"And so then I said; well, get it yourself, dick!" Captain Zavvi chuckled, throwing back a glass of whiskey, feeling the burn singe her throat. "So yeah, that's why I don't like to work with stuck-up knobs." She explained to her companion, who chuckled.
"I don't blame you, Captain." Corso replied, swirling the dregs of his beer around. "I'd've hard pushed not to hit him."
"I was very close." Zavvi nodded. "I think if he hadn't got the hint that I wasn't afraid to hit back, I think he would've tried to touch me, and then I don't think he would have survived with his balls intact."
As she let that story came to a close, the Twi'lek glanced over to the entrance of the cantina she and Corso were having a drink, just in case some bounty hunters on their trail had followed them here. To her surprise, there wasn't a bounty hunter, but a figure clad all in black, robes gathered around armour, a hood raised over the figure's head, though the fabric seemed to lay awkwardly for some reason. Her heart missed a beat. Another Sith?! She thought. Stars, the word I helped killed Vaverone has moved faster than I thought.
Corso sensed rather than saw his captain tense, becoming instantly alert.
"Captain?" He asked, and she turned back to him, gesturing him to keep his head down.
"Corso, don't look now, but a Sith's just walked in." It was hard not to want to see, but Corso wisely watered it down to a glance in the direction of the door, alarmed.
"Captain, you don't think-" She quickly shushed him.
"Don't do anything that'll attract attention." She murmured. "We don't have a Jedi's help now, so we gotta be careful not to get into a sticky situation." Surreptitiously, she fiddled with her holocomm, entering the emergency number onto the comm, just in case she needed to call Risha and Bowdaar back at the ship. The smuggler hoped it wouldn't come to that, and that the Sith would move on.
Unfortunately, after wandering around slowly (scaring any patron it got close to), the Sith moved over to them, the pair feeling their skin crawl as the Sith approached. In the shadow of the hood, a pair of yellow eyes gazed back, with a slight glow of the Dark side and soft glints of metal.
"Captain." The voice was feminine, with a clear highborn Imperial accent. There was enough authority in it for the smuggler to know that this wasn't some acolyte; this woman was an experienced Sith who was powerful and she knew it, yet Zavvi was surprised at the politeness that came across; addressing her by 'rank', rather than 'spacer', 'mercenary' or even worse, 'alien filth'. She didn't want to raise any hopes, but maybe this Sith could be reasoned with.
Zavvi turned around on her seat to look at the figure with an easy smile, hoping Corso wouldn't try anything stupid.
"Yes? Is there something you wanted?" She asked. There was no way the Twi'lek would ever address any Sith as 'my lord', except in sarcasm; Zavvi was beholden to nothing but her luck and the laws of physics. And possibly the Force too. The Sith could stuff it.
"I want to talk you, Captain. Preferably alone." A yellow eye eyed Corso, who tensed. Sensing he might get himself into deep trouble, the smuggler intervened.
"I'm sorry, but my partner here goes where I do. You know, in case someone wants to kill me behind closed doors. I'm sure you won't mind if he comes with." She said, eyeing the Sith and readying herself in case she needed to act quickly to defend herself.
To her surprise, the Sith nodded.
"Very well, Captain. Shall we talk away from prying eyes and curious ears?" She asked. It made the smuggler's hackles rise, but she thought she might as well see what the Sith wanted. She wasn't a psycho, nor was she was anything like Vaverone, and Zavvi wanted to keep the mood easy.
"Okay, you lead." Zavvi said. The yellow eyes briefly narrowed, before the figure turned to walk off in the direction of one of the cantina's private rooms. As they set off, Corso moved close to her, leaning down to whisper into her ear.
"Are you sure this is a good idea, Captain?" He asked, eyes widening when she shook her head.
"No." She replied. "But I can't see any other choice. Just get ready for battle; I have a feeling this isn't going to end well."
"Alright, Captain." Corso murmured, feeling trepidation coil in his stomach.
The Sith led them to a room with a table and some chairs, just a little meeting place for people, though Zavvi couldn't understand why anyone on Tatooine would conduct business-like meetings. It was just too hot, sandy and rough for anything like that. But it seemed to suit the Sith, who sat down at the head of the table, waiting patiently for Zavvi and Corso to take their seats across from her.
