Author's Note: Hang on, this is the longest chapter yet, and the rollercoaster begins to plunge.
XII
Thyferra - 14 BBY
Dynamo jolted awake in his bunk, cold sweat locked on his forehead. He seized a deep breath, steadying his pulse.
A persistent nightmare that continued to haunt his cerebral slumber.
Rolling out of his bunk to find the moisture dispenser, he splashed cool water across his face, and took a towel to dry.
"You're up early."
He turned. Al was watching him.
"Another nightmare?" She asked delicately, her expression soft.
Dynamo nodded with a sigh.
She approached, tracing his cheek with the back of her hand.
"You can talk to me about these things, D. Remember?"
He didn't speak, leaning his face into her hand before grasping it with his own.
"I know," he finally said.
"We're in this together, okay? Let me help you," Al replied.
Dynamo knew she couldn't do much. Al had never been to war the way he had. She hadn't seen the things he had. While he adored her, and one day sought a future with her, he knew she could never relate to him properly.
None of the Sapphire Angels were able to, not even Jol, who had taken part in an insurgency on Onderon during the war.
Only his brothers could. Yet they were long gone. Like leaves in the wind, scattered to who knows where.
Gently removing her hand from his face, he stepped past her towards his locker, as she lingered for a moment, savoring the snippet of emotion she got out of him.
"Might wanna suit up soon," came another voice. Dynamo looked up and noticed a third bunk in the room was empty.
Kya was standing in the doorway, fingers tapping at the durasteel frame.
"We're almost there."
The pair gave her a look of understanding, and she whisked herself towards the cockpit, crimson waterfall of curls trailing after her.
"Is she okay?" Dynamo asked Al.
"She's been under a lot of stress from this mission."
"Haven't we all? We aren't hunters."
"I know, D. But you know how much Dyz offered to pay us. This could change everything."
Dynamo shrugged. The money wasn't his goal. He just wanted to make a difference. Clear his conscience. Something. Delivering bacta across the galaxy to those oppressed under the thumb of Imperial rule filled his spirit in a way that money could not. But he never made that sentiment public. His actions spoke loud enough.
"Coming out of hyperspace in one minute, ladies and gents, strap yourselves in."
A few strides across the bunk room, and Dynamo perched himself next to the viewport, eyes wandering beyond the transparisteel to observe the light trails of hyperspace giving way to empty space and distant star systems.
Al flanked him, placing an arm around his shoulder as they observed a small planet coming into view.
"Thyferra," the ship's intercom crackled. "Dyz should be waiting for us."
"Let's get the target straightened up," Al remarked. Dynamo nodded as she left, her hand trailing across his neck.
In the cargo bay, the scientist sat propped up against the bulkhead of the Lancer, sighing in exasperation when the pair appeared.
"These cuffs hurt, ya know," he said.
"Nothing I can do about that, sorry," Al replied, helping him to stand.
"Who is it you're bringing me to?"
"Dyz Exum."
Dynamo watched the man gulp, his Adam's apple nearly convulsing in apprehension.
"The bacta lord?" He asked.
"You'd be correct," she answered, gently pushing him forward towards the front of the ship.
In the cockpit, Jol and Kya sat, monitoring sensor readings and climate patterns as they descended into the atmosphere, thermal flames licking at the ship's shields.
"We'll wind through this canyon system, should bring us to his backdoor," Jol muttered under his breath, eyeing the topography of the northern hemisphere.
"That's fine. Just keep us low. I'll watch the scanners for other craft."
"Still think it's a trap, Kya?"
"You know me, Jol."
He chuckled.
"Yeah. I know you." His hand briefly found hers as they exchanged soft looks.
Dynamo called up to the cockpit as they neared the loading ramp.
"Hey Jol! How much longer?"
"We're landing in five, D! Hold tight."
Exiting the upper atmosphere, Jol piloted the craft beneath a thick layer of storm clouds. Emerging from the deck, the landscape of Thyferra swept into view.
