A/N: This chapter is a little shorter, but it didn't feel right jumping right into planetary defenses. They needed travel time and at least a little bit of breathing room.
Restless Interlude
The Thunderclap
Given how exhausted Havoc squad had been after the assault on Korriban, Fynta had ordered mandatory down time. Everyone except Yuun, who'd requested permission to meditate on the bridge, tucked in for a nap. Even though the Gand would never say such a thing out loud, Jorgan got the impression that even his patience with Vik ran thin from time to time.
Jorgan lounged in the commander's quarters, finally able to relax, while Fynta rummaged noisily through a drawer of medals in search of her hairbrush. She snorted with contempt when one of the pins pricked her finger. The Cathar looked up from an article on the newest sniper rifle modifications to find his wife sucking on the injured digit. "The man's an idiot if he thinks I want more of these to play pincushion with," she grumbled, shoving the ribbons to the side.
Darok had offered Havoc more commendations for their work on the Sith homeworld. While Jorgan wasn't so careless with his, he agreed that it was possible to have too many. Eventually, the prestige became overshadowed by the sheer weight that they added to his dress jacket. Still, the he tried to put a pleasant spin on things, if only to get Fynta to stop making so much noise. "He's proud of Havoc's accomplishments, can't really blame the guy."
Shutting the drawer with an exasperated huff, Fynta faced Jorgan. The Cathar recognized the moment her mind shifted from on duty Republic soldier, to something more . . . carnal. "If I wanted a reward for a job well done," she purred, placing her hands on the bed to either side of Jorgan's bare feet. "I'd speak to someone who could actually give me what I deserve." Her voice dipped low, and Jorgan found himself setting aside the datapad to fold his hands over his stomach.
They'd both gotten comfortable after making the jump to hyperspace; Fynta in regulation military halter bra and tight shorts, while Jorgan remained in his under armor pants, sans shirt. He watched his wife crawl towards him, doing his best to ignore the way her knees straddled his legs. "Oh?" The Cathar managed through a tight throat, quite proud of his ability to sound amused instead of aroused. "And what sort of reward do you deserve?"
Fynta settled into Jorgan's lap, his hands resting on her thighs as hers draped casually over his shoulders. He'd been startled to discover that the contrasting temperature between cold metal, and the warmth of Fynta's flesh kindled his desire. He flexed his fingers, enjoying those differences under his palms. Jorgan had kept this revelation to himself at first, concerned about making his wife uneasy while she came to accept her circumstances. Of course, she'd picked up on it quickly, because he'd never been able to hide anything from the blasted woman. Now, Fynta offered him every chance to explore this new penchant, not to mention, she enjoyed showing off her regained flexibility.
The major leaned forward, pressing Jorgan against the headboard. Fynta's lips brushed his ear, and Jorgan's hands slid up to her hips, eagerly awaiting the invitation to respond. The Cathar sucked in a breath when her tongue flicked at the sensitive tip of his ear, and he let her scent overwhelm him.
"You," Fynta finally whispered.
It was a simple answer, but the way Fynta's voice filled with lust, followed by the gentle tug of her teeth, pulled a feral snarl from the Cathar. Bucking his hips, Jorgan flipped his wife onto her back, not bothering to be gentle with his kisses as he pinned her with his weight. His hands roved over her body, enjoying every part, whereas Fynta's went directly to his waistband, ever impatient.
A chiming noise broke the two Havoc commanders apart, and Jorgan growled in annoyance this time. He looked into Fynta's eyes and saw a mixture of amusement and irritation. This wouldn't be the first time an emergency transmission had interrupted their personal time. When it sounded again, the Cathar pushed off the mattress with a muttered curse. "This is becoming a bad habit."
Fynta chuckled while Jorgan crawled to the foot of the bed to reach across the small expanse. He snatched Fynta's datapad off the desk and flicked the screen on to display a message with an urgent tag. That, along with the fact that they were still in hyperspace, meant Verin was desperate to reach his sister. At a nod from Fynta, Aric opened the missive.
You're not anywhere near Tython right now, are you, adi'ika?
A cold wave ran through Jorgan's entire body, and when his eyes found Fynta's, whatever she saw in them had the major on her feet in an instant. He held out the datapad, then stood to collect his gear. It didn't matter that minutes ago they'd been ready to tear one another's clothes off. This was clearly a military matter, to be handled accordingly.
"Fierfek," Fynta hissed. Jorgan noticed that Verin's name had become synonymous with that word lately. She crossed the room and threw open the door to activate the intercom just outside. "Yuun, drop us out of hyperspace, now!"
