Chapter 10: Black Talon, Black Heart
The Black Talon
The Apprentice
Since the dawn of the Galactic Republic millennia ago, interstellar travel technology had progressed to amazing heights. Long ago, civilization had been forced to rely upon massive and expensive hyperspace cannons and poorly mapped hyperspace lanes to spread across the stars. This had led to many ships becoming lost for all eternity to the void when even the most infinitesimal error in calculations were made in the case of the latter, and many exploratory vessels being accidently fired into suns, black holes, or the surface of unexpected planetoids in the case of the former. These days the galaxy now enjoyed the benefits of thoroughly explored lanes and fast hyperdrives mounted on every ship, whether it be commercial or private. Yet while the technology to travel farther and faster was ever advancing with each passing year, some things never advanced enough for some people's liking.
After all, Emron mused, one could only meditate upon the Sith Code so many times before boredom began to sink in.
While he logically knew that he should be thankful for the respite that the past few days aboard the Black Talon had provided, along with the opportunities to continue his training, especially in the area where his mental shields were concerned, a Sith always hungered for action. The call to war was in their very nature, with martial traditions often being instilled within prospectives before they could even walk.
He could manage until the arrival on Dromund Kaas, however.
Ship-to-ship combat was far too impersonal, let alone dangerous, for his tastes, with men dying in moments, blown out into the cold abyss by a hull breach caused by massive turbolasers mounted on an enemy vessel thousands of kilometers away, or vaporized within cockpits as their fighters and bombers were destroyed by an opponent they never saw coming, and they were the lucky ones. The unlucky ones were the ones who died a slow death to asphyxiation when the life support systems were destroyed, or were cooked alive whilst performing damage control.
No, he decided, he was happy to leave those brave or foolhardy enough to volunteer for such tasks to their duties and focus on his blade work, vastly preferring the . It was a shame that there was no one aboard the Talon to spar with; he had no desire to become even the slightest bit rusty in his skills and training routines could only do so much. The only souls aboard beside the crew were Vette and himself, and while Imperial Marines were given some rudimentary hand-to-hand training should the need to repel enemy boarders arise, they were no match for a Sith, apprentice or not. He had no idea what level of skill Vette had with a vibroblade, but he was sure that given her inclination towards thievery she was more interested in stealth rather than kicking down doors and slicing enemies into tiny bits, so training with her was out of the question.
Emron let out a small sigh as he turned the lightsaber that he held in his hands over for what was most likely the thousandth time that day. He had no idea why he had allowed the alien to join him on his trip to Dromund Kaas. A small portion of his brain tried to rationalize his act, claiming that the Twi'lek had proven herself useful back in the tomb of Naga Sadow, and that Baras most likely expected him to keep her around. Yet the man had never explicitly stated such, let alone implied it, and now that he had a proper weapon to use instead of an ancient warblade, he doubted he would require a tagalong. At worst she would be a hindrance during a fight, at best another body to put between himself and his foes. Given her lack of military training and patchwork knowledge of fighting, Emron leaned towards the former being the more likely scenario.
Fortunately, it seemed that the Force itself had decided that Emron had suffered in boredom long enough to satiate its fickle whims as the sound of knocking pervaded the cramped room. Reaching out briefly with the Force, he could ascertain that the individual doing the knocking was not Vette coming to pester him again with her endless questions about his time on Korriban.
Thank the Force for small miracles, he thought and he pushed himself up from his kneeling position on the bare durasteel floor. His cabin was the same as any other crewmember's on the Talon, which was to say, lavishly decorated with a bunk and metal walls. The captain of the ship, one Revinal Orzik, had offered the use of his captain's suite when Emron had come aboard, but he had declined, stating that he was more used to ascetic quarters after so long of Sith training.
Ignoring the ache in his knees caused by hours of meditation, he opened the door to reveal a visibly nervous ensign awaiting him.
"My Lord, your 'droid claims to have a message waiting for your perusal in the conference room," the man stammered out.
"My 'droid?" Emron asked, eyebrow arching.
