Corellian Sunrise
A sharp and cold wind blew the scent of dust and permacrete towards a small imperial strike team. The sound of an explosion still ringing in their ears, Captain Malavai Quinn scanned the area with binoculars – it appeared that they had successfully destroyed the republic weapon depot in Axial Park.
"Good work, sergeant," he said with an even voice.
"Thank you, sir!" replied the soldier.
Quinn had followed his orders and yet he felt remorse at the sight of an entire block brought down because of a relatively small weapons depot. He had proposed that a small detachment of elite soldiers would have archived the same result without the collateral damage. His superior, Darth Tamear, had stared at him with his blood-red eyes and didn't even deign to answer – he simply ordered Quinn to set an example and blow the depot up for good. Of course Quinn had stood at attention as always and fulfilled his job with his usual diligence.
It wasn't the first time that Tamear had ignored his advice. Quinn was well aware that Tamear's lust for blood always won over any possible tactical advantage. Still, Quinn couldn't deny that the Sith always completed his missions but for his taste the body count was too high – especially on imperial side. Tamear had killed able imperial officers for as much as not fulfilling their missions.
"Mission accomplished, retreat to the assembly point," ordered Quinn and scolded himself for letting his thoughts wander in the past. Only the present counted.
After their return Quinn dismissed the soldiers and made his way to Tamear for a debriefing. Quinn made a small detour through the MASH to assess the casualties of the invasion force. The temperature in the sick bay was considerably higher than outside, Quinn registered that he started to sweat soon after he had entered. The stench of kolto and blood made the air thick and Quinn had to breath trough his mouth lest he would get nauseous. He exited the MASH and exhaled deeply before finally entering the imperial headquarters of Coronet City. As expected he found Tamear pacing back and forth in front of the commstation – the Sith always grew restless if he couldn't fight himself. Lieutenant Pierce leaned at the station and had a bored look on his face. Quinn frowned, he didn't like Pierce, the man was not only careless in his missions, he also thought himself of a black-ops daredevil – everything was a challenge and a game to him.
"My lord, we have successfully destroyed the weapons depot." Quinn saluted and waited for Tamear to respond. Pierce simply snorted at him and Quinn felt like anger boiled up inside him. If it wasn't for Darth Tamear who obviously had taken a liking to Pierce he would have dressed him down.
"Yes, nice work, Captain – but we are far from finished teaching his republic scum a lesson!" Tamear stopped his pacing right in front of Quinn and drew so near to his second-in-command that he could see every black vein in the Sith's face. Quinn was too much of a professional to let on that the sight of a Sith so deeply entrenched in the dark side of the force disturbed him, he remained calm and waited for the Sith to continue.
"I've decided that we should take on the Bastion!"
Quinn felt a bang of fear and stared directly at Pierce. This was no doubt where this idea was coming from. The Bastion was a republic fortress, imperial troops had tried to conquer this site since the invasion began, but to no avail. It was protected by several layers of force fields, turrets, walkers, war droids, seasoned troops and of course a whole battalion of Jedi.
"My lord, I advise strongly against…"
Tamear smiled, it made Quinn uneasy, but he didn't flinch. "You reek of fear, Captain."
"Yes, my lord, I am worried. It would be suicide to attack the most fortified complex on the whole planet."
"Duly noted, Quinn, nevertheless we will attack the Bastion and defeat the Republic at once," said Tamear and turned around. Apparently he didn't expect Quinn to respond. The Captain hesitated shortly, but then the memory of Moff Broysc resurfaced and he decided that he would voice his concerns.
"Sir, I must insist…" began Quinn.
Tamear faced him again, he said in a low voice: "We will attack, and that's final."
"My Lord, this attack could cost us the victory in his sector! We don't have to manpower to go on a suicide mission on this scale! I must ask you to reconsider!" Quinn spoke louder than he had intended and after he had finished he realised that the whole situation room had fallen silent. All eyes were on him and Tamear.
Quinn cursed under his breath, he had made a public spectacle of a Sith and there was only one way he could answer to his kind of challenge. He closed his eyes and waited to be killed. And only a fraction of a second later Quinn felt the force grip around his neck, slowly crushing the life out of him. His eyes snapped open, Tamear stood right in front of him. The Sith's face was distorted in anger.
"Damn it, Quinn – was this really necessary?" he asked in a low voice.
Quinn couldn't answer, instead he only made a rasping sound, scratched the skin from his throat while trying in vain to remove the invisible hand chocking him. Quinn's consciousness slowly slipped away.
xxXXxx
The first thing Quinn felt when he came to his senses was a numb pain around his throat. A familiar smell confirmed his first suspicions that he was in the MASH. Slowly he sat up and touched his neck – a kolto-bandage had been applied. Quinn was surprised that he was alive and… well. Quickly he checked his limbs. He was relieved to notice that Tamear hadn't mutilated him like some of his other victims. But perhaps the punishment was only to start – one could never be sure with a Sith.
"You decided to grow a spine in the worst moment possible," snarled Pierce who was sitting at his bedside.
Quinn stared coldly at Pierce and whispered with a coarse voice: "Why are you here, Lieutenant?"
"Tamear ordered me to, he wants a word with you." Pierce pulled a holocommunicator from his utility belt and contacted the Sith. "He's up, m'lord."
The men remained silent until Tamear entered the tent. Both bowed before the Sith, Quinn had to struggle to keep a calm façade, even the slightest movement sent a burning sensation through his neck. Tamear clasped his hands behind his back and simply stared at Quinn for quite some time before actually speaking.
"It was your own fault, Quinn. Nobody defies me!"
"Yes, my Lord," replied Quinn while standing at parade rest.
"Are you still convinced that taking the Bastion is a suicide mission?"
Quinn was mildly surprised, he hadn't expected that Tamear would bring this specific topic up after what had transpired. "I am."
"You should know that I would never belay an order as soon as I have given it, Captain. I know that we will win this battle – and you will make sure of it."
"My Lord?"
"Pierce will brief you on our recent attack plans and you will straighten them out," said Tamear quietly. "You are my best tactician after all."
Quinn bowed once more. He knew that it was almost impossible to improve their odds, but he was determined to make the impossible possible – for the Empire.
A few hours later even the very small hopes Quinn had cherished had been crushed. As expected it was indeed nay impossible to take even the first lines of defence down. Quinn rubbed his temples and stared blankly at the data pads on his desk. Nothing was impossible, he told himself sternly, it was only a matter of perspective, he just had to focus more to go over all the data one more time.
"'sup, Capt'n?" asked a female voice, it startled Quinn and he looked up to see Vette standing in front of him. She brushed the data pads aside and sat on his desk.
He frowned at her. "I don't have time for your non-sense, Vette. Move aside and let me work."
"You have been at it for hours – maybe you should take a break… here have some chocolate!" she replied cheerfully and offered him a chocolate bar.
"Leave me this instant!" he hissed. Vette had more than once annoyed him with her babble but Quinn had always managed to stay polite towards her, but now his usually good manners left him.
"Nope! You look like hell, if you don't take a break you leave me no choice but to help you with your task!" she crossed her arms and stared at Quinn with an unusually serious expression on her face.
He sighed and poured himself another cup of coffee, Vette was quicker however and snatched the cup away from him and took a gulp herself.
"I will stay up all night if I have to!" she exclaimed and sat down across from him. She took a data pad and started to read it.