The deck rocked violently under Jorgan's feet, causing him to grip the desk chair as Fynta stumbled back into their room. No sooner had the door slammed behind her, than her holo lit up. Her eyes grew wide. "Shab, forced override. Get down." Jorgan didn't ask for an explanation, simply dropped to the floor a moment before Theron Shan appeared in miniature.
"There you are," the SIS agent growled. "I've been trying to reach you. We've got a serious problem, Fynta." Jorgan snorted at the informal use of the major's name, then shoved his annoyance down and kept quiet. Fynta had been adamant about not flaunting their relationship in front of Shan, though the man clearly knew something had changed about his former cadet.
"I figured that much out on my own," the major shot back. "Where do you need us?"
Shan shook his head, waving a hand at her. "I'm not even going to ask how," he responded. "Imperial forces just hit Tython. Iso-5 bombings, strike teams in the Jedi Temple . . . they need your support."
"Has Darok issued orders?" Fynta hedged, though Jorgan didn't understand her hesitance. Granted, his mood might not be the best since he was laying on a cold, durasteel floor because Shan had somehow managed to hack Fynta's comm. It was even more annoying that she'd recognized the intrusion so quickly. Just one more reminder of how well the two knew one another.
"He didn't mention you specifically, no," Theron responded. "But, they need Havoc."
A niggling thought crept slowly through Jorgan's mind at the mention of Iso-5. Makeb should be a broken up wasteland now. The Hutts had gotten greedy and drilled too deep in search of the rare Isotope-5 mineral, causing the planet's core to become unstable. Havoc had been responsible for part of the planet's evac shortly after Fynta had been cleared for light duty. Jorgan remembered it well, that had also been their first co-op mission with Jedi. So, where was the Empire getting its supply?
"Fine," Fynta replied after a brief silence. "I'll set course for Tython."
Theron nodded once, his shoulders sagging in relief. "Get down there and save that planet, Fynta."
As soon as the signal cut off, Fynta snatched up the device and hurled it against the wall hard enough to shatter the casing. Jorgan pushed himself off the floor, then padded over to examine the mess. The holo wouldn't be functional again any time soon, and he offered his wife a curious brow raise. The major didn't usually resort to destroying her own equipment when she was annoyed, claiming it was too much trouble to replace.
"I need a new comm," Fynta complained. "That one was compromised." When Jorgan straightened and crossed his arms, she waved him off. "I'll explain later. Right now, I need to contact Verin. Then, we've got to bail out the Jetiise."
Imperial Dreadnaught
The alarms blared, startling Zolah from sleep. It took a few moments to realize that they were a call to arms. The Chiss stumbled out of bed and grabbed her armored jacket, pulling on her boots as she keyed open the door. She'd slept in her clothes for years in preparation for just such an eventuality. The habit has saved her life more than once, and it was something she tried to encourage in her crew. The idea had been met with varying degrees of acceptance.
Vector appeared at Zolah's side as she rounded the corner into the chaos of the hallway. Together, they traversed the crowded walkways while still righting sleep rumpled clothing. Zolah had just entered the bridge, fastening the last button of her vest, when Lana nodded towards the holotable. "It's Korriban."
"So soon?" The Chiss asked, leaning over the table to study the image of the Sith training grounds. Sure enough, Republic forces had laid waste to the Sith academy. Vector sucked in a breath, black eyes narrowing at the scene before them.
A counterstrike was to be expected, there were even systems in place to protect against such a move. After all, they'd raided Tython, rather easier than Zolah had expected. "This feels wrong," Solish said from across the table. Zolah's implants hadn't registered the Cathar's presence, which troubled her. The Sith leaned forward, pushing her face through the holo to cut her eyes towards Arkous. "How were they able to penetrate the planet's defenses?"
Lana remained silent on the manner while Zolah attempted to pull up the defense protocols. ACCESS DENIED. The Chiss raised an eyebrow, then tried again. After another failed attempt, she leaned back to look at the two Sith. "My security clearance has been revoked." She spoke softly, gambling that neither of the women in her immediate vicinity had anything to do with it.
"Let me see." Lana shouldered up behind the agent, brows pulled together as Zolah demonstrated again. If she tried one more time, she could lock down the entire system. "Mister Hyllus, if you please." Vector approached the terminal, entering in his passcode with the same result. He'd been given emergency access in case Zolah became incapacitated. Since the two worked almost exclusively together, the joiner would be the Empire's next best hope. He knew Zolah's mind better than anyone else.
Lana's lips pressed into a thin line. "This is troubling."
Solish circled around the table, joining the small huddle, but not deeming it necessary to lower her voice. "If anyone knows the inner workings of Sith conspiracies, it's my crew. Troubling, is putting it lightly, Lord Beniko."