"Yes, my Lord. We picked it up on Geonosis before our arrival at Vaiken Spacedock," the ensign rushed out, clearly fearing that he had upset the Sith in some fashion and was about to be reduced to an unpleasant stain on the nearest hard surface.
"I see, I shall be along shortly to see what it has to say," Emron said before making a dismissive gesture, to which the shivering man was all too happy to comply with. "Curious," he mumbled as the door hissed shut in front of him.
Baras never mentioned a 'droid, let alone a 'droid of my own. And why am I only just now being notified of this? This seems like something that should have been mentioned the moment I set foot on this ship. Another twisting and weaving plot courtesy of Baras, or does someone else have their eyes on me?
Reopening the door, he set off to find Vette and the conference room, mind racing. Whatever was about to happen, Emron was sure that the last thing it was going to be was boring.
"So let me get this straight, there's some 'droid claiming to be yours running around this ship, except you have no idea it's yours?"
"Yes." The questions had started before the Twi'lek had even made it out the door of her cabin, and now, with the two of them more than half way to the conference room, they still showed no sign of stopping.
"And now you're dragging me into this?"
"That about sums it up." It was all Emron could do to keep himself from letting out a gust of frustration. Force, does she never run out of breath? Is there some sort of quirk in Twi'lek biology that I ended up sleeping through in my xenoanatomy lessons back on Ziost?
"Why, if I may ask?"
"It amuses me, that's why."
"Weirdo."
His response either satisfied her curiosity or the alien was mustering up another round of questions for him, but Emron reveled in the resulting silence all the same, peace once more returning to the oppressively-gray corridors that crisscrossed the Black Talon. Apparently the drudgery of the past few days had left Vette just as bored as he had, something that had rapidly manifested in the form of rapid-fire, often inane, inquiries about anything and everything.
Glancing at Vette out of the corner of his eye, however, showed that the Twi'lek had not entirely sedentary, as opposed to him, as a second blaster pistol hung from her hip, a newfound companion to the one he had given her back on Korriban. He was tempted to ask where she had found the weapon, but given the remarkable resemblance it had to standard Imperial-issue side arms combined with the large amounts of scratches where the Imperial insignia would normally be found, Emron figured that such a question would be rather redundant.
This time, he did let out a small sigh of exasperation. At least she wasn't caught, I suppose. And no one is really going to challenge a Sith over such a small matter. I hope.
Turning the corner into the conference room, the pair saw a protocol 'droid standing in front of a long durasteel table that had a built-in holoprojector device, busily typing into a wrist-mounted 'puter. Emron repressed a slight shiver at the sight. Protocol 'droids became more and more sentient-looking with each generation, and while he supposed there were some benefits in regards to social settings, he still found the whole thing faintly disturbing.
"And who might you be?" he asked as he walked up to the 'droid.
The 'droid swung its head up to look at him, eyes glowing an ominous yellow as the optics within zoomed in to take in Emron's figure.
"Identity confirmed," the 'droid spoke in a monotone voice that carried faint undertones of amusement, as if its logic capacitators were privy to a joke that the rest of the world was ignorant to. "Greetings, my Lord. I am Imperial protocol 'droid NR-02. My primary functions are diplomacy, translation, manslaughter, and calumniation. It is my pleasure to meet you."
Emron smiled internally, making sure to keep his face carefully neutral. I wonder how many times those four functions have coincided with each other.
"I have an urgent message from my master at Imperial High Command. Please grant him all the attention you would any loyal servant of the Empire."
With that, the holoprojector crackled to life, portraying a scarred figure Emron never thought he would have the privilege of seeing, never mind speaking to.
"Grand Moff Kilran," Emron breathed out. What could the infamous 'Butcher of Coruscant' possibly want from me, out here in the middle of nowhere?
"Yes, that is what I am usually called, among many other things, some of which are unrepeatable in respectable company," came the response. Kilran spoke in crisp, cultured tones that spoke of centuries of old nobility, wealth, and careful breeding. A fitting match for the freshly-pressed gray Moff's uniform that the man wore, tastefully decorated with a few medals. The uniform and closely cropped hair only served to accentuate the heavily scarred side of his face. "And you are Darth Baras' newest apprentice, if my intelligence is correct. It is correct, yes?"