"Dyz always brags about the place, never thought it would look like this.." Kya said, transfixed by the vistas.
Craggy granite mountains and spiked canyons covered the landscape. Between the canyons, hung low clouds of mist and fog, punctuated only by the towering quartzite spires that Thyferra had become famous - or infamous - for.
Navigating through the granite canyons was an arduous difficulty for many pilots, new and experienced alike. Jol had never flown on the planet before, but heard horror stories of ships ending up charred at the floor of the canyon, cloaked in the fog for too long to see a quartzite spire split your hull in two.
The spired rock formations were tall and rather lanky, rising hundreds of meters above the ground, perhaps thousands for a few of them. Trees and lush vegetation grew at the pinnacle of some. While the mountains provided a scenic backdrop, the inner canyons in the foreground were what most paid attention to.
They had no choice.
"Hang on!" Jol called, "this could get rough."
Banking the Lancer down into the nearest canyon, he swerved around the first two spires, delving into a heavy fog that blanketed the viewports around the ship.
"Scanners are clear," Kya said, while monitoring them. "Nothing but rock formations ahead, no ships."
"Be my second pair of eyes, Ky," he replied, never taking his eyes away from the cockpit's viewport.
"You got it."
Dynamo and Al, in the next compartment over, were thrown to the side as Jol kicked the Lancer to the left, shooting around a wider spire that blocked a large portion of canyon access ahead.
"Five klicks, Jol," Kya told him.
"Just let me know when I'm half a klick away," he murmured.
He disengaged the last automated control and went full manual. Keeping his hands gripped on the throttle and yoke, his ears remained listening for the acceleration compensation monitor.
Out of the canyon's mist, came another spire, nearing them at ludicrous speeds.
Streaking back to the right side, Jol yanked the yoke, and the Lancer tore around the curve, missing the spire by just a few feet.
"Cutting it close, Jol." Kya said.
"I know, I know, just keep an eye on the distance."
The display monitor had illuminated Kya's face in vivid blue, and she noticed the closing distance.
"Under a klick."
"Alright." He let up a bit on the throttle, as they entered another cloud of fog. This one was thicker than the rest, and he hoped that his reduced speed would make it easier to react to oncoming objects.
"Watch out!" Kya warned.
Jol had already planned on it.
Seizing the yoke, he flipped an accelerator switch, rerouting all shield power to the engines.
The Lancer surged skyward and then to the left, soaring past the spire at a dangerously close distance. Excessive G-forces imposed on the ship were toned down by the inertial dampeners, but inflicted immense pressure on the ship's integrity.
The acceleration compensation klaxon began to sound. Right on cue.
"Jol.."
The ship struck the base of the spire, screeching against the hull and sounding another alarm.
Blasting past the pillar of rock, the fog persisted, and Jol waved off the wailing alert.
"It's a malfunctioning alarm, ignore it."
"But we hit something Jol!"
"I know. That alarm goes off every time you hit something without shields."
"Isn't that the poi-.. nevermind."
Deeper in the ship, Dynamo was helping Al stand to her feet as the captive scientist gripped the ramp buttress with one of his cuffed hands, hanging on for dear life.
Blowing through the fog layer into an empty patch of sky, they found themselves looking at their destination.
A sprawling complex built atop multiple spires, durasteel bridges connecting one spire to the next, all perched under the protective covering of mist that hovered above the entire area.
"So this is why the canyon is the only way in," Kya said.
"Yeah, I wouldn't even be able to find this place from above. Smart protection," Jol replied, easing the ship lower.
On the central spire, sat the main facility, the nexus of the base. It appeared to be - at first glance - an old temple, with sharp pagoda-like features jutting out from the corners and center. Numerous stone-carved statues and obelisks dotted the grounds around the structure, but any further details were too obscure to notice.
A few hundred meters below, carved into the base of an adjacent spire, was the spaceport, equipped with four shielded hangar bays.