As soon as they sat down, the Sith folded her hood down, revealing a Sith Pureblood woman a little older than Zavvi, bright red skin scored with a scar from the end of her right eye ridge, diagonally down and narrowly missing an eye, ending abruptly on her left cheek. From her chin were a pair of flesh tendril-like growths, though they seemed fused and unable to move. Her hair was black and shaped into a mohawk, which had caused her hood to rest oddly earlier. Adorned on her face were some jewellery that seemed sunken in her skin, and her ears had strange, oblong shaped earrings up most of the shell, and there were some makeup around her eyes and lips that enhanced her skin tone by being a slightly darker tone. Corso thought that she'd look rather beautiful if she wasn't a Sith.
"My name is Feyrl, Captain Zavvi." The woman began, all business and no nonsense. "I am on Tatooine on my own business, but I have taken a detour to see you." One of the Twi'lek's lekku twitched, and Corso knew that his captain had sensed something amiss. He pretended not to care, scouting the room to see if there was an ambush planned or a trap being prepped to spring.
"Now why would you take a detour for a small-time smuggler like myself? I'm not anything interesting." Zavvi commented, putting up her cocky front, but tempering it to not provoke Feyrl.
"Please do not play dumb with me." Feyrl continued. "You know of a Sith called Vaverone Zare, don't you?" The smuggler shifted.
"Seen and heard of her. What's your point?" The Sith warrior's brow furrowed, one fist clenching slightly.
"You've had meetings with her, Captain. And what's more, Zare is now dead, and I felt it!" She pursed her lips tightly after her snap. "I knew Zare personally, Captain, and I don't like it when my friends are killed." Zavvi's chin jerked up, and Corso watched silently as the women sparred for dominance.
"Well, if you know that much, then you should know that it wasn't just me there." The Twi'lek growled. "There was a Jedi there too, and if you must know, it was her who killed Zare, not me. I was present but I only defended myself."
"Don't lie to me, Captain." Feyrl hissed, rising from her seat, which Zavvi copied. Her fists clenched. "You shot at her!"
"She was attacking me! What, do you expect me to just lie down and die? I kinda like living, thanks!" The smuggler sniped back. Corso also got up, feeling the situation start to take a nosedive.
"I've had enough of you!" Feyrl cried, pulled two sabers from her belt and igniting the red blades, assuming a stance. Zavvi pulled Flashy and Sparkles from their holsters and Corso managed to get Sparky into his hands, and they began to back up, getting ready to flee out of the door as soon as they could. The Sith snarled, and hurled a saber in their direction, the Twi'lek diving to the side to escape the spinning blade, which unfortunately herded them away from the door.
The smuggler was unsure what to do, knowing that anything she shot at the warrior would just be reflected back at her, severely reducing her opportunities to retaliate against any strikes made against her.
She didn't have much time to think further though, as Feyrl suddenly sprang towards them. Smuggler and mercenary skittered away from her impact, separating them. The Sith grinned as she turned her attentions, not towards the Twi'lek, but to the young man. Riggs' eyes widened and for a brief moment was stunned as the realization sunk in he was in terrible danger.
The warrior bent her knees, and it was then Corso unfroze, hand reaching around to activate his jetpack to try and put distance between him and her. But he wasn't fast enough, as Feyrl pounced, using her arm to shove the Mantellian to the ground roughly, Sparky leaping from his grasp and sliding across the floor.
"Corso!" Zavvi cried out, firing at the Sith ontop of him in an attempt to ward her off.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you..." Feyrl cackled, hauling him to his feet and she used her lightsabers to trap him in a 'cage', one blade hovering close to his neck, the other next to his hip. She kicked the rifle towards Zavvi, and away from Corso, knowing she wouldn't pick it up and effectively disarming her prey.
"Captain..." Corso breathed, trying to keep calm.
"Let him go, Feyrl! Your beef is with me, not him!" Zavvi yelled, gesturing with her blasters. Her trigger fingers were itchy, but she knew she wouldn't be able to shoot the Sith before she decapitated Corso. Her heart began to beat faster and faster, and she quickly crushed the small sensation of panic starting to well in the corners of her mind.