"Indeed, Grand Moff."
"Good, I would hardly wish to ask such a delicate favor from the wrong individual."
Favor? What in the name of the Force have I found myself in now? "Grand Moff?" he asked.
"I need someone who can procure an individual of great value to the Empire, and you are the most capable person that NR-02 was able to find on such short notice. You see, two days ago Republic warships illegally trespassed into Imperial-held space and retrieved the individual in question. Scans taken during the ensuing skirmish show that the ship carrying the passenger suffered damage to its hyperdrive. Not enough to prevent it from making an emergency jump, mind you, but enough to keep the ship from making it back to Republic space. Now it has dropped out of hyperspace to enact repairs, leaving itself vulnerable."
"And what does this have to do with me?" Emron asked with a sinking feeling in his gut. Looks like there will be some excitement after all. Just not the kind I prefer.
"I contacted the captain of the Talon just now, seeing how his ship is the only one capable of intercepting the Republic warship before it completes the needed repairs and escapes our grasp," Kilran explained. "Unfortunately, all other available ships are tied down interdicting Republic reinforcements. Captain Orzik, however, declined to fulfill the task set before him, stating that the Talon would be incapable of completing the role."
"Allow me to guess, you need me to set him straight in his priorities?"
"Exactly."
"Alert," NR-02's head swung around to face the doorway of the conference room, "Captain Orzik has just placed the ship under full lockdown, and is refusing all of my attempts at communication."
Lockdown, hm? No doubt the good Captain anticipated Kilran contacting me, and is attempting to prevent me from doing anything rash with the threat of lethal force.
"Well, that seems to settle it then. Can I count on you to do your duty to the Empire, Sith?" Kilran asked.
Not much of a choice, now is there? Emron thought. Looks like Baras is going to have to wait, though I highly doubt he'll be happy, let alone understanding, in the slightest about this delay.
"You can count on it," he assured the Moff.
"Excellent. NR-02 will assist you in this task and will keep me updated. Good hunting." With that, the image cut off.
"You sure know how to have a good time, don't you?" Vette asked.
"Let's just get this over with," Emron returned.
"I have imbedded myself into the security systems of the ship, and will be able to make our passage to the bridge much smoother. Please follow me," NR-02 said as it shuffled out of the room.
With one last glance at the holoprojector, Emron walked out after the 'droid, Vette right behind him.
"What can you tell me about this Republic warship that we're supposed to be intercepting?" Emron asked NR-02 as the trio hurried down a long corridor. The 'droid had proven its worth multiple times over by suppressing alarms, opening sealed bulkheads, and redirecting security teams that attempted to intercept them. Emron was grateful for that, the last thing he was keen on doing was slaughtering loyal Imperial soldiers who were unaware of the situation at hand.
Force knows we have enough odds stacked against us, no need to tip them even more in favor of the Republic by killing all the marines.
The 'droid never took its optics off the wrist 'puter as it answered him, "The Republic ship has been identified as the Brentaal Star, a Thranta-class corvette. Telemetry received from defending Imperial ships indicated it sustained a series of blows to its engines, hyperdrive, and primary armaments during the battle, in addition to losing almost a quarter of its starfighter compliment. I estimate our chances of success to be around 68.9264%."
Not as bad as I initially feared then, if the damage was so extensive. Still, the Talon is only a transport, not a warship.
"And the Talon's capabilities?" he pressed. He needed to know, if only to reassure himself.
"Five turbolasers, eight Mark VI Supremacy-class starfighters, and two assault shuttles."
So much for reassurance, he thought as they turned the corner to another corridor. Still, their munitions should be mostly expended thanks to the prior engagement, and Imperial fighter pilots have always been better than their Republic counterparts. We have the advantage, small as it is.