Quinn eyed her and wondered briefly whether this was another one of her pranks. In the end it didn't really matter – he had to come up with a plan within the next 24 hours. Quinn got up and fetched another cup from the cupboard above the small replicator next to him. While he poured himself another coffee, Vette looked up from her data pad. He fully expected her to start babbling, but to his surprise she focused her attention again on her reading without saying a word. His gaze lingered for a moment on her and strangely enough he felt grateful for her support. Vette was a lot smarter than she let on, but devising a strategy wasn't her forte… unfortunately.
A shadow fell upon Quinn, and without looking up he knew that Tamear had returned. Quinn looked at his chronometer (several hours had passed) and slowly rose to salute his superior.
"I see you enlisted some help," Tamear jeered and casually gestured for Vette to move aside, and sat down. "Regale me with your tactics, Captain."
"There is only one way to minimise our casualties to an… acceptable level, my Lord: we have to take out the automated defences." Quinn activated the small holoprojector in his desk, a greyish-blue map of Coronet City with red spots was displayed. "We have to cut the power – as well as the back-up power – at these locations. The corellian power-grid isn't designed to withstand a multiple assault on strategic generators."
"That's what I like about you, Quinn – you're my answer man!" exclaimed Tamear, he got to his feet and grabbed Quinn's shoulders in an iron grip. Quinn felt uneasy, he didn't like physical contact.
"My lord, it won't be easy – ten stealth teams have to insert a spike in the respective power system so that we can shut it down simultaneously. And one of the generators is surrounded by a mine field as well as several republic outposts."
Tamear intensified his grip, it was painful but Quinn managed to appear unimpaired.
"Ah, I feel that it is crucial that my best man take on this particular task… I sincerely hope that you will survive, Captain… and you too Vette." Tamear let go of Quinn and grinned at the two of them, but in a matter of seconds his everything but friendly smile faded. "I kill everybody who disrespects me, consider this your chance to survive your misstep, Quinn."
"Yes, my lord," Quinn replied and watched how Tamear left his office, his dark robes billowing behind him.
Quinn closed his eyes. He knew that his chances of survival were slim at best. He rubbed his temples and breathed deeply. This was it, he would finally die for the glory of the Empire. Somehow he had always imagined that his end would be more meaningful than this – trying to save a downright stupid plan from becoming a complete disaster. Quinn opened his eyes and stared right at Vette. She looked pale. 'Collateral damage' was the first thought that came to his mind. Since the day Vette had been forced to join Tamear's crew she must have realised that one day she would become a victim of ruthless Sith politics. It was the fate of most slaves in the Empire after all. He decided that he wouldn't let on that there was a high probability that they wouldn't return from this mission.
"Get you gear, Vette. I will assemble the other teams and brief them – we will depart in an hour."
Vette blinked a few times before she said in her usual cheerful intonation: "Aye aye, Capt'n!" He hadn't missed the flabbergasted look on Vette's face when Tamear had casually ordered her to her death. But Vette's blithely response led Quinn to believe that she hadn't realised how dangerous their assignment was.
xxXXxx
"… and then she simply told me to go for a walk – awkward, right?" asked Vette.
"Yes, quite," Quinn absentmindedly answered. He hadn't heard a word Vette had said. He constantly looked at the mini-map on his wrist-display and tried to calculate their exact time of arrival at the generator.
They were walking through the ruins of what once had been the Corellian zoo. A recent imperial bombardment had killed all animals. Maimed animal corpses were all that was left of the once famous zoo. From the corner of his eye he saw how Vette approached the remains of a nekar cat. The grim expression on her face was a stark contrast to her usual blithely self. She took a knee next to the cat. With a trembling hand she softly caressed the animal's mane. The gesture was so… poignant that Quinn immediately suspected that Vette was after all fully aware of the perils of their mission.
"Come now, Vette – we are less than a kilometre away from our first check-point," Quinn realised that he sounded cold. Vette looked at him with dejection, with a visible effort she forced herself to smile.
"Right behind you, Capt'n!" Vette stood up and followed Quinn, who had already started to walk towards their destination.
"We will soon reach the minefield, according to my intel it mostly consists of anti-personnel mines. We have to proceed with caution." Quinn pulled two scanners from his utility belt and handed one of them to Vette. "Set it to the highest setting – we have to work fast, there is a high possibility that enemy snipers are guarding the vicinity."
"Got it! Did you know that some of the gangs on Coruscant played a game called 'Boum'? They rigged supply crates with explosives and betted on how long it would take the poor to open them." Vette had spoken with her usual verve, but apart from the strange story she sounded too cheery, given the situation. Quinn stopped in his tracks and turned to Vette who was walking behind him. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw how she hastily wiped her eyes. Vette sniffed and smiled again sadly.
"I'm sorry, I'm just scared – let's go!" she said and wiped her eyes once more.
Quinn exhaled. He shortly thought about comforting Vette, but it would be in vain. Nothing he said or did could change the perils they were walking in. Quinn said with a firm voice: "No, I'm sorry that you got dragged into my mess. But I just couldn't remain silent – at least not this time."
Vette stepped closer and nudged Quinn. "Just remember: If I die I'm going to haunt you!" Quinn fought his impulse to take a step back – he didn't like his personal space invaded. But it was clear that Vette was struggling to keep her composure and rejecting her apparent need for closeness would antagonize her needlessly. Quinn looked at her. Vette stood right in front of him, she was a head smaller than him and smiled at him with an openness that almost hurt to look at. Quinn suddenly had to resist another impulse: For a fraction of a second he was about to hug her. Luckily he kept his professionalism.
"We should advance, Vette," Quinn said with a low voice and turned away from her. He had led countless troops into battle but this was the first time he felt guilty.
Sweat was running down Quinn's forehead as he tried to dismantle the permacrete mine that blocked their way. Vette was kneeling beside him, holding wires if needed and occasionally giving Quinn tools to manipulate the mine.
"Let' me finish it – I've smaller hands," proposed Vette. Just as he drew a breath to abnegate she continued by imitating Quinn's accent and voice: "'Vette, you don't know how to disarm a mine and it's against imperial regulation 77b to let an alien blah blah.' Oh, Capn't, but I do, I've watched you for like five times now and frankly – I've dismantled security systems since I was a kid that were way more complicated than these ancient mines."
Quinn supressed a smile and said: "All right. I will take a break. Don't hesitate to ask if something is unclear." He stood up and stretched before taking a sip of cool water from a water bottle. It was unusually hot and he allowed himself to open the topmost button of his jacket. Although he thought that Vette was capable of disarming the mine he still watched her – just in case. Quinn glanced on his chronometer – they were ahead of the schedule. He sat down next to Vette and watched how she expertly manipulated the mine.
Vette was very skilful − not only was she a decent shot, she also had a knack for slicing and apparently she learned quickly. Why Tamear would treat her as badly as he usually did was beyond Quinn. Although she was talking too much she had been an assent on every mission in which she had participated. Yet Tamear and well as Jaesa insulted her and her species at any given opportunity. Quinn thought back…
After he had joined Tamear on Balmorra Quinn had taken no notice of Vette. She had been practically a ghost on board of the spaceship, he never saw or heard her.
After a few weeks he had witnessed first-hand why Vette chose to remain almost invisible: Quinn had briefed Tamear on the progress after the hunt after Nomen Karr's Padawan when the Sith suddenly yelled: "Vette! Come here this instant!" Quinn had fallen silent and watched how Vette appeared in the conference room. She looked frightened.