"This is Paragon requesting hangar access, copy," Jol spoke.
"Paragon this is base control, do you have the requirement?"
"We do."
"You are clear to land in hangar four then, copy."
Passing through the hangar bay shield, a plume of grimy soot formed around the landing repulsors as the Paragon came to a rest on the deck.
Dynamo and Al glided down the lowering ramp with Dyz's quarry in tow.
Kya and Jol followed soon thereafter, heavily armed, examining the interior of the hangar bay.
It was polished, quiet, and rather traditional. Statues guarded the exits and paintings were neatly arranged on the rear walls. Some of the more modern and technologically advanced equipment that could be found in nearly any hangar on an Imperial world were absent here. Machinery that seemed decades old rolled about in seemingly pristine condition, while a few astromech and refueling droids scurried about, looking for something to do.
"Looks like Dyz keeps his hangars.. Ship-shape?" Jol said casually.
"You're funny," Kya said, rolling her eyes. "I can't imagine why anyone would want to look at a painting while refueling their ship."
"Easy on the eyes, I s'ppose. Beats staring at dull permacrete," came the reply.
Moving across the deck, they were intercepted by four guards, who silently approached. The figures were like black wraiths, almost floating across the deck in armor that was as dark as the night sky. Their triangular helmets were identical, with a one-way transparisteel visor that captured their surroundings but allowed no one to see their eyes. Charcoal-colored cloaks trailed after them as they moved.
Coming face to face, neither group spoke. The silence pervaded and became especially awkward after a few moments.
"We're here to see Dyz," Al finally spoke up, nodding to their captive.
The guards nodded in unison, and beckoned the group to follow.
Jol looked wary but proceeded at the back end, watching their surroundings and keeping his trigger hand tensed.
Walking the captive through the exit, Dynamo's gaze found the guards' weapons, which remained holstered across their backs. Short vibroblades, two for each guard.
Powerful enough to make a statement, he thought.
Crossing the bridge to the main facility, Dynamo tried not to think about the height, but he looked anyway. Gawking out of the walkway windows, the drop was nearly a kilometer drop to a dark canyon floor below.
Who knew what ship wreckage or debris lay scattered about the canyon graveyard. Or how many bodies.
The main complex at the hub of the base was situated on the central spire, the largest by far. Having crossed the walkway, the group admired the obelisks that were scattered across the grounds, as birds sang from a nearby tree.
Fresh patches of grass grew around the brick path, with not a single weed making its way into the brickwork itself. It had been manicured almost perfectly. Without flaw.
"Imagine the landscaping bill for this guy," Jol quipped.
The four-story pagoda-shaped temple took up most of the peak, with a few turbolaser batteries flanking it on either side. At the rear of the temple, was a large extension, hanging over the edge of the spire itself, but supported with multiple foundation beams driven directly into the rock for added security.
The temple itself, at first glance, was massive. But following the guards inside, the team soon realized the breadth of Dyz's ambitions firsthand.
The inner atrium was gargantuan, in what had to be an optical illusion - or it just took up all four stories itself. A great golden chandelier hung down from the ceiling nearly fifty feet above, basking the great hall in a warm and inviting glow.
Armed guards stood at every entrance, exit, doorway, ascent, and descent within the complex. The group made note of each as they passed them, as still as the stone and as silent as the night, without fail.
Following the main passageway - which was painted in a deep scarlet - the floor gave way to long, ornate rugs that softened their footsteps as they approached the final doorway.
The four guards moved to their posts, standing guard symmetrically inside the vestibule, just beyond the partition to the main room within.
Dynamo pushed the scientist forward, noticing a few droplets of sweat on the older man's hairline.
He was scared.
To be fair, Dynamo wasn't exactly comfortable either. Being his first dealing with Dyz personally, he reminded himself to keep a low profile. His helmet remained on the ship, and he did not realize the error in that decision until they were already entering the rustic hall.
