises one of the robots in a sort of detached fashion. "Cut it up and stuck its parts in one of the freezer units. Said some scientist wanted it for their studies," replies another blond haired fellow, who is directing another droid that's repairing the deck plating's paint job. "Of course the poor jerk won't get any of its horns, claws, or teeth. The Marines and the pilots hacked those bits off and took 'em for souveniers faster than you can say Mon Mothma. Made so