Zolah had been privy to her fair share of Imperial conspiracies too, and spared Lana a careful look. Should the Sith decide to report Solish for her thinly veiled accusation, well, the Cathar was half mad as it was, and she had the benefit of being Sith. Zolah chose to remain silent, having neither of those factors working in her favor.
"Alter course!" Arkous commanded, drawing everyone's attention to the navigation platform. "Get us to Korriban at once!" The Pureblood appeared properly annoyed by this attack, but Zolah couldn't deny that Solish's allegation had merit. He constructed the attack on Tython, and only he had access to their Republic source of information.
Lana touched Zolah's arm and nodded towards the hallway. Solish followed without invitation, while Vector remained behind to keep an eye on the now frantic Darth Arkous. Zolah wondered if she should summon forth the others from her ship, then discarded the idea.
Once away from the pandemonium of the bridge, Lana pitched her voice low. "I want you two working together on this one. I'll ensure your absence goes without notice, but we must understand what is happening down there." The woman squared her shoulders, expression dogged. "We must not let the Republic destroy our heritage."
Republic Space Station
Theron paced in front of the holotable, staring at the image of Tython. The planet was surrounded by dreadnaughts, and the grounds overrun by Imperial soldiers. How did this happen? He asked himself again. The agent glanced at Colonel Darok, who'd spent the entire time on his comm to someone he claimed was high enough up the food chain to make a difference.
Theron had a niggling thought at the back of his mind, screaming that this whole situation didn't add up. These attacks were perfectly timed, but when he'd mentioned the possibility of a leak within the department, Darok grew angry. Theron stopped short of accusing the man of being involved, mentally or verbally, but still. . . .
"Come on, Fynta. Hurry up," the agent grumbled. He placed his hands on the table and let all the air out of his lungs in a long breath.
Judging by the major's wardrobe, she had been asleep, or maybe fresh out of the shower. Had he not been so hell bent on getting the woman to agree to Havoc's intervention, Theron might have commented on how good she looked. They hadn't spent long enough on the holo for him to do a thorough scan, but it had given him a view of her new leg, and the expensive tech it was made from. Theron smiled. He'd have to mention something about her being wired up just like him the next time they spoke in private, just to piss her off. Granted, that would have to be after she pulled off the impossible rescue of the Jedi planet.
"Shan," Darok called, pulling the agent out of his thoughts. It was probably for the best. The mountain of man stomped over, slamming a meaty fist into the table. "No good, I'm going to have to coordinate from orbit."
"Great, I'll come with." Theron snatched up his meager belongings and gave the colonel a pointed look.
The man appeared on the verge of protesting, then sighed in defeat. "Fine, but stay out of the way."
Theron grinned, bringing up the program that would inform him the moment Fynta dropped out of hyperspace again. She'd no doubt destroyed her holo, but Theron only needed an alert this time. He wouldn't have to slice into anyone's personal device, because Fynta knew to expect his call now. As they walked, Theron reviewed Havoc's file again. He'd met the XO and Lieutenant Yuun; hopefully Fynta would let Theron borrow the Gand again, because he worked miracles with tech. However, the others were still unknowns. Sergeant Vik had been blacklisted years ago, so it didn't surprise Theron that he'd ended up on Fynta's squad, but Sergeant Cormac was more of a mystery. Not to mention Lieutenant Dorne, Imperial defector. In his experience, those tended to be spies too.
"I'm serious, Shan," Darok repeated over his shoulder as the two men approached his battlecruiser. Theron shook the conspiratorial thoughts away for now. "I don't want you interrogating my men while I'm trying to run an op. We'll worry about a possible leak later."
No problem, I've got my own players on the board now, the agent thought. Outwardly, Theron offered a reassuring smile. "You won't even know I'm there."
The Red Blade
Zolah smiled when she gave the Cathar Sith the name of the prototype operations craft. According to the agent, it had been Kaliyo's idea to dub the ship after their first conquest together. An interesting tale forged of piracy in the swamps of Hutta. No matter how many times Zolah claimed to be only humoring her Rattataki anarchist, Vector had noted a smirk whenever she used the nickname.
"This ship is top of the line, my lord," Zolah continued, offering enough humility to keep from being electrocuted by the temperamental Sith. Vector bypassed the two women to enter the coordinates for Korriban. As the small group remained near the entrance to the bridge, he had no trouble overhearing their conversation. "Only a few were made, and she offers everything from a radar resistant hull, to advanced weaponry. I assure you, the Blade will slip through the Republic blockade with ease."
"Very well," the Sith answered. "I trust that you would not have caught the attention of Darth Arkous were you not proficient at your job." Vector wondered if the use of such a word to describe Zolah's performance was intentional baiting, or if it was simply the way the Sith perceived non Force users.