Situated at the end of the mostly wooden room was a wide seat, resembling a throne, with gold and silver ornamentations dressing up the wall behind it.
Along the sides of the hall were six enormous tanks, three to each side. Within them was a cool blue bacta, swirling within their own micro-environments.
Jol paused to examine one, his hand meeting the glass in curiosity.
"You may look."
Jol jumped at the voice.
"But you may not touch."
Entering from his adjacent quarters, was the man himself.
Dyz Exum.
Rather short and stout in stature, he made up for it with his mysterious features. He boasted eyes as cloudy as the fog that enshrouded his fortress, and rather imposing arms, resembling those of a brawler.
Middle-aged, Dyz appeared to be having no mid-life crisis of the sorts, as he was clad in flashy, expensive robes with traditional designs woven carefully into them. His crisp, steel-colored hair was swept back into a keen ponytail. Only the faintest hint of an age line resided on his finely groomed face.
He rose to his throne, as his attendant accompanied and observed him. The five stopped just short of the steps to the seat, all of their eyes fixed on their employer.
"You are now in the presence of noble and honorable Dyz Exum, fourth of the seven Bacta Lords of Thyferra, regent of Equatoria, purveyor of kikolium bacta," said his attendant, a younger robed woman.
Dyz clapped his hands together, remaining silent.
"You are expected to bow," she continued.
They proceeded to do so in near-unison, followed by a look of pure joy from Dyz.
Dyz Exum was as cordial as he was vicious.
One of the most notorious crime bosses in the galaxy, he had built his empire around a rare type of bacta. Nicknamed "kiko," or short for kikolium, it was more viscous and powerful in its healing capabilities than that of your typical bacta. Having ferried the medical liquid for years for other cartels, he gradually consolidated his own power base and garnered a reputation as a tough-as-nails bacta lord with a knack for high fashion, antiquities, and his personal code of honor.
Pursing his lips together, Dyz eyed them over, one by one. Taking an extra moment to inspect Dynamo, he completed his sweep and clapped his hands again.
Four additional guards appeared, from parts unknown. Their armor was heavier than the previous set, and they carried vibro-katanas across their backs, with sideloader pistols attached to their waists. They stood at attention flanking Dyz on both sides, his personal attaché.
"I must say," Dyz began. "You all look rather dashing." He was impressed, making notes of their clothing.
"You there," he pointed to Kya.
She blinked.
"That appears to be Corellian leather, is it not? Some of the finest in the galaxy," he smiled.
Kya nodded gradually, not saying a word.
"And you, clone," he moved his attention to Dynamo. "Armor manufactured on Eriadu, yes? It holds up well against blaster fire, I hear."
Dynamo gave a simple reply.
"Aye."
"Now." Dyz spoke, voice as cool as a still pond, "what is it you've brought me?"
His two hands came together, pressed into a triangle as he spoke. The eyes of their employer lay upon the scientist, not wavering in the slightest.
"The target you requested," Jol spoke for the group. "Dr. Shelvin Loti, extracted directly from Theed."
Dyz crossed his legs, furrowing a brow at the doctor.
"A doctor," Dyz said. "What is it you studied?"
Dr. Loti looked rather confused, in a mixture of fear and hopelessness.
"I uh-.. attended a university on Coruscant. I-..I studied bacta research and applications on cell regrowth."
"A man of principle, then, I assume?" Dyz smirked. "I can admire that. You studied for long, hm?"
The doctor nodded shakily.
"Eight years."
"Tsk tsk tsk, eight years?" Dyz asked, vague curiosity carving its way into his inflections.
"Yes."
Al glanced up to Dynamo, slightly worried. Her expression was not returned.
"You must understand why I hired these fine people to retrieve you, don't you, my good sir?"
"I-I do not.. no.. cloning is outlawed by the Empire." Dr. Loti was beginning to stammer further, and Dyz waved his hand.
