Chapter 13: Into the Heart of Darkness
The Black Talon
The Apprentice
"…then I turned the corner just as soon as this Republic trooper decides to turn it too, and we're both just standing there staring at each other! So I grab his head and bash it all over the nearest terminal! Bastard probably never had time to figure out how the hell we got there that fast."
"You're so full of shit Grenhik."
"I swear man, it's true! Just ask Jensen over there!"
"Hey, leave me outta this asshat."
"And once again, you have no proof."
"You have no proof that it didn't happen."
"No need. We all know you."
Emron smirked behind his helmet at the banter as he stamped down the ramp behind the marines and into the Talon's battered hangar bay. All of the pent-up adrenaline that had accompanied him during the action aboard the Star was now flooding out of his system, leaving him feeling an odd mixture of euphoria and exhaustion that was beginning to settle deep within his bones. Kark, I'll probably end up sleeping for a week.
"Force Grenhik, you ever stop? Or at least try to come up with some half believable?" Traxel asked as he removed his helmet to rub at his temples.
"Sir, you wound me! You of all people should know by now that I never tell lies!" the other marine responded, his voice full of faux indignation.
Vette, of all people, snorted out a laugh in response to that. Sarky girl.
"Alright people, shut up and go grab some shut eye," Traxel said as he hooked his helmet onto his utility belt. "Zemis, you're with me. Lord, I presume you'll be accompanying us to the bridge?"
"Yes," Emron nodded. No doubt Kilran is pounding down the Captain's metaphorical door by now. Best to get this over with.
"I'm gonna go grab some shuteye as well, if it's alright with you," Vette said as she motioned towards the backs of the departing marines.
"Fine."
"Thanks," she said gratefully before moving off in the opposite direction.
"Damn but they really did a number on the ship," Zemis remarked as they made their way out of the hangar and into the corridors leading towards the bridge. Technicians and 'droids darted about and around them, running assessments and performing damage control.
"Good thing the Star was already beat up when we showed up then," Emron said as he ducked below a bundle of sparking cables before sliding past a durasteel girder that protruded sharply from the wall. "Would have ended up having to hijack it otherwise."
"Now that would have been something," Traxel said as they stepped into the elevator waiting to take them to the bridge. "Now let's just get this with, yeah? I hurt all over, I'm exhausted, and now I've got to report to Grand Bloody Moff Kilran himself. Kark."
"No argument here," Emron sighed as Zemis stifled a snicker at his superior's plight.
"Shut it you bastard, you had it easy," Traxel pseudo-snarled before punching the button for the bridge somewhat harder than necessary.
It turned out they need not have rushed after all.
Chaos reigned as Emron, Traxel, and Zemis stepped out of the elevator. The bridge had been turned into a charnel house since the last time Emron had set foot in it. Security forces were assisting medical teams place the injured onto stretchers to be carried to the med bay or removing twisted and broken bodies from where they lay splayed out across their stations. Cries and moans of pain echoed throughout the room as those deemed to be healthy enough still working furiously to keep the ship intact and on course.
Two security troopers were carrying off a familiar looking body just as the trio reached the fore of the bridge. "Lord, Lieutenant," Lieutenant Sylas said as she turned to face them, a bloody bandage covering the right half of her face.
Traxel and Zemis stiffened up and saluted, while Emron settled for a respectful nod. "I take it that was the Captain they just hauled away?" he asked, jerking his head backwards towards the retreating figures making their way out of the room.
"Indeed Lord," the woman nodded. "We were hit pretty badly about ten minutes in. The Captain had just ordered us to go evasive to dodge a wave of sabotage 'droid pods, unfortunately it put us directly within the enemy's broadside."
"How bad?"
"Overall? Half of our fighters were lost, and the rest are too shot up to fight. About two dozen crew dead, including the Captain, another dozen critically wounded, and most of the rest are injured in one fashion or another. As for the ship itself, the reports I'm starting to receive are intermittent at best, but the Talon will most likely be in dry dock for the next month getting all the holes in the hull patched up."
"Damn," Emron muttered.
"Simply put Lord, another minute and a half, and there would have been no ship for you to return to."
"So," he said as he glanced around, still attempting to take in all of the carnage that surrounded them, "I take it you're the acting captain now?"