"You surprise me, Zavvi. That wise-cracking persona you exhibit to the outside galaxy is, I think, and pardon the pun, starting to crack." Feyrl grinned easily, enjoying the control and the fear she could feel boiling off Corso, even as he tried desperately to suppress it. "Plenty of mercenaries would have fled after a chance to escape open itself up so luxuriously for them. But you stayed...Why is that?"
"Because he's part of my crew, and I don't leave anyone behind." Zavvi growled, setting her jaw and still ignoring the panic in the background. She hoped the Sith couldn't sense it.
To the smuggler's surprise, Feyrl laughed, her grin curling in a way that was almost cruel.
"Oh, such lies, Captain," she said the title with dripping contempt, "your aura bleeds connection to him, dare I say...affection?"
Zavvi's grip on her guns tightened until her knuckles were as white as snow.
"What's your point?" It didn't come out as determined and as level headed as Zavvi wanted it to be, and Feyrl revelled in the failure.
"My point is, I can avenge Vaverone's death, in the most splendid way possible. You see, you have a little bit of reputation in the Empire, and I know they'd love to see you brought before them for punishment for your crimes." The Pureblood explained.
"I'll never give myself in to your Empire!" Zavvi snarled, almost going to shoot Fey before she realized Corso was being used almost as a human shield.
"Now listen to my offer before you make any rash decisions." The Sith warrior tutted. "You can throw down your weapons down now and allow yourself to be taken into custody peacefully. I will let your companion here walk away free, and even maybe have a tearful goodbye before you leave." She grinned, and Corso shifted slightly, Zavvi's lekku shivering. "Or we can do this the hard way, where he dies and you end up critically injured and tortured repeatedly until you give up. So I suggest you choose wisely, Twi'lek."
"I won't go back to your Empire alive." She announced. "I'd rather go down fighting and have you hoisted by your own petard, you arrogant bitch!" The smuggler hoped to goad the Sith into making a mistake, but it seemed to backfire. Feyrl snarled with rage.
"I'd like you to consider my offer again! Let's give you an example of what will happen if you decline, shall we?"
The red lightsaber at Corso's hip moved close, aiming at the underarmour at the top of his thigh. The blade hissed as it effortlessly burned through; though it was weaved with cortosis ore, it was only enough to protect from glancing hits. A sustained assault such as this quickly ate through the fabric and the mercenary groaned with pain as he felt the heat lick his skin, graduating to a barely suppressed yell as he felt it dig into him. Zavvi's eyes widened, and she felt the urge to attack the Sith, but held herself back. Feyrl sensed this and drew her other saber ever closer to the young man's neck, who had to crane his head up as far as he could to dodge the blade whilst still enduring the other pressing into his leg, ghosting up to his hip.
"He sings like a bird, Captain!" Feyrl cried, tasting the fear reeking from them both, feeling her power swell and grow. This was very enjoyable, and she could see why other Sith indulged their tastes for power...She moved the saber away, and Corso gasped, closing his eyes against the wave of pain and wrinkling his noise at the scent of burnt flesh. "Have you made your decision yet?" She asked.
"I...I..." Zavvi looked at her companion, who stared back at her with a look she couldn't describe.
"I tire of this, Captain. Let's see what else I can do..." Her yellow eyes began to glow, reddish black energy gathering and playing around her right hand.
"Captain!" Corso gasped suddenly before he felt his throat beginning to constrict against his will. He attempted to reach up to free himself from the vice around his neck, but had to keep his hands down to avoid the lightsaber and he realized there was nothing there; the Force itself was the weapon.
Zavvi could only look on powerlessly as Feyrl choked him; she couldn't free him from something that wasn't physical. His suppressed wriggles sent painful stabs through her, as did the warrior's manic look. But what really hit through the Twi'lek's armour was the look in Corso's eyes. They were as wide as they could go, panic clear in his brown irises, and she could almost hear him begging her to help her, make it stop, please... His face was now bright red, and slowly starting to darken to blue, and suddenly one of the veins in his eyes popped.