"It turns out, you're not the one for me," he said plainly. The doctor shifted a bit in his stance, still somewhat confused.
"In fact," the bacta lord continued, "I was hired myself, to fetch you."
Jol and Kya looked to each other in perilous skepticism.
"However. I'm not a man known to get my hands dirty - not anymore at least.." Dyz mused to himself. "So I hired these beautiful men and women to grab you instead."
"Sounds like you didn't want the heat," Kya said, annoyance present on her tongue.
"You will watch your tone around Lord Exum," the attendant responded.
Dyz chortled, waving off the attendant to his chamber.
"When you learn who hired me, you'll understand far more why I contracted you, my best runners."
"We've betrayed you four times," Jol said.
"Exactly. In this business that makes you my best runners," Dyz smiled, opening his arms cordially, "come now, my friends. We're not enemies. We just do good business, yes?"
Dynamo considered moving his hand to the blaster that was holstered along his belt, but knew that any of the four guards could have been watching him from within their helmets.
What the hell is he talking about? He thought. Who hired him then?
"Sure, right," Jol replied. "Now if you just give us what we agreed on, we'll be on our way out, and you can do what you want with him."
"Leaving in such a hurry?" Dyz exclaimed. "Nonsense! You're my distinguished guests."
Al rubbed her shoulder against Dynamo, and he knew what it meant. She was uneasy.
"You'll have to meet the benefactor first," Dyz continued. "Because she hasn't paid me yet. So, I cannot pay you."
"And you think this person will pay you now?" Kya said, growing frustrated.
"Now that they've seen the target has been acquired, precisely," he replied.
Dyz then clapped his hands.
In response, two black-lit screens descended from the ceiling on either side of him.
A voice called out from the entryway to the throne room.
"My lord."
Dyz looked up to the figure in the vestibule.
"She has arrived."
"Excellent. Now we can get this show on the road," Dyz said pleasantly.
Dynamo narrowed his eyes. Something didn't feel right about this, but he hung back and waited patiently to receive their agreed pay.
The two screens lit up, displaying the shape of a ship in the atmosphere, with a shuttle dispatching to the surface.
"Is that your benefactor?" Jol asked.
"My security scanners never lie. See for yourself," Dyz answered tastefully.
The four squinted their eyes, examining the screen closest to each.
Dynamo knew that shape. He could recognize it anywhere. It was the vessel that ferried them from system to system during the endless war. The wedge-shape became synonymous with Republic military power.
A Venator Star Destroyer was parked in the atmosphere.
Painted in the stark, militaristic Imperial gray, a narrow black stripe ran vertically up the hull from bow to bridge towers. It was unlike anything the Empire had fielded in space engagements, openly defying the grand color scheme orchestrated by Palpatine himself.
"Their shuttle has landed," the voice returned to Dyz.
"Good. Escort them here," he replied smoothly.
Dynamo began shuddering. Al eyed him, and in no time she picked up on it, looking on in concern. His eyes remained fixated on the screen, perplexed and utterly afraid by what he saw.
It was a reminder. A war relic he sought to forget.
"You were hired by Imperials!?" Kya exclaimed, temper flaring, a rose-color ascending in her cheeks.
"The price was too pretty to ignore, darling," Dyz shot back.
"If it wasn't for the damn Imperials, we wouldn't have had any issues picking up the target. Why wouldn't they just grab him themselves?"
Dyz pursed his lips.
"Our good Dr. Loti here is on the Emperor's watchlist. Cloning is outlawed, as he said. The old scientists are all monitored, and any Imperial officer found harboring them could face execution."
"So they hired an outside force to pick him up under the Emperor's nose?" Jol asked.
"That's right," Dyz said. "Or at least.. that's what I've deduced. I don't know much more than you do."
"Great, so now we're the ones on the watchlist," Jol muttered under his breath.
Dynamo remained uncomfortably still, waiting, listening.