"Indeed. And my first blatant abuse of power is to foist this 'droid's nonstop demands onto you," Sylas said as she motioned towards NR-02.
If the 'droid had been an organic rather than a synthetic, Emron imagined it would have had a thunderous look upon its face as it stormed its way over towards him.
"Grand Moff Kilran is requesting a debriefing from you," it said before raising its arm in order to access the imbedded micro-'puter stored within.
No one missed the emphasis on 'request'. They had clearly not lived up to the Moff's lofty expectations, and someone was about to catch all sorts of hell for it. Traxel and Zemis both took surreptitious steps backwards, while Lieutenant Sylas adopted a pensive look with impressive speed. As for Emron himself…
I wonder if I could reach those depressurization controls before the 'droid finishes connecting.
The bridge holoprojector hummed to life before spewing out the image of Grand Moff Kilran above it.
Guess not.
Where NR-02 was incapable expressing emotion, the thunderhead brewing on Kilran's face was doing everything it could to make up for that deficiency, and succeeding admirably in the process. Individuals around the bridge who took notice of the impending outburst began making whatever excuses they could in order to make a beeline for the exit.
Emron sighed lightly, resisting the urge to massage his throbbing temples. The Force only knew how much he would rather be sleeping right now instead of having to deal with whatever had gotten the Moff all worked up like this.
"The mission was a success sir," he spoke after brief interlude of awkward, tense silence.
"So I've been informed," came the reply that heralded the return of the oppressive silence.
Emron frantically ran a few sentence through his head, desperately trying to find something that would jumpstart the debriefing. Kilran's clipped tone interrupted him before he could begin making a fool of himself, however. "I've also been informed, courtesy of NR-02 here, that you blatantly disregarded my request to deal with Captain Orzik, and also killed the General rather than take him alive."
General? Emron thought. One thought skittered through his mind in an endless loop.
Oops.
"Well…" he stammered out. "You did say to keep his information from the Republic. Never specified the how part."
Kilran's glare only intensified at those words, and it was all Emron could do to not gulp in terror. Sith, contrary to popular belief, did in fact, not have free reign to do whatever they liked whenever they liked. While they were afforded many liberties that befitted their station, and some highly influential Sith abused their power for all it was worth, he did not bother deluding himself that he could do the same. If Kilran ordered his 'droid to terminate him here and now, apprentice to Darth Baras or not, no one would bat an eye. After all, it would be well within the Moff's rights.
He had no fear of dying in battle. But this?
Kriff! Get a damn hold of yourself!
Suddenly the angered look disappeared off of Kilran's face, so fast that he was left feeling slightly nauseous. A tiny smirk took up residence in place of the previous glare.
"Why so I did," Kilran said in a rather genial tone. "And the Captain met his end in the battle, so I hardly have room to complain there either, now do I? All in all, I must say that you've done a most remarkable thing here today."
"I…thank you?" Emron stuttered out in a highly undignified way. He figured he would be dying of embarrassment at such a pitiful statement if he was not so flabbergasted by Kilran's mood whiplash.
"I may have need of your services in the future, given how competently you executed this," Kilran continued, ignoring his reaction. "But for now, I'm afraid other matters are currently vying for my attention, so I must cut this short. The Empire thanks you for your service." With that, the holoprojector cut out, and everyone on the bridge took a collective breath.
After a long moment, Traxel took the liberty to voice what they were all thinking.
"What. The. Fek."
Emron stared out of the hangar at the slowly revolving blue orb that floated endlessly in space below him.
They had exited hyperspace a couple of hours ago after spending another day in hyperspace. A day that he had spent indulging in nothing but glorious sleep. They had entered orbit only minutes ago, whereupon they had proceeded to dock with an awaiting orbital platform that would ferry all non-essential crew down to the surface while emergency repairs were carried out on the Talon's battered frame. From there, as he understood it, the ship would be sent to the shipyards above Ziost for repairs more permanent than the simple patchwork job that would be performed here.
A moment of idle curiosity washed over him when realized that he could not remember the last time he had been on Dromund Kaas. Yet from what little he remembered about the planet itself, it seemed to have not changed even in the slightest since all those years ago, when he had been bundled against his will onto a transport bound for Ziost and destiny.