"Have you made any progress on slicing the typhonian databanks?" asked Tamear. Quinn kept his stoic façade, but nevertheless he was surprised that Tamear had even given such a hard task to a simple slave.
"I broke through the first few firewalls, my Lord," replied Vette, "but to actually access the information you're looking for I need to access the Jedi library – and it is only accessible on Typhon."
Quinn inhaled sharply. Even the best slicers in the imperial navy usually couldn't get past the first firewall, to think that Vette had come so far!
"I'm disappointed, very, very disappointed," whispered Tamear while a sadistic smile played about his lips. "Kneel before me and beg my forgiveness, slave!"
Apparently it was a game already known to Vette, without hesitation she did what was asked of her and 'begged' in a strangely ritualistic way which consisted of Tamear asking whether she had been a lazy useless alien filth and Vette confirming every accusation in a weary voice.
After the briefing Quinn sought Vette, he was curious how she had managed to slice into the first layers of one of the most guarded databanks in the galaxy. He found her in the cargo bay, where she had her sleeping berth. Vette was standing in front of the computer station, her left hand was on her cheek – she was obviously brooding about something. Quinn knocked softly on the doorframe and entered. Vette first had a fearful expression on her face, but as soon as she saw that it wasn't Tamear who was seeking her out, she relaxed a little bit.
"Captain Quinn, how can I help you?" Vette asked with a friendly intonation. She knotted her hands together as she spoke.
"I'm interested in the techniques and programs you used to slice into the Jedi databanks. Care to show me how you proceeded?" Asked Quinn briskly and without waiting for her answer he approached the computer and looked at her expectantly.
"Um, sure," replied Vette, she seemed surprised and at the same time excited.
For the next two hours Vette explained her different approaches to the firewalls and astounded Quinn with her intimate knowledge of slicing as well as unorthodox thinking. During their conversation Vette had been more spirited than he had her ever seen. It was obvious that she enjoyed talking to someone.
After the explanations had ended Quinn said curtly: "Thank you, I must get back to my work."
Vette shut down immediately, her mood darkened visibly. "Okay, bye." She had a pleading look on her face which Quinn choose to ignore – he had after all already lost two hours of his usual work hours.
A few days later Quinn sat in one of the chairs next to the galactic map, reading various mission reports, when he heard someone approaching. The light steps indicated that it had to be Vette. Sure enough she appeared in the doorframe of the cockpit.
"Captain? I… er, have written a new subroutine for my slicing program. Would you like to have a look at its algorithms?" Vette knotted her hands and waited for a response, visibly nervous.
"Not my priority right now, Vette," said Quinn, "but I will come by later. I have to update the navigational computer first."
Vette was visibly upset, but she quickly found her composure again. "Let me help you with that, Captain." And without waiting for his answer she hurried to the computer and began programming. Quinn frowned a little, after all he hadn't given her permission to do so. But seeing her working at an almost incredible speed he decided that she was more than capable of fulfilling the task – perhaps she was even better at it than he, slicing had never been his forte. True enough she completed the update in a fraction of the time Quinn would've needed.
It became a routine in the following weeks that Vette did all the programming required for the missions. Quinn soon discovered that having such a skilled computer expert on board was an immeasurable advantage. On the downside Vette had opened up to him and constantly harassed him with her babbling and had started to call him 'Capt'n' or even 'Mal'. Such informal address annoyed him more than he let on, but nothing he said or did caused Vette to call him by his full title or name.
Things got worse when Jaesa joined them after a few months. Before Vette had occasionally visited him in the cockpit and molested him with her antics and her need for conversation, but after Hutta she practically stalked him and hardly ever left him alone. Quinn became so irked about Vette's constant presence that he even asked Tamear to deal with the obstreperous Twi'lek.
Tamear began to smile as he listened to Quinn's plea and he regretted his impulsive request at once. Tamear did never smile, only if he got to act out his sadistic side he grinned in an unsettling way.
"Oh, Vette has been naughty, hasn't she?" asked Tamear and approached him until their faces were but centimetres away.
Quinn suspected that the Sith knew fully well that he didn't like close proximity and that dislike was the only reason why Tamear bothered to invade Quinn's personal space every time they talked to each other.
"Yes my Lord, she has been disturbing me. I'm afraid that my efficiency has suffered because of her constant chatter." There was no going back, he might as well go through with his request. His performance had suffered and that had to stop.
"Well, while it has been fun while it lasted… having the same slave for months is getting old anyway – you have my permission to kill her at your earliest convenience, Captain." Tamear was still smiling and was obviously enjoying the antagonized look Quinn gave him. The Sith stepped even closer and whispered into Quinn's ear: "That's what you want, isn't it? To kill this alien filth!"
Quinn smelled a strange smell coming from Tamear, it reminded him faintly of blood and mud.
"My Lord, Vette is an expert slicer – it would be a waste of resources to kill her. I merely hoped that you would convince her to let me do my work." Quinn didn't like the casual way in which Tamear disposed of unwanted people, secretly he thought it barbaric and even un-imperial. He valued efficiency above all. And while Quinn admired the abilities of Sith on the battlefield, he couldn't stand their often senseless murderous intent.
"Ah, you want me to do the dirty work…" jeered Tamear, still whispering in Quinn's ear. "But if you want her disciplined – permanently or otherwise – you will have to do it yourself." The Sith stroked Quinn's cheek softly. Quinn flinched and Tamears grinned even broader. "But don't forget to call me, Quinn. I wouldn't want to miss it."
"Yes my Lord," Quinn automatically replied. It wasn't the first time that Tamear had taken action that could be considered as… flirting. Quinn dealt with his advances with his usual professionalism and hoped that the Sith would lose interest after a few weeks. So far his strategy hadn't worked.
Tamear stopped caressing Quinn's cheek and left the conference room.
Quinn pinched his nose and considered his options: He could dispose of Vette like Tamear had suggested, he could 'discipline' her or he could let her pester him. Before he could make up his mind, Vette stormed into the conference room and grabbed his arm.
"Capt'n! There you are!"
Angrily he wrested himself free. "Vette, I don't have time…"
"I almost managed to break into the thyonian databanks! Come on, I'll show you!" Vette smiled nervously and grabbed his arm once again and literally dragged Quinn to her cargo room. He was curious and finally followed her without resistance. From the corner of his eye Quinn saw that Jaesa stood in the gangway to the conference room. She crossed her arms and shot them a cool look. Since she had entered Tamear's service she had changed her whole appearance, within several weeks she transformed from a meek Jedi into a ruthless Sith with a taste for excess. Quinn also didn't miss how Vette chose to oversee Jaesa, she carefully avoided even looking in her direction.
He followed Vette to the computer station and looked at her expectantly. Vette's hands trembled visibly as she touched her face with her right hand as if she wanted to swipe something from her forehead. Quinn registered that she looked ill − she had dark circles around her eyes and a pallid skin.
"Are you unwell?" Quinn asked, he even considered for a moment to lay his hand on her forehead to feel whether she had a fever. But luckily he supressed that inappropriate impulse before he could act on it.
Nobody had ever accused Quinn of being a sensible or even a tender-hearted man, but the desperate and harrowing expression that was now written on Vette's face made him shallow. The moment was over quickly however, Vette rearranged her expression and smiled a little.
"Nope, everything is fine, Capt'n," she said in a throaty voice.
"If you say so – and it's Captain Quinn. Not 'Capt'n'!"
"Aye aye, Capt'n!" she answered more vividly than before. "Let's have a look at my new programs, shall we?"