The sound of boots marching became audible. All at once, in perfect rhythm. A squad of troops perhaps, though he didn't dare turn around to confirm his suspicion.
The marching grew closer, and more ominous, until they reached the very precipice of the throne room. Like a gathering storm. A living reckoning. Menacing spectres on arrival.
"You may enter," Dyz called out. The others turned to see, Dynamo remained rooted.
Dyz eyed the clone curiously, but said nothing as he stood from his seat to greet the arrivals, opening his arms in welcome.
Polished black boots impacted the hardwood floor in concert.
The troopers were dressed in some of the finest armor Imperial credits could afford. Glossy, jet black plastoid, reinforced with nanoparticles that gave it protection from lightsaber blows. Their helmets were those of former clone paratroopers, repainted in a black and red design. Short capes fell from their shoulders, and heavy DC-15s burdened their arms.
They were the symbol of the Empire's elite special forces divisions.
The Purge Troopers.
At the lead were two, one of whom carried an orange accent on their black armor instead of red, perhaps denoting the squad leader.
The second was a woman, carrying her strides with precision. Dressed in the traditional Imperial uniform of a sector governor, their color scheme differed, opting for an all black suit rather than the green-gray sported by most.
Her platinum blonde hair was pulled back into a bun, fitted beneath the tight cap that covered her head. She stopped just beyond Dynamo's group, staring at Dyz himself.
The officer's gaze was colder than ice, like a gale-force blizzard on Ilum, sweeping across the ice-hardened plains and ice flats, sparing no innocent soul trapped within.
She held her hands behind her, standing poised and expectant. Saying nothing, Dyz initiated instead.
"It is good to see you again."
"Cast aside the pleasantries, Exum. You know why we're here." Her voice rolled cleanly from the tongue, harsh and clinical, with the temperature of permafrost.
"That I do, Moff Vantu." He waved his arm towards the Sapphire Angels, who stood gathered around his throne with Dr. Loti between them. Beckoning the Moff forth to examine her prize, she shook her head.
Dynamo froze, chills colder than the prevailing winds on Hoth spilling down his spine like the flow of oil.
Vantu.
Admiral Vantu.
He thought his ears were playing a trick on him, but he knew her bitter, stately tone anywhere. Having commanded the transport and protection of the 404th for over two years, the clones had grown used to her grudging pragmatism and powerful resolve for desirable outcomes.
Then he remembered Quermia.
Karma said they were killed. Destroyed. All of them.
Did he miss one?
This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. Seeing a clone in Theed was one ordeal, it could be shrugged off as a freak accident. But encountering your former admiral, long thought dead, while under the employ of one of the fiercest criminal lords in the Inner Rim?
This was a nightmare, and he would know.
"You left quite a mess on Naboo," she replied.
"Guess that means we were doing our job right then," Jol interjected smugly. Dyz shot him a look.
The curl of a smirk tugged at the edge of her lips.
"You did well. But it appears one of you isn't capable of displaying the respect an Imperial Moff deserves."
Her eyes found Dynamo's back, who was still rigid, a victim of shock.
"She's speaking to you, boy," Dyz said.
Dynamo nodded hurriedly, but could not move.
"Acknowledge her," he urged.
He turned slowly on his heels to face her. Their eyes met instantly, and she withdrew in surprise.
"A clone!" She exclaimed in faux shock.
Dynamo exhaled sharply in frustration, keeping his emotions in check as Al interlocked her fingers with his.
The lead trooper at her flank raised his rifle, the charge of plasma could be heard.
Reactively, Jol and Kya raised their rifles in defense of their clone companion.
Vantu never wavered, nor even blinked. She raised her hand to the rifle at her side and brought it down.
"Lower your weapon commander, we don't want to make a mess of things for Lord Exum, do we?"
"No sir," the commander said, helmet vocalizer sounding garbled.
Dyz rolled his eyes.
Vantu returned her attention to Dynamo.
"Defector? Deserter? What are you?" She asked calmly.