"Alert," NR-02 said as it drew itself to a sudden halt. Vette let out a short curse as she barely stopped herself from crashing into the 'droid. "There is a security team defending the entrance to the bridge, and they will not leave their posts without express permission from the Captain himself. His holo codes are heavily encrypted, and the time required to decrypt them would negatively affect our chances at intercepting the Star. Engagement is necessary."
Or you just want the chance to blow away a few organics. Fek, I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, Emron thought as he pulled his lightsaber off his belt. He noticed Vette doing the same with her blasters out of the corner of his eye, but it was the device that had emerged from NR-02's left forearm that grabbed his attention.
It looked as if someone with far too much time on their hands had set a mad doctor's torture device, a flamethrower, and a blaster side-by-side, and then decided that the only way to pass said time was to strap them all together into one weapon. Needles haphazardly sprouted here and there, occasionally dripping with an ominously glowing green sludge. A tiny pilot flame burned underneath them, creating a foul stench whenever a droplet of ooze fell into it, and two barrels ran parallel down the device, flanking the sides of the contraption.
Most likely the device was a means to bringing down whoever or whatever Kilran fancied at the moment, an all-in-one contraption capable of delivering a subject in alive, wounded, or in a tiny vial. Whichever option suited Kilran's mood at the moment Emron supposed.
"Try and keep them alive," he ordered.
If NR-02 had been capable of it, the 'droid would have been speeding a very disappointed glare his way. "If you are concerned about unnecessary casualties, I assure you that the loss of the personnel opposing us will have only a marginally negative impact on our chances of success."
"Not my point 'droid, shoot to kill only when necessary."
"Very well." There was a faint hissing noise as the pilot light extinguished itself and the needles retracted. A clicking noise alerted him to Vette setting her pistols to their stun setting.
"Alright then," he thumbed the activation stud on his lightsaber, relishing the sound of the characteristic snap-hiss as its blood red blade extended outwards from the ornate hilt. "Let's hurry up and push through these men. Force knows we're on a tight enough timetable as is."
A quick extension of his senses through the Force informed him of seven marines idling around by the entrance to the bridge. Perhaps they had not been expecting anyone to make it as far as Emron had, but seven quickly became five when Emron dashed from the corridor and blasted two of them backwards with a Force push, sending their unconscious bodies clattering to the ground. The remaining men barely had time to react before Vette rounded the corner and dropped another one with a hail of stun rounds.
"Shoot! Shoot! Bring them down!" screamed a marine, all discipline seemingly forgotten in the shock of a sudden Sith attack. A quick glance by Emron identified him as a sergeant.
The man's panicked orders abruptly came to a halt as NR-02 chose that moment to join in on the chaos, forearm blasters pumping out shot after shot.
Three left, this is going better than expected.
One of the soldiers unhooked a detonator from his belt and hefted it Emron while his comrades opened fire on Vette and NR-02, driving them back into cover behind the corner. A quick flick of his wrist turned the highly explosive sphere into two smoldering halves as his lightsaber passed through it.
Emron gave his opponent no more chances as he charged forward. The marine swore profusely and tried to bring his rifle to bear at the Sith careening towards him, but his curses were cut short as Emron slammed the hilt of his lightsaber into his face, the impact denting the man's helmet slightly. The apprentice grinned slightly at the sight of the man dropping to the ground like a stone, before two shots slammed into his exposed back. He whipped back around to face the remaining two soldiers, bringing his lightsaber to bear. The pain that flared up all along his back in response to the motion reminded him all too clearly that if he had not been wearing his armor, his body would have joined the others on the durasteel floor.
Idiot! Fekking Force-damned idiot! Pay attention to the fight, feel good about yourself after!
A vicious snarl was all that preceded his advance as he launched himself at the soldier who had shot him. Unlike the previous one, this marine calmly stood his ground and pumped off bolt after bolt towards the oncoming Sith. A crimson volley fired off by his comrade contributed to the hail of blaster fire that forced Emron to stop and focus on deflecting, even driving him back a step.