Quinn sighed and nodded finally. While he listened to her lengthy explanations he decided that he wouldn't do anything about Vette's constant babbling. There was no reason to tantalise her any further – even if it meant that his work performance had to suffer.
"Done!" exclaimed Vette and ripped the water bottle from Quinn's hands. She took a deep gulp and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
"You have your own bottle," groaned Quinn. "Did anyone tell you that it's rude to simply take a bottle – or a cup of coffee for that matter – out of somebody else's hand?"
"You're absolutely right. But the look on your face is priceless!" Vette nudged him and beamed like a bantha on a beach.
Quinn was surprised to register that he was actually amused. Perhaps he had been spending too much time with Vette. Quinn glanced on his chronometer and the map – they had to move on. He rose to his feet and walked on.
An hour later they had cleared the minefield and marched towards the location of the generator. According to imperial intelligence there were at least two republic outposts in the vicinity and there was a high probability that the generator itself was heavenly guarded my republic soldiers and CORSEC officers. The sun had set, Vette and Quinn used their night-vision-goggles and crept silently towards their goal. They dodged several republic patrols and finally the generator or rather the facility in which it was located came into sight.
Quinn zoomed in with his goggles and cursed under his breath. There were at least two platoons guarding the building. There was no way that they could approach the generator without being seen. Quinn considered his options: Dressing up as republic soldiers wouldn't work, apparently there were scanners installed on every entrance, brute force was out of the question… Vette could pose as a slave who had escaped her imperial masters and insert the spike as soon as an opportunity arose. There was a problem however: Vette had absolutely no motivation to help the Empire to win the war. No, he had to do it himself. Quinn looked at his chronometer: three hours left until the assault on the Bastion. He gestured to Vette to retreat to a ruin farther away; Quinn would have to think of a plan quickly and he had to do it before Vette could make her mind up to desert to the republic.
Quinn entered the former office building and heard how Vette followed him. Suddenly he didn't like the idea that she was behind him and turned on his heel to face Vette.
"Lead on, Vette," he whispered. To his surprise she complied without asking a single question. Quinn looked around, it seemed that the whole building was deserted. Holes in the wall indicated that there had been heavy fighting in the area and the offices were all but rubble. Vette led him to a small room farther away from the entrance and sat down casually on an office chair, she put her legs on the desk and smiled.
Quinn sat down on a chair opposite of her and eyed her – Vette didn't appear to plan to betray him. Perhaps he should make sure that she couldn't interfere and simply kill her? No, that was too extreme. Quinn drew his blaster and aimed it at Vette. She jumped up as if she wanted to flee, the smile had vanished from her face.
"I'm sorry, Vette. But I can't let you interfere with my mission." Quinn pulled handcuffs from his utility belt and threw them to Vette. "Put them on." She simply stared down at the durasteel cuffs without moving.
"Put them on!" repeated Quinn.
Vette looked up. She had an unusually stern expression on her face. "Do you really think I would betray you?"
Quinn frowned, was she toying with him? "Of course you would. This is your chance to escape Darth Tamear and Jaesa for good." He hesitated shortly before continuing. "They are always antagonising you… you would be insane not to flee."
She shackled herself and said quietly: "You don't know the half of it… Tamear killed my sister. I fantasised about killing him… him and his fucking apprentice. But of course I wouldn't stand a chance against a Sith and he knows it. He even taunts me to do it." Quinn was taken aback by Vette's harsh tone, he had never suspected that she had this murderous side.
"So I was right," Quinn replied hesitantly. He put his blaster away and took Vette's weapons.
She smiled at him and it unsettled Quinn. He had to focus on his mission! This wasn't the time…
"No, you're wrong. I said that I would betray Tamear and Jaesa without regret, I would even kill them without remorse – perhaps even Pierce. But I won't betray you."
Quinn stared at her, his confusion grew. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm a servant of the Empire like everybody else."
"Nope, you're the exception. You're the one guy who showed me some kindness in the past months. And it's sad – and also very corny – but you're actually the closest I have for a friend."
He felt very uneasy, partly because he knew that he hadn't time for this conversation and partly because Quinn felt touched against his better knowledge.
Quinn cleared his throat. "I can't take any chances, Vette. I have to fulfil my mission; at any cost." He put a bottle of water and a few food rations on the desk. He glanced at his chronometer and turned on his heel to leave.
"Take care, Capt'n!" called Vette. Quinn looked at her one last time and left.
Quinn observed the camp for about an hour when he finally saw a possibility to get the spike into the generator: several mouse-droids were rushing through the republic posts without being controlled. Quinn produced a remote and scanned for the frequencies of the droids. Mere minutes later he had isolated a mouse-droid and programmed it to drive to his location. With a whirring sound the droid approached him. The droids were too small and too primitive to deliver the spike, but there were a good distraction. Quinn quickly opened the droid and put explosives in it. He repeated the process with three other droids while sweat was running down his temples. A quick glance at the chronometer confirmed that he was running out of time: 15 minutes left until the assault. Quinn pulled a portable holo-disk from his rucksack and checked it: the device could shortly produce a disguise but it was unreliable at best and only lasted for approximately two minutes. It didn't matter, he didn't have the time to put on a real disguise – 10 minutes left.
Quinn waited shortly until the mouse-droids were in position, then he pushed a button on his remote control. Three very loud explosions shook the camp and chaos broke out. Quinn utilised the initial confusion and let the holo-disk produce a republic infantry armour around him. He rushed into the camp and frantically looked for the generator. Bleeding and screaming soldiers were lying around him, but he ignored them as he recognised the blue light of a plasma-generator coming from one of the facilities. He broke into a run and managed to attach the spike on the outer hull of the generator right before the holo-disk ran out of power. His disguise flickered shortly and vanished. Quinn exhaled, that was it – he was the only imperial in the middle of a republic base in the middle of a warzone. A quick look on his chronometer revealed that he had to distract the republic soldiers for another five minutes lest nobody would remove the spike. He drew his blaster and shot a near-by standing republic soldier who was about to lift his rifle. Quinn knew that he would last long in a firefight and besides he had simply to lure the enemy away from the generator.
Quickly he took a few grenades from the dead soldier, pulled their pins and rushed out of the building while distributing the live grenades around him. The last grenade exploded so close to him that small pieces of debris hit Quinn and caused him to trip over and fall on the ground. The dust from the explosion made him cough. The bang from the explosion rang in his ears, making him somewhat disorientated. Nevertheless Quinn struggled to get on his feet, perhaps he could still make it! But a sharp pain in his abdomen let him fall on his knees after only a few metres. The last thing he saw was the handle of a republic rifle aimed at his face – after a crippling pain at his temple Quinn lost consciousness.
xxXXxx
He resurfaced from the calm darkness with a start and gasped for air. A very bright light made Quinn squint. It took him a few seconds to recall his last conscious moments, he felt like every muscle in his body was burning. Quinn felt the urge to move and tried to get up, only to realise that his movements were hindered by heavy chains. Thoughts rushed through his head – there was no doubt that he was a prisoner and the bright lights indicated that he was about to be questioned. Quinn took another deep breath and tried to calm down. The air smelled stale and humid. The cool floor he sat on suggested that he was underground. The chains around his arms and legs were bulky and obviously industrial, that meant that he was in a makeshift prison. A bandage around his abdomen showed him that he had received at least superficial care.