The clatter of two blasters falling to the floor was strangely deafening over the sounds of Corso struggling and coughing, though he seemed to fall silent in horror as he watched them fall from her hands, before looking up to his captain. Despite his state, he was shocked at the sight of her. Gone was the strong, wise-cracking captain he knew and fought beside, and now in front of him was a broken one; the light in her eyes dim, shoulders slumped and a stance of submission. She seemed even smaller than he remembered, and reminded him of a cowed kath hound puppy, shrinking away from a beating. The Mantellian felt his heart cry out in agony at the sight, despite his screaming lungs.
Feyrl grinned triumphantly, releasing the young man from her stranglehold. He almost buckled, shoulders heaving as he wheezed and gulped in precious oxygen, spots dancing in front of his eyes as one started to cloud with red. Thinking Corso was out of the count, Feyrl deactivated her weapons, and began to move over to Zavvi, who stood still, head bowed to hide her expression.
What the Sith Pureblood hadn't realized was she had underestimated Corso Riggs. Though injured and still a little out of breath, seeing his captain looking cowed and defeated had kicked his stubborn side as well as the part of him that couldn't abide to see a bully win, further catalysed by the fact she'd done this to Zavvi.
And woe betide anyone who dared do such things to his lady whilst his heart was still beating.
Slowly, Corso climbed to his feet, pain bleeding away as adrenaline began to flood his system, his fists clenching. He stepped towards the back of Feyrl, who turned, surprised that he was already up. Their eyes met briefly; the puzzlement in her yellow eyes, and a deep, burning anger in his brown ones. Corso shifted, Feyrl's eyes widened in shock, and Zavvi looked up in amazement.
Riggs punched the warrior straight in her face, before planting his feet and driving his shoulder into her chest, throwing the shocked Sith to the ground. He staggered back from his attack, picking up Sparky under the gaze of an astonished Zavvi.
"Corso..." She breathed. "You...You hit a woman!" He gave her a look.
"That isn't a lady, Captain." He rubbed his eye, clearing the blood from it. "Besides, we got bigger problems." He gestured to their side, and saw Feyrl beginning to gather herself again, rage boiling off her even as her eye began to swell up.
The Twi'lek quickly swept Flashy and Sparkles back into her hands, and gave the command of;
"RUN!"
Zavvi and Corso were heedless to those they crashed into or anything in their way; they knew if Feyrl caught them again, they were as good as dead. Not a word was spoken between each of them, saving their breath for the run. Corso was lagging slightly, with a wounded side and an eye continually filling with blood which seemed to determined to reduce his sight.
The Twi'lek fumbled for her comm as they fled, pressing the emergency call button to alert Risha and Bowdaar that they were in terrible danger and needed the Skylark to come to their position immediately. She could only hope that the mechanic would get it moving in time.
A shriek was heard, and Corso couldn't help be glance over his shoulder, seeing an enraged Feyrl leaping towards them, twin sabers held high over her head. To his horror, he noticed she was aimed towards his captain, and that if she didn't move, she'd be sheared into three pieces.
"Captain, go left, now!" He cried. The smuggler did it without a shred of hesitation, just as the blades came down towards her. She missed one, but she screamed as the second hit her, burning its way down the right side of her back. The pain made her misstep, and she tripped, falling onto her face in the sand. She managed to roll onto her wounded back to see the Sith warrior standing over her, weapons raised for the final strike.
"NO!" Corso yelled, skidding to a halt and bringing Sparky to bear, firing wildly in the desperate attempt to draw Feyrl's ire away from his downed captain. She hissed furiously, deflecting his blaster bolts with her lightsabers. One reflected shot hit him in the shoulder, and he grunted, but kept firing.
Zavvi took advance of her attacker's distraction and unholstered her pistols, firing into Feyrl's abdomen and legs, aiming for the gaps between the armour. The Pureblood growled with pain, flinching as the plasma hit home. The smuggler quickly scrabbled to her feet and joined Corso in continuing their attempt to flee, scanning the sky for the appearance of her beloved ship. Come on, come on...
But suddenly they had to skid to a halt as their path was blocked by an Imperial officer. He was pale, with blue eyes, raven black hair and a blaster pistol pointed towards them.
"You're not going anywhere." He said, his accent crisper than Feyrl's rich one, but clearly military. His face held little emotion, blue eyes cold and calculating.