The stalemate continued for another couple of seconds before Vette and NR-02 popped back around the corner, no longer suppressed due to the marines focusing solely on Emron, and unloaded into the first marine's back, unaware that they were mirroring the man's own tactics. Emron wanted to appreciate the irony of the moment, but refused to allow his concentration to slip again. The last marine standing threw his arms up into the air in a gesture of surrender, and Emron reached into his mind with the Force and drove him into unconsciousness.
NR-02 quickly approached him, with Vette trailing behind. "Quickly, we must obtain control of the bridge. Time is running short."
"Yeah, you've told me that already," Emron grunted, shifting his shoulders somewhat to alleviate the pain snaking its way through his back. "Let's get this over with."
NR-02 tromped past, though Vette lingered for a moment. "You ok?" she asked.
"Fine," he said. Nothing a quick kolto patch can't fix up, but then, a Sith can hardly admit to any weakness out loud.
Vette gave him a slightly dubious look before jogging to catch up with NR-02, leaving him to exhale slightly in an effort to relieve some of the pain before turning to follow.
"Captain Orzik, I presume?" Emron asked the back of the lone individual who had not stopped and stared at the group that had barged its way onto the bridge.
"Yes, that is me," said the man as he turned and faced Emron.
The first thing to grab Emron's attention about the man was the medals that adorned his chest. Numerous commendations and awards for valor were lined up neatly, proclaiming for all to see that here was a man who had led others into some of the worst battles of the Great War and had done so with no fear in his heart. Emron had taken the liberty of digging into the Captain's service record when he had been on Vaiken, and had discovered that the man had served with distinction at Hoth, Corellia, and a half dozen other battles. An impressive tally by any measure.
The second was the resigned expression upon the man's face. Emron had expected some sort of defiance from a man brave, or foolish, enough to openly defy a Grand Moff, but Emron's appearance here on the bridge seemed to have taken all the fight out of Orzik. Worrying, considering how Emron planned on using the Captain to help even the odds stacked against them in the upcoming battle. Hopefully the man had not lost all of his fire.
"I'm sure you understand why I am here, Captain," he began.
"Indeed."
"Care to explain as to why you saw fit to disobey a direct order then?"
Orzik sighed, "Kilran ordered me to pursue the Brentaal Star and capture an unspecified high value target, as I'm sure you are aware my Lord. However, despite the Talon being up gunned when compared to other Imperial transports, it still stands no chance against a proper warship. For the sake of my men, I refused and continued course to Dromund Kaas. I accept full responsibility for the consequences of my actions, and ask only that you spare the men and women under my command."
This is going better than I had hoped for, at least. Emron cleared his throat before continuing, "Captain, make no mistake, there will be a reckoning for your actions. However, for now I require your assistance. I'm aware of your skills, and without them we will most likely not succeed in this endeavor."
"What do you need me to do, Lord?" Orzik asked, a curious expression on his face.
Emron had no idea as to go about this, having had no time to actually plan how they would take the fight to the Republic. All his attention had been focused upon seizing the Talon with a minimum of bloodshed, and now having accomplished that, proceeded to draw blanks.
"I was hoping you could help me in that regard, Captain," he admitted. "I have no experience commanding a spaceship, as compared to your years. I will, however, need some of your best men to accompany me on a boarding action in order to secure the target. You will be in command of the ship and will be able to do as you see fit while the battle is taking place, short of retreat of course."
"Of course. I believe I can keep the ship intact long enough for you to grab the target, provided you do not take too long. I'll alert two squads of marines to prepare for boarding and have them meet you down in the hangar."
"Then let us not waste any more time," NR-02 interjected. "The Star has already had too much time to repair itself, and any longer may render all of this irrelevant."
"As much as I hate to admit it, the 'droid is right," the Captain said with a sideways glare. "Ensign, bring us out of hyperspace and initiate course correction in accordance with the coordinates being uploaded to your terminal now."
"Aye-aye Captain," answered a clearly frightened young woman.
"Are you ready my Lord?" Orzik asked as he turned back to face Emron. The ship shuddered beneath their feet as the crew began to perform the necessary calculations for another hyperspace jump, none willing to risk displeasing a Sith or their captain.
A smile rippled across his face, "As I'll ever be."