Quinn shielded his eyes with his right arm from the light and recognized that two humanoids were standing before him. A nautolan woman was about to put a syringe into a box, so he had been injected with adrenals to get him talking – that meant that they needed information fast. Had the attack on the bastion already begun? Next to the nautolan sat a fair-skinned human male in a chair.
"You've been captured by CORSEC, soldier," began the man. "I would like to propose a deal: you tell us everything and we save you from your superiors – heck, we will even throw in a nice reward for helping us."
Quinn felt humiliated, he had to sit on the floor like a dog while his interrogator lolloped in his chair. He made an effort to get up, but the chains made it impossible; a quick look showed Quinn that he was bound to a heater. It had seen better days and with enough time he would be able to loosen his chains. The lights made it impossible to determine how many soldiers were in the room, he guessed that at least four opponents were present. He had to get them talking to assess the situation further.
"A peculiar offer, I have no need of being saved from my superiors," said Quinn with an even voice.
The interrogator snorted. "Come now, you almost blew up our generator and stormed single-handedly into our camp – either you're suicidal or your crazy Sith superiors wanted to kill you."
Quinn allowed himself to smile, the man in front of him was an amateur – he had already lied and compromised his position. The generators were destroyed; otherwise CORSEC wouldn't have woken him up with adrenals. The battle was probably raging on and the allied forced tried to ascertain whether the Empire had further plans to sabotage the planetary defence.
"I'm just a patriot," replied Quinn. He had to buy time; perhaps the interrogator was prone to a lengthy discussion.
"So am I, soldier. And that's why I have to know: Are the contingency plans in place for the imperial attack on the bastion?"
"I wouldn't know, I'm just a simple foot soldier."
"I've seen simple soldiers, and believe me – you aren't one of them. The way you looked around when you woke up tells me that you are a very analytical and thoughtful man. So tell me what I want to know or my colleagues have to take over."
"I thought the Republic didn't believe in torture." Quinn felt a bang of fear, although he had always considered the possibility of getting tortured very high.
"We're CORSEC, not republic forces. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't tolerate this kind of approach, but I'm Corellian and this is my planet. Your Empire is about to lay waste to my home and kill my friends. I…"
The nautolan woman frowned and said in a heavily accented basic: "He won't talk – we have to do it. Time is running out."
The man rose from his chair and looked at Quinn, the back lights made it impossible to be sure but Quinn thought that an expression of regret was written on his face. "I'm sorry, I really am."
They walked to the back of the room; Quinn tried to brace himself for whatever CORSEC had in store for him. At first Quinn had thought that he could escape, but that possibility seemed far away now. He thought fleetingly about all the interrogations he had attended during his career and the pictures that came to his mind made him nauseous. And for a fraction of a second he considered to give in, but Quinn smothered the thought as fast as possible. He would die in this basement no matter what he did, his last duty was to withstand as long as he could.
He heard footsteps and the humming of a droid. They were coming. Quinn looked at his hands, they were trembling. He clenched them into fists when a shadow fell on him. At least four more shadows joined and strong hands grabbed him and held him while his chains were mounted on a hook in the ceiling. With a yank his arms were pulled upwards until his feet lost contact with the ground. The joints in his shoulder hurt a little, but this was but a taste of what was coming.
"Let me know when you had enough, Imp!" yelled a man with a hoarse voice and a corellian accent before punching Quinn in the face. But Quinn summoned every last bit of resolve and kept his mouth shut, even after the man had beaten him up with punches that felt like he had a cybernetic hand.
"You're a though one, aren't you? But they all talk after X4-DS is through with them."
Quinn panted and tried to recognise what kind of droid was slowly approaching him – but the lights were too bright and by the humming sound alone it was impossible to prepare… A hot and sharp pain cursed through Quinn's body. He groaned and tried to think… but… A second current of electricity was sent through his system. He felt as if a needle pierced his skin in his neck and suddenly cold shivers shook him only to be interrupted by electrocution.
"Well?" asked the torturer. "Care for another round or are you going to talk?"
Thoughts and feelings rumbled through Quinn's head, he was disorientated and confused. He had to concentrate. Quinn opened his mouth to speak and only then he realised that he had bitten himself in his lip, the metallic taste of blood was in his mouth and he felt how small drops of blood ran down his jaw as he muttered: "I will talk as soon as you let me…"
"Not a chance, you will spill your beans right now or X4-DS goes in a higher setting."
Quinn didn't answer. The next time the agony returned it was more intense and made him scream at the top of his lungs. After a few shocks he mercifully lost consciousness.
xxXXxx
When he came to the first thing he registered was that the pain in his shoulder joints was almost unbearable, every fibre of his body eradicated anguish. Quinn groaned and opened his eyes, only to be blinded by the bright lights. He couldn't take it any longer, he had to… no, he had to fulfil his duty.
Quinn expected to hear the hoarse voice of his torturer, a taunt perhaps, but everything remained silent. Then he heard two sets of footsteps, somebody in a heavy armour and light ones. Quinn acted like he was still unconscious and let himself go limp. Why hadn't they used adrenals to wake him up? Was the battle over? Did they come to kill him?
"That's him, right? The Imperial you were talking about?" asked the first interrogator.
"Y… Yeah, I think so," replied a female voice. Quinn had to summon every bit of resolve not to jerk his head up: There was no mistaking this voice – Vette was standing in front of him. Quinn kept his eyes shut – he had to ascertain what she was doing here: Probably she provided the allied forces with information in exchange for a safe passage into republic space. Quinn wasn't surprised, he had assumed that Vette's assertion of her not 'betraying' him had been a lie.
"You're not sure? Listen, either it's the imp you know or he isn't!"
"There is blood all over his face – I need to get a look at it," said Vette hesitantly.
The heavy footsteps indicated that the interrogator approached him. Quinn had to suppress every instinct to flinch when the man grabbed his chin and roughly held Quinn's face up.
"Well?"
"Captain Malavai Quinn, he serves under Darth Tamear. He is part of Tamear's personal crew and his closest tactical advisor." Vette's voice sounded hateful. "He is one of my captors, a filthy imperial pig!"
The hand left his face and Quinn let his head hang – but the movement caused him too much agony to keep his act up. He groaned silently.
"It seems that he's awake," remarked the interrogator. "Ah, he is in our databanks. Impressive résumé you got there… Pleasure to make your acquaintance Captain Quinn – I'm sure we will soon talk again."
Quinn wanted to show them that he wasn't broken yet and tried to look at them with a defiant stare, but the lights seemed even brighter than before and hurt his eyes. Quinn had to avert his gaze and gritted his teeth.
"Mind if I talk to him alone? I want to thank him for the imperial hospitality he showed me," spit Vette.
"No way, I can't let you hurt the prisoner any further – it's bad enough that we…" began the interrogator to Quinn's surprise, but he was interrupted by the voice of the torturer.
"Spare me your hypocrisy! We just worked on him for an hour – and yet he's alive. A little chat with the Twi'lek won't hurt him. Let's give them a little private time, shall we?"
"That's not who we are…" replied the first man in an agitated voice.
"That's an order, Lieutenant!"
"Yes, sir!"
The parting footsteps led Quinn to believe that the CORSEC-officers had left. The realisation that he was now alone with Vette and that she was about to tantalize him hit the Captain. Only now he realised that he had always considered Vette a gentle being. He felt a strange discomfort in his chest, it was fear… but not entirely. There was also another uncommon sensation that took hold of him.
Vette approached him, Quinn tried to peek again but the lights made it impossible. He cringed and tried to turn his head away as he felt a hand on his cheek. He attempted to brace himself for the expected punches. His breath quickened and a surge of pain cursed through his body due to the abrupt movement of his head.