"Get out of our way!" Zavvi practically screamed at him, fear at being caught and anger at being prevented from doing that like a volatile mixture ready to explode. She glanced over her shoulder and watched in mounting horror as Feyrl shambled closer and closer to them, slowed by Zavvi's assault to her legs and lower body. The Imperial saw the condition of the Sith and his eyes showed a flash of emotion, before it was gone and his expression hardened.
"You're staying right here, I believe, Captain." He practically spat the title out of his mouth, like it was a bug. He aimed the pistol directly between her eyes, but again made the mistake his commander made earlier; ignoring Corso.
"Didn't you hear the lady? She said, get out of the way!" His jetpack's engines throttled and the mercenary angled himself for a crippling shoulder charge, knocking the man to the side.
"Quinn!" Feyrl cried, seeing the Imperial floored by the Mantellian, sand spraying up at their impact. She snarled, filling herself with rage and hurrying her pace despite the waves of pain gnawing at her hungrily.
As the two men sprawled on the ground, Corso scrabbling to his feet, the hum of sublight engines filled the air and Zavvi's heart soared as she saw the Skylark swing into view, the ramp opening to reveal Bowdaar perched rather daintily on the edge, bellowing for them to move.
"Leave him, let's go!" The smuggler cried, and the mercenary didn't need telling twice, surging towards the ship as it swung towards them.
"Don't let them get away!" Feyrl yelled, hobbling as fast as she could to get into range to throw her lightsaber at them.
The blade spun rapidly towards them, and this time Corso didn't dare turn around to see where it was, too busy lining himself up with the ramp and ship that moved close to them.
"Jump!" The Captain cried.
At that moment, the saber hit its target, slicing a gouge into the back of Corso's left thigh as he bunched his legs to leap to safety. He cried out with pain, his jump limited by the hamstring. Whilst Zavvi landed on the ramp, Corso only managed to get his front half onto the ramp, and his weight made him slither down the tilted ramp until both Zavvi and Bowdaar grabbed the mercenary, hanging onto him for dear life.
"Close the ramp and go go go!" Zavvi screamed at the top of her lungs, seeing the Imperial raise his pistol and Feyrl readying another throw. With them in such a vulnerable position, she couldn't hope to miss unless the ship moved. The engines groaned as it spun around, the second saber throw glancing off the side, protecting the squishy cargo. As the ramp lifted up, both she and Bowdaar managed to haul Corso to safety in the ship, quickly dragging him through the small airlock so Risha could quickly get into space and away from the Sith and her companion.
Feyrl staggered forward a few steps before she fell into the sand, watching as the Skylark's sublight engines throttled up and blasted the ship up, towards the atmosphere.
"We failed..." She rasped, her wounds starting to take their toll. Malavai Quinn dropped to her side, eyes widening as he scanned her. The shots to her lower body had done the most damage, and due to Feyrl's movements she'd widened the wounds and exacerbated the bleeding. Without a kolto tank it was entirely possible that when the Force's stabilizing effect on her finally wore off, the Sith would crash and go into shock, if she wasn't already.
"We need to get you back to the ship immediately, my lord." Quinn spoke urgently, injecting a syringe full of kolto into her thigh and packing material he could around her open wounds in an attempt to stem as much bleeding as he could. Considering the injuries he'd seen on the other two, he knew they too would fail if they didn't get to treatment soon. He smiled grimly. They would die, if not by their own hand, at least by proxy. "Can you stand?" He asked her.
"A little." She admitted, and Quinn was taken aback by who weak she sounded; not like the Sith he was used to at all. He shook his head, pushing those thoughts away as dipped under an arm and lifted her up, guiding her back to where their ship was parked as fast as he dared.
He called the ship and a Twi'lek appeared on the holo. She was about to say something (probably something snarky, Quinn thought) when he spoke over her.
"Vette, get the medical bay ready and come to the door as soon as possible. Our lord is badly injured and will not survive without prompt medical care!" To his relief, Vette didn't ask a single question just nodded, cutting the comm and running off. He wondered how Feyrl ever put up with the loud-mouthed Twi'lek, and how the Twi'lek didn't seem to want to undermine her at every opportunity she got. They were questions for another day though, as he only had one mission at the moment, and that was to save his lord.
He didn't even spare a thought for the Corellian freighter fleeing Tatooine...