He forced the faint memories from his mind. It would not do in the slightest to start dredging the past up. What was done was long since done, and there was nothing he could do to change it.
Another time, another life.
Turning back towards the waiting shuttle, he was surprised to see the remaining members of Sigma platoon waiting for him to arrive. He was doubly surprised when all of them stood to attention and smartly saluted him as he drew near. Lieutenant Traxel stepped forwards, offering a hand and a nod, both of which Emron accepted graciously.
"Pleasure serving with you Lord," the man said as he pumped the Sith's arm.
"Pleasure was all mine Lieutenant, couldn't have done it with you and your men," Emron said with a smile.
"Of course you couldn't have, we're Imperial marines. The best," Traxel retorted good-humoredly, drawing laughs from the still-saluting marines. "We just let you watch how it's done was all."
"Well then," Emron said as he let go and began searching his belt, before pulling out a credit chit. "Drinks are on me then, you and your men deserve them."
The marines abandoned any remaining sense of decorum they had left as they hooted and cheered at the prospect of free alcohol. Traxel smirked as he accepted the proffered chit. "I'm sure we'll make good use of this Lord."
"I'm sure you will, now if you'll excuse me, I'm a little late for a meeting with my master."
"Sure you don't want to stay with us? We could use a meat shield."
"Tempting. It'd probably be safer, that's for sure."
Both men laughed before Traxel stepped back. He snapped one last salute, one which Emron returned, before the Sith turned and made his way up the ramp and into the awaiting shuttle.
Dromund Kaas and Darth Baras awaited him.
Rain pounded on the hull of the shuttle as the pilot brought it down into the Kaas City spaceport, a steady drumbeat against the durasteel plating. The ride down to the surface had been a rough one, the typhoon season winds pounding against the shuttle and jostling about its occupants, and Vette had audibly cheered when the pilot had announced that they had been cleared for final approach. Emron, for his part, was simply eager to have solid ground beneath his feet again. If the entire Talon escapade had taught him anything, it was that space was the last place for someone like him.
Landing gear met unyielding duracrete with a jolt, heralding the end of more than a week long journey through the void, and Vette and Emron both quickly unstrapped themselves from their seats before making their way down the ramp and into the awaiting docking bay.
"So this is Dromund Kaas huh? Never been here before," Vette noted as she practically ran down off of the ramp.
"Most people would call that a good thing," Emron noted as he followed at a more sedate pace.
"That's because it is," Vette returned bluntly.
"Touché. We'd better go put ourselves through customs, unless you feel like this is far enough already," Emron said as he gestured towards a line of electronic scanners at the far end of the bay, near the exit.
"I would say it is, especially after you mentioned customs, but this bay hardly seems like the coziest of places to stay, y'know?"
"Is that a professional opinion, or just a gut feeling?"
"Six of one, half a dozen of the other."
Emron chuckled lightly as he made his way over to the squat machines that sat patiently for his arrival. It felt good, indulging in mindless banter like this, knowing that the other person was not sizing you up in order to stick a lightsaber through your back. He could become used to this.
Punching in his name and Imperial standard ID, he stood back and waited for the machine to run its course. That was when he noticed Vette doing that same.
Great, didn't think about this part. She won't have an ID, not when she's not an Imperial citizen. How in the Force am I going to…?
Whatever he was planning to finish that particular train of thought with vanished when he saw Vette pull out a holodisk and insert into the machine, receiving a blat of acknowledgment in return.
"Where'd you get an ID from?" he asked, mostly curious and partly suspicious.
"Forged it myself. I've had to change identities lots of times before. Now it's trivial stuff to do," she said as she pulled the disk back out and pocketed it.
"I see…" he trailed off before noticing an individual exiting the bay's elevator and making his way over towards them.
"Are you Darth Baras' apprentice?" the small, mousy man asked with a timid voice.
Emron chose to say nothing, instead crossing his arms across his chest while transfixing the man with a fierce glare. There was a good chance that this was what it seemed, that Baras simply wanted to give him directions to his master through a proxy, but he did not feel like taking any chances at the moment.
Force knows I just got out of one pitched fight. Don't need some rival Lord sending assassins after me and starting another before I couldn't keep my gob shut.