"Relax, it's just me – Vette," she said and touched his cheek again. This time Quinn didn't flinch.
"I heard what you told my captors," he whispered with a coarse voice. "Get it over with, I'm finished anyway."
"What? No! I'm here to help you, you dork!" exclaimed Vette.
Quinn was confused and didn't answer. He heard how she stepped away, a few seconds later the chains rattled and Quinn felt how he was lowered on the floor. He groaned as his shoulder joints were unburdened, it felt like they were dislocated. He hadn't any strength left and collapsed on the ground. Light footsteps closed in on him.
"Come on, we have to get out of here before these CORSEC-guys realise that their imperial prisoner is on the loose," said Vette in a low voice. She grasped Quinn around his waist and tried in vain to get the Captain to stand on his own feet.
The exertion alone almost made Quinn lose consciousness. A wave of anguish washed over him and felt sick enough to throw up. "I… I can't…" he groaned. Quinn had always prided himself on his excellent self-control – and now he was reduced to this!
Vette kneeled down in front of him and took his face in her hands. He was taken aback by his intimate gesture and for the first time he looked Vette straight in the face. Her features appeared very hard in the harsh light. Quinn gulped; she had the look of a very determined woman on her face. Gone was the playful or even naïve expression she usually wore and only now Quinn fully realised that there was a high possibility that it had been a mask all along.
"Wait here, I have to arrange a transport for us otherwise we will never escape," she said with a firm and commanding voice. Vette let go of him and hurried out of the room. Quinn still felt her warm hands on his face and wondered shortly why he trusted Vette to come back. Cautiously he touched his left shoulder with his right hand, Quinn wanted to ascertain whether it was really dislocated. The pain was excruciating, but it seemed that his joints were unharmed. Quinn tried to get up, but his legs didn't support his weight. This would not do, he had to get up! He was about to try one more time when he heard heavy footsteps approaching. Quinn gritted his teeth and got up, he stumbled towards the lights – but a sharp pain in his lower abdomen brought him down and he fell right in front of his first interrogator as he entered the room.
"What the…" exclaimed the CORSEC-officer, but before he could finish the sentence Vette appeared behind him and took him into a headlock. The man gargled and struggled against the grip, finally he managed to grab Vette and threw her over his shoulder. The officer reached for his blaster but his right hand only found an empty holster. Vette had managed to snatch the weapon, she span the gun in her hand and shot the man in the head. Quinn was amazed, he had always known that Vette was a very skilled gunslinger but the way she had disarmed the interrogator was most impressive. She span the blaster again and put it expertly in one of her previously empty holsters.
"Can you walk, Quinn? I pulled up with a speeder right in front of the entrance, but we have to move fast."
He tried again to rise to his feet, and finally he managed to stand on his own feet, but only shortly. Quinn almost fell on the ground, but Vette came to his aid and supported him.
"The electroshocks most likely numbed my legs… How far is it to the speeder?" Quinn felt a strange comfort and security as Vette stood next to him. Close proximity wasn't something he usually cherished, but now…
"Too far for you to walk in your condition, we…"
In this very moment two CORSEC-soldiers walked into the room, they had probably heard the commotion and wanted to check on the prisoner. Quinn realised that Vette would be too slow to draw her blaster since she was supporting him. He ignored the agony that spread like a fire through his arm up to his shoulder and grabbed Vette's blaster from her holster on the hip and shot the first of the soldiers before he could raise his rifle. The second managed to draw his blaster and shot at them, he only missed because Vette had pushed Quinn aside and they both let themselves fall to the ground. Vette had a better line of sight than him – Quinn threw her the blaster and Vette caught it skilfully in mid-air, spun it shortly in her hand and fired several bolts at the remaining soldier. The man dropped dead.
"Fuck it, we won't die in this hole!" shouted Vette and ran towards Quinn who still lay on the floor trying to catch his breath. With her help he soon stood on his feet again, but Vette obviously had no intention on counting on his probably damaged nervous system and took him in a fireman's carry. By the stars! How could a scrawny little Twi'lek possess such a strength? Vette panted and groaned as she hurried down the hallway to the exit. A few metres before they reached the door she finally collapsed, both fell heavily on the ground. Quinn got up as fast as possible and limped towards a blue speeder which was parked right outside the exit. Vette overtook him and jumped onto the vehicle, Quinn sat on the saddle behind her. She started the engine and kicked it up in the highest gear and drove with an almost insane speed towards the gates of the camps. Several soldiers had started to shoot at them, chaos broke out in the small camp.
"Hold on!" Vette yelled and accelerated even more. Quinn pressed himself against her body, there was only one way out: the main gate which was barred with a toll bar. The speeder was an Aratech Lancer – very low and very fast; the question was however whether it was low enough to fit under the toll bar. As the bar drew nearer Quinn realised that they wouldn't make it, it was probably only a matter of a few centimetres but they were not low enough… It seemed that the CORSEC- and republic forces had stopped shooting at them, they knew that Quinn and Vette would probably die should they race right into the barrier. Quinn grabbed Vette harder and right before they crashed into the toll bar she tore the speeder around in a 90° angle. The sharp curve caused the speeder to tilt so hard to the left side that Vette's knee made contact with the ground. She screamed but they managed to slide trough under the toll bar and with another sharp curve Vette stabilised the speeder and raced away from the camp.
Vette mafficked and shouted: "Fuck yes! In your face!"
Quinn was completely thrilled and laughed wholeheartedly, his weakened state momentarily forgotten. "You did it, Vette! We're free!" But as soon as these words left his mouth Quinn realised that they weren't completely accurate: Only he had been freed – Vette had been free before she saved him.
After a few kilometres Vette slowed down and drove into a bombed garage. Quinn took a close look at the vicinity. So far they hadn't seen any signs of other sentient beings. The garage was dark and damp, rubble had fallen on the vehicles parked there. The sweetish stench of rot indicated that there were bodies buried under the debris. Quinn knew that they had to move soon – not only because their temporary hide-out was probably crawling with infectious diseases but also because the allied forces must have sent a search party after them. The problem was however that they were both injured and they needed rest and an opportunity to patch up their wounds.
Vette drove the speeder behind a large pile of rubble and turned the engine off. Quinn cautiously dismounted, and a dull pain seared through his body. He was about to throw up, he leaned against a pillar and took a deep breath – the nausea receded. Quinn heard how Vette cursed under her breath; she was still sitting on the speeder and inspected her left knee. Quinn limped closer to get a look at the extent of her injury. Vette's trousers were torn around the knee, the skin was scraped but apparently it was only a superficial wound. Nevertheless in this environment the risk of an infection was very high.
"Do you have any kolto?" Quinn asked, he sat next to Vette on the speeder.
"Sure, but it's not that much – just my personal supply," she replied and pulled a kolto injector from her bag. She handed it to Quinn. "Knock yourself out; you're the medic here after all."
He checked the injector and adjusted it with the right dosage, he registered that his right hand was trembling slightly. Quinn frowned, the aftereffects of the torture disquieted him. Were his nerves damaged? Absentmindedly he applied the kolto on Vette's knee, only to be startled when she protested: "What are you doing?"
Quinn was confused. "I'm vetting you. What's the matter, does it hurt? The kolto should…"
"You are a mess – and you're wasting kolto on my scratch? Give me that!" Vette snatched the injector from his hands and looked at him with a strange glint in her eyes.