The naviscreen blinked green, acknowledging the coordinates, and Vector rejoined the group. "Sirs." He offered a polite bow before carrying on. "We have input the coordinates, and should arrive within a six hour time frame."
Zolah had decided to send everyone away before allowing Solish onto her ship. Kaliyo's tendency towards blatant disrespect, Raina's mild, slightly illegal Force sensitivity, and Dr. Lokin's sketchy experiments were certainly not the image that the Chiss agent wished to project. Not to mention, SCORPIO. The mere thought of allowing the vindictive AI anywhere near someone of Solish's power had conjured a feeling of dread. In the end, Vector had been all that remained. The joiner took pride in the trust Zolah showed by allowing him to remain.
Likewise, Solish had brought someone of her own. A Kaleesh Sith apprentice, one Xivhkalrainik. Zolah had asked Vector to repeat the name multiple times for her own amusement. The joiner finally had to point out that his position, not only as a diplomat, but as Dawn Herald, made him well versed in difficult to pronounce names. Xalek, as Darth Solish had graciously introduced him, remained silent during the tour of the ship. Both Force users appeared unimpressed by the Intelligence agent's vessel, so, Zolah wrapped up the conversation.
"Vector will show you to the room we've put together." The Siths' presence clearly agitated Zolah. She regarded them with a wary respect, but had confided in Vector that she felt the Dark Council could do with a few less occupants. Nevertheless, the Chiss agent played the part of submissive, then went about her business unhindered.
"Of course," Vector responded on cue, waving his hand before him. "If you would follow us." Raina had been kind enough to convert the conference room into a spare bedroom for Darth Solish, and Xalek could bunk in the barracks.
When Vector returned after seeing to their guests, he found Zolah sitting at her desk with a datapad in hand. Technically, he spent most nights in her bed, yet the joiner refused to claim ownership of the space itself. He was content to be near her, yet felt no desire to demand that her things become his. Grabbing his datapad off the bedside table, Vector sank into one of the chairs, crossing his ankle over the opposite knee.
The joiner had felt uneasy since the news of the attack on Korriban reached them. He agreed that things couldn't be as simple as Republic revenge, though he hadn't formulated a hypothesis as to why yet. Apart from the timing and the failed planetary defense system, they must also account for the sudden loss of security access. While Vector did not regard himself as a paranoid man, he would be remiss not to consider the possibility of a trap.
"Is something troubling you?" Vector glanced up from his datapad, having yet to turn the device on, to find Zolah gazing at him with brilliant, red eyes. The absence of pupils had been oddly reassuring after leaving the Oroboro Nest, feeling more comfortable in the agent's presence than the other members of their team. Her lack of—humanity, had made his integration into the crew smoother because she never required him to act fully human. He'd made the attempt for his own benefit, then gave up when Zolah proclaimed that she had no interest in who he used to be. Their relationship had progressed quickly after that.
"We were considering tactics for when we reach Korriban," Vector admitted.
Zolah leaned forward, propping dainty elbows on her knees. The Chiss agent could be described as willowy by those who hadn't see her fight. She stood just a few centimeters shorter than Vector and sported a thin frame. Of course, he knew her musculature better than most, but hunched forward in that jacket, the joiner agreed that she looked too fragile for what lie ahead.
One black brow arched in his direction. "And have you come up with another master strategy?" Her lips twitched into a playful smile as she tipped her head, short, ebony hair brushing the top of her shoulder.
Vector sighed, setting aside the device before interlacing his fingers in his lap. "As much as it troubles us to say this. We believe it would be wise to stay aboard the ship." Zolah sat straight, her calculations as to why he would choose to stay behind evident on her face. "If you wish us at your side, we will, of course, acquiesce. But, would it not be pertinent to have an escape route available, should the worst come to pass?" The idea of leaving the ship unguarded on a war ravaged Sith planet held little appeal, and Solish would no doubt wish to take her apprentice with her. Meaning there would be no one left to pilot if an evacuation were required.
Vector warred with himself for two hours over which would benefit Zolah more; a quick exit, or an ally on the planet. In the end, the joiner decided that, as an agent, she was more than capable of defending herself. Thanks to her training, and being resistant to mind manipulation, Vector would prove more useful aboard the ship.
They sat in silence while Zolah considered his suggestion. "I agree," she stated at length. "That is a pragmatic outlook. Should we be overwhelmed, I'll trust you to arrive promptly."
Having Zolah's approval gave Vector no satisfaction, if only for the fact that he preferred not to leave her alone with two Sith as her only backup. However, their options were few. Offering a curt nod, Vector retrieved the datapad again. "Let us hope things do not come to that," he remarked, finally turning on the device in his hands.
Zolah sighed, spinning her chair away from Vector to resume planning. "Yes, let's."