Faced with Emron's silence and glare, the man seemed to shrink in on himself even more. "I-if you are, then I was told to t-tell you that Darth Baras awaits you in the Ministry of War wing of the Imperial Citadel, Lord."
When silence continued to be the only answer the unfortunate messenger received, the poor soul turned awkwardly and ran off towards the elevator, stumbling over his own feet in his haste. Only after the elevator doors had closed, shutting him off from Emron's sight did the Sith relent in his glower.
"What was that all about?" Vette asked as she walked over towards him. "It looked like you were trying to gut the guy with your eyes, and succeeding!"
Emron merely shook his head as he brought his arms down off of his chest and to his sides. "Nothing," he stated as he moved to follow after the messenger. "Let's just get to Kaas City before Baras pops a vein because I made him wait even longer."
"No argument here," came Vette's voice from behind him as she hurried to catch up. "So how are we gonna get there? You planning on walking in this weather? We'd end up lost within minutes given how hard that rain's coming down out there."
Emron barked a laugh as the two of them entered the elevator, punching the button for the spaceport's main concourse. "Yes, you've definitely never been to Dromund Kaas before."
"What's the supposed to mean?" Vette asked with an angered and indignant tone as the elevator began its descent.
"You mentioned the rain. The weather is hardly the most dangerous thing about this planet."
That statement wiped the look off of her face, though he sensed her irritation bleeding into the Force, filling up the tiny cabin of the elevator like a choking cloud. I'd better explain better than that. After the last time that this happened, back on the Talon, I don't think I'll survive another bout of her petty revenge. A brief grimace flitted across his face. Wasn't able to sit right for two whole days. Fek, but she's got a nasty streak wider than some Sith.
So he explained. "It's like Korriban, but a lot worse out there," he said in a placating tone. "Trust me when I say that."
Most of the irritation disappeared in a flash after that, though some still lingered on. Emron let out a mental sigh of relief. It looked like he would live to see another day after all.
"How so?" she asked, her voice laden with curiosity.
"Simple," he said as the elevator chimed, announcing their arrival at the concourse, "Korriban's a dead world. For the most part anyways. The real danger on Korriban are the Sith. Dromund Kaas, on the other hand, is liable to devour you whole."
"Oh." A moment of silence took up its place between the pair as they threaded and weaved their way through a mass of humanity, bent on reaching a public transport terminal that would take them to Kaas City without any incident. "So one of those planets, huh?"
He chuckled. "Yeah."
"Coulda just said that and been done with it in the first place."
"And pass up on the chance to be all mystical and cryptic?"
"Point taken."
The taxi speeder sped its way through twisted and ancient foliage, undaunted by the fat drops of rain that slammed mercilessly onto its canopy, or by the wicked bolts of lightning that flashed overhead. Inside, the pair of occupants alternated between twiddling their thumbs and engaging in intermittent bouts of verbal sparring with each other.
"Kriff!"
Emron languidly stretched his neck over towards where Vette was peering out of one of the windows. "What?" he asked lazily.
"I just saw what you meant by 'devour you whole,'" the Twi'lek said, her face a few shades paler than its normal deep blue.
"There's still a ways to go if you feel like stretching your legs a bit," he offered.
"Yeah, I'm good," she retorted before shifting in her seat in a vain effort to find some sort of comfort in the rock-hard seats. "Never was the type for extreme sports anyways. Kark, but are these seats made out of duracrete or something?"
"It's public transportation. Just be thankful that we managed to get a ride that has a minimum of used gum stuck everywhere."
"Little things huh?"
Emron merely grunted his agreement to that. Little things indeed.
It was not long before the taxi began angling downwards and decelerating rapidly. "Looks like our stop," Emron said as he attempted to straighten himself out of the impressive slump he had managed to slide into.
"Next stop, Sith Central," Vette muttered.
As the cab touched down, both undid their safety buckles and piled out into the pouring rain. All around them were elegant and towering residential spires surrounded by squat, sturdy commercial buildings. Above them all, however, loomed the Imperial Citadel, the beating heart of the Sith Empire and nerve center of the most powerful civilization in the galaxy.
"Welcome to Kaas City," Emron said to Vette with a sweeping gesture and a wide grin. "Welcome to the Empire."