He was obviously still confused, Vette was right – his priorities were not logical. "You are correct, I'm sorry, that was unprofessional of me."
Vette smiled. "Hey, whatever, Capt'n. Here – let me help with your shirt." She helped to get him out of his uniform jacket and started to open his previously white, now bloodied shirt without waiting for his response.
Quinn felt uncomfortable to say the least, but the agony in his shoulders was too great to do it himself. Vette gasped as she saw the full extent of his injuries. He looked down and saw exactly what he had anticipated: his torso was covered in bruises, the blaster wound had opened again and blood was seeping from the bandage. Several burn marks indicated where the interrogation droid had applied its devices. It was nothing he hadn't already seen on republic prisoners. Quinn lifted his gaze and was surprised to see something akin to sadness written on Vette's face. She stared at his bare chest, finally she looked up and glanced at him before averting her gaze.
Vette calibrated the injector and began to vet him. Quinn flinched sometimes when he felt how her fingers made contact with his skin. It wasn't pain that caused him to react in that way – it was the same strange feeling he had experienced when she touched his face back in the republic base. Come to think of it; he had thought that Vette wanted to punish him for the way she has been treated in the Empire… he would've understood that in a way. But what he couldn't comprehend was her willingness to risk her life to rescue him from the CORSEC-prison. Even if she considered him a 'friend'; it was illogical. Suddenly Quinn realised that he hadn't even thanked her.
He cleared his throat. "Vette, I want to thank you for your actions. You saved me from imprisonment."
Vette shortly looked him in the eyes and then continued to treat his injuries. "No Prob, Captn'. I'm just repaying my debts."
"Debts? I'm not aware that I have done something so substantial that it would justify…" Quinn began but Vette interrupted him.
"Really? Have you forgotten about Taris?"
"Vette, come over here," shouted Tamear, "go to the Endar Spire crash site and observe whether the Pirates are planning another attack on this outpost!" The Sith, Pierce and Quinn had just been debriefed by the commander of the outpost and were still standing in his office.
Vette appeared at the door with a weary expression on her face. "Yes my Lord." She denoted a bow and was about to leave when Quinn spoke up.
"My Lord, is it wise to send Vette alone? Perhaps Lieutenant Pierce should accompany her?"
Pierce shot him a nasty look; Tamear just laughed. "I trust in her abilities to survive, Captain."
Quinn thought it was reckless to send only one soldier for a recon mission but he simply bowed and accepted Tamear's decision.
Several hours later the sun began to set; Quinn stood by the main gate and was about to inquire whether Vette had already returned when he saw someone staggering towards the outpost. Although the light was already dim he recognised Vette's figure immediately. The guards drew their weapons, but Quinn gestured at them to put them down. He wanted to walk towards Vette, but as she drew nearer he saw that she was bleeding from various cuts on her right arm. Had she been bitten by rakghouls?
He hesitated shortly and approached her despite the danger of infection.
"Vette, have you been bitten?" he asked as soon as he reached her.
"Hi Captn'," replied Vette weakly, "I haven't been bitten, but a rakghoul scratched me. I'm not feeling too well…" With these words she collapsed.
Quinn arranged for her to be put into the isolation ward at the medbay to determine if she was infected by the rakghoul virus and whether she would turn into one of them eventually. When he returned from the briefing with Tamear Quinn discovered that nobody had treated Vette's wounds. It turned out that the medical personnel was too scared to enter the room, the test on the rakghoul virus had been inconclusive.
"That's ridiculous! If her wounds aren't treated Vette could get an infection and die of a simple sepsis!" Quinn stood in front of the responsible doctor and almost couldn't supress his anger.
"But sir! You can't expect anybody to risk an infection – she is only an alien after all."
"Very well, I will take care of her myself!" Quinn grabbed medical supplies and entered the room, banging the door behind him shut. Vette lay unconscious on a bed, she looked pale and feverish. He stared at her for a few seconds, and said quietly: "It's going to be alright…" Then he started the treatment.
"I haven't forgotten Taris," replied Quinn. "But that was hardly the same as storming an entire republic base single-handedly. Besides, I didn't know that you were aware of my presence at that time."
"Well, I woke up in the middle of the night once. You sat beside my bed and filled out some charts. I gathered that you were the only medic crazy enough to stay in the same room as me."
"It was my duty," answered Quinn curtly. He didn't like the direction in which this conversation was heading. It confused him to think about his rather irrational behaviour back then – he had exposed himself to a deadly virus without second thought… but it had been his duty as imperial officer to take care of his subordinates, hadn't it?
Vette had used the last bit of kolto to threat Quinn's injuries and took a bandage from her bag. She began to wrap it around his torso. Vette had a contemplative expression on her face. After she had fixed him up she helped him to get into his shirt and his jacket again. It was unusual that Vette remained quiet for such a long time. There had been times in which he had cherished the silence, but strangely enough it bothered him now. Was Vette more injured than she let on? He glanced at her, but he couldn't discern any other wounds than the one on her knee.
"If you put it that way… I also just did my duty," said Vette. She rose to her feet and started to walk back and forth while knitting her hands. Finally she turned towards Quinn and stared at him in a challenging way.
Quinn frowned. "Care to elaborate on that?"
"I freed myself about an hour after you left and decided to surrender myself to the republic and CORSEC-forces at the nearest outpost. When I arrived there I saw that you had successfully carried out the attack – I thought that you had left already and told the guards that I knew who was responsible for the sabotage to get away. They got really excited and the commander took me to the interrogation room." Vette hesitated before she continued her tale. She resumed her pacing. "But when I saw you hanging there… I decided that you didn't deserve such a fate – not after everything you have done for me. Even if it was just your professional duty; it meant a lot to me. And I consider it my duty as your friend to make sure that you… well, that you're alright." She stopped and blushed a little.
Quinn was amazed by her words. He opened his mouth to reply but nothing came to mind and so he just closed it again. After a few moments of contemplation he started another try. "Erm… I don't know what to say, Vette. I… I didn't realise that it meant so much to you."
"That's because you are – as already stated – a dork!" replied Vette, a smile played about her lips.
Quinn shot her an indignant look. "Beg your pardon?"
"I grew up in a slave camp and in the streets of Nar Shaddaa. The people I dealt with weren't bad or mean – but I learned that I couldn't count on anybody besides myself. It was fine, everybody knew that in the end everyone only cared for himself. These were the rules. You don't have to be a keen observer of human nature to see what it meant for somebody like me to meet somebody who wasn't indifferent whether I was well or not. Okay, that was a very sappy story and an even sappier conclusion – I hope you're satisfied."
For a second time Quinn was at a loss for words. He was used to process data and information, but he couldn't cope with Vette's statement. She had actually been serious when she told him earlier that she wouldn't betray him! A lump formed in his throat and he gulped to get it away. He had to focus on the current situation!
"I appreciate your sentiment, Vette," Quinn said as calmly as possible. "Under these circumstances I also consider you a… friend. Although I'm not sure if I will live up to the definition of this concept." To his own surprise he felt how he felt heat crawl up his cheeks.
"Hey, the most stuck-up imperial I've ever met has admitted that he doesn't hate my alien guts – I'm good." Vette gave him a lopsided grin and Quinn smiled back.
Before they could continue their conversation Quinn heard how heavy machinery approached them. He and Vette ducked behind a large pile of rubble and peeked at a republic AT-TE Walker passing the building they were hiding in. A squadron of soldiers followed the Walker, but none of them entered the garage. As they lay next to each other observing their opponents Quinn realised how close Vette was; her elbow almost touched his. Before he could stop himself he moved his hand towards hers. Only a few centimetres before he made contact with Vette Quinn froze. He still stared at her, unable to comprehend why he felt a sudden iron grip around his heart.
Collateral damage. That was what he had thought back in the imperial headquarters. Vette had the opportunity to escape but she chose to save him and destroyed any hopes that she could go back to the Republic. But she couldn't go back to the Empire with him, she wouldn't survive in the long term – Tamear would make sure of that.
Quinn turned his attention again to the enemy soldiers and they quietly observed how the last of them left the area. Out of habit he wanted to glance at his chronometer, but of course it had been taken from him. For a strange reason that upset him more than it should have and he frowned.
"It's half past three," said Vette. "You have quite a compulsive-obsessive disorder with time, Capt'n."
"I merely wondered whether we could make it back to the imperial camp before the sun sets," Quinn answered with his usual slightly arrogant intonation. He regretted the way he had answered instantly. "Erm, what I meant to say was thank you, Vette."
She didn't answer to his last statement and rummaged instead in her bag. Finally she pulled two food bars out and handed one of them to Quinn. He took it and they ate in silence next to each other. A rather large wombrat scurried from one pile of rubble to another but neither of them reacted. Quinn followed the rodent with his eyes and thought about their next course of action. He realised that he continued thinking in plural…
"Do you even want to go back?" he asked after he had eaten the last bit of the food bar.
"I don't think that I can show my face near any CORSEC or republic outposts anymore," replied Vette wearily. She smiled sadly and took a small stone and played with it shortly before throwing it away and knitting her hands together.
"Well… you could try to find another resistance group and…" Quinn began, but Vette interrupted him.
"We are in the middle of a warzone and I don't have any more supplies. It could be days or even weeks before I find a place to stay. Nah, I'm afraid you're stuck with me." A faint spark of her former blithely self resurfaced for a moment on her face, and she beamed at him.
"Vette, I'm sorry…"
"Hey, it's alright – I knew that I was doing, okay? Just remember my good deeds the next time Tamear sends me on a suicide mission and I'm in need of a medic afterwards."
Quinn stared at her, and contemplated shortly whether he should tell her that she could count on… No, that wasn't him. He was just weakened and confused – probably an aftereffect of the torture. It was of utmost importance that he kept his cool.
"I will," he replied curtly and rose to his feet. "We will leave the speeder here and try to sneak back into imperial territory."
"Aye Capt'n!"
The twilight made it almost impossible to discern the wires from the permacrete mine, Vette tried to use her chronometer to illuminate the insides of the mine as well as possible. Finally Quinn managed to find the right wires and disarmed it. He swiped his sweaty face with his sleeve and groaned as he stood up. Despite the kolto a dull pain seared through his body every time he moved too fast.
Suddenly he felt a firm grip around his arm and Vette said next to him: "We're almost there."
He simply nodded and they left the mine field behind them. Darkness began to set in as they approached the imperial outpost. Quinn slowed his pace until and finally turned to face Vette. They were almost in range of sight, he knew that this was Vette's last chance to turn around.
"Vette…"
"Yes?" She looked at him full of expectation. Gone was the hard look on her face that she had worn in the republic base.
Quinn hesitated, but then he spoke up: "Are you sure about this? You know that I can't protect you from Tamear or from Jaesa for that matter. Were you a soldier… I could request a transfer… but…"
Vette smiled a little and blinked a few times. "You're sweet when you stammer, Capt'n. One could actually mistake you for a human being."
Quinn blushed and stepped a little closer. He lifted his right hand to touch her, Quinn felt – strangely enough – the indomitable urge to caress her face. Something had to be wrong with him… at the last moment he changed the direction of his hand and patted her shoulder awkwardly. Vette had a bewildered look on her face.
He cleared his throat and mumbled to his own surprise: "I don't dislike you, Vette."
Vette frowned: "What? What did you say?" It appeared that she hadn't heard him due to his mumbling.
"Nothing, it's not important," he replied hasty and turned on his heel and strode towards the outpost. A strange mixture of joy and sorrow took hold of Quinn as he walked past the guard who saluted him. He was home at last. But he dreaded the debriefing with Tamear – would his punishment be over? Or would he send him and Vette to another suicide mission? Quinn walked straight to the headquarters – he didn't want to delay the inevitable by washing the blood from his face or changing into a new uniform. He was ready to face the Sith! In the end it didn't matter, he decided as he briskly opened the door to Tamear's office. He was an imperial soldier and he would…
Quinn never finished his thought, instead he stared at a very young Lieutenant who sat on Tamear's chair and shifted through data pads which were lying on the desk. She looked up and launched immediately into a salute.
"Sir!"
"At ease, Lieutenant."
She relaxed and had a relieved expression on her face. Quinn heard how somebody entered the office. He spun around and saw that Vette had followed him. He turned his attention again to the Lieutenant.
"Do you have clearance for this intel?" he asked sharply and pointed at the data pads and a map with all imperial troop movement.
"Sir! As the highest ranking officer I have taken command as soon as Lord Tamear had fallen along with his officers!"
Quinn's mind went blank for a fraction of a second and behind him he could hear how Vette exclaimed: "By the fucking starlights!"
"Lord Tamear is dead? Did he die during the attack on the Bastion?" He couldn't believe his ears, Tamear dead!
"The attack cost us dearly, sir. But the Lord died after the battle – a preliminary report says that he and his apprentice accidently stepped on a mine. It seemed that he was… misinformed about the location of a republic minefield…"
Quinn didn't miss the last piece of information and neither the slightly hesitant way it was conveyed. He stepped closer to the Lieutenant and said with a low voice: "Dismissed."
She saluted. "Sir!"
Quinn leaned against the desk and exhaled. Tamear was gone… He had always known that he wouldn't grieve should the Sith die, but the relief that washed over him made him feel disrespectful.
"If I may…"
He turned around and saw that the Lieutenant was standing beside the door, her hand already on the doorknob. She had a fierce look on her face.
"Speak freely," he commanded.
"I wanted to express my own and my comrade's gratitude that you protested against the plan to attack the Bastion. It's good that you're taking command now."
"Duly noted," replied Quinn in his usual stuck-up way. He was glad that the shock and relief he felt weren't noticeable to someone who didn't know him well.
The Lieutenant left. Vette approached him and let herself fall into Tamear's or rather his chair.
"What a crazy day, huh?" She leaned back and yawned.
"Indeed," replied Quinn and began to arrange the data pads in three neat staples. It was of utmost importance that he gained an overview over the imperial troops and their losses in the attack.
"Are you seriously gonna work now?" asked Vette.
Only now he registered how weary and beaten up Vette looked. Dust and dirt covered her clothes and her trousers were bloody. He probably looked even worse.
"It's my duty," he retorted. "The imperial…"
Vette rolled her eyes. "By the stars! We are going to take a shower, pal – now!"
"Perhaps you're not mistaken," he admitted reluctantly as he looked down at his torn and bloodied uniform.
"Come on then." Vette stood up and went to the door, Quinn followed her after glancing at the chronometer on the desk. He was absorbed in laying out a timetable for his next actions until he stepped out of the headquarter. A cool evening breeze almost made him freeze, but it dispelled the smell of kolto, blood and iron that usually hung over the outpost.
Quinn inhaled deeply, closed his eyes for a moment and finally followed Vette.