"Honorable discharge," Dynamo lied.
"For?"
"Advanced age."
She chuckled.
"Criminality must be your new vice, eh?"
He did not reply. She pressed him further.
"What division were you, trooper?"
Dynamo visibly winced at the mention of trooper. His opponent definitely noticed.
He knew that admitting his allegiance to the 404th would draw even further unwanted attention. Something else was needed. Another lie.
"...the 212th Battalion," he mustered to say.
The trooper commander stepped forward to equal Vantu, while his rifle became gripped rather aggressively. Dynamo couldn't see through the transparisteel of his visor, but he could feel the unflinching stare from his armored counterpart.
"Well, well, well. What a coincidence, you served under Kenobi then," Vantu said sardonically. She placed a hand on the shoulder of her commander.
"Trooper, I would like you to meet someone. Your former commander."
Dynamo winced again, blinking at the black and orange trooper, in silent pain. His palms were beginning to sweat and the room felt cold.
Vantu smirked, introducing her right hand man.
"You may have known him during the war as Cody."
Commander Cody. Second-in-command to famed Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi, Cody was renowned for his skill and tactic on the battlefield, and his notable friendships with the Commanders Rex and Wolffe. Once a figurehead of the Republic's war effort, he became a twisted pawn of Palpatine's machinations in one fell stroke. How he came into league with former Admiral Vantu was unknown.
Dynamo grew red. He knew he was screwed, and he wouldn't hesitate to throw himself over the edge of Dyz's balcony in that very moment.
Cody raised his rifle again, charging the plasma. Jol and Kya's defensive stances persisted.
"He's lying," Cody said. This time, his vocalizer worked just fine. The voice was distinctively that of a clone, or semantically, the voice of Jango Fett.
"How can you tell?" Vantu asked.
"His threat hostility is rising, I can detect it in his temperature output."
Moff Vantu searched Dynamo with her eyes before smirking.
"You wouldn't raise a weapon against a superior officer, would you trooper?"
Dynamo grew more unnerved, swaying back and forth in anxiety. His eyes fell to the floor, emotions rushing around the room. Inside, he was screaming. Outside, he looked dead.
At that moment, he would raise a weapon, but not to Cody. To her. His temper remained buried, fortunately.
Dyz took heed of the man's blatant body language, interrupting.
"Vantu. Please. Let us settle this deal and be done with it."
"Ah yes, Dyz. I almost forgot you were here," Vantu smiled up at the one seated on the throne, which she eyed. "Does that throne make you feel powerful?"
"I beg your pardon?" He replied.
"Do you feel influence over others from that seat? Do you feel important?"
"You dare step into my house and question my status?"
"I'll take that as a yes then," Vantu retorted, looking back to Cody. "Fetch him." She felt confident that she wielded the power in that room, not Dyz.
Cody latched the rifle to his belt, stepping forward to seize Dr. Loti.
Dyz's guards immediately found pistols in their hands, all four aiming point-blank at Cody's helmet, who then froze.
"Dyz. Lower your weapons," she said.
"Where is my payment?"
"That deal is off. I'm here for what's mine now," she sneered.
"You either pay up or you can get the hell out of my fortress."
Jol and Kya kept their rifle sights focused on the five troopers behind Vantu, who had not moved a muscle.
"You think I lack honor? That I will bend the rules whenever it suits me like an Imperial?" Dyz scoffed.
"No. I just think you lack the means to stop me," Vantu said.
"Try me."
She raised her hand, and with it, the remaining five troopers drew rifles to their sights, keeping their aims fixed on Dyz and Jol, respectively.
"I will be taking him, Dyz."
"Why do you want him anyway?" Kya spoke up, watching Cody's movement as he edged closer to them under the cover of his men.
"Oh my dear," Vantu started, "he's essential to building order."
"Order?"
"Of course. Something this galaxy will be sorely lacking in the coming years."
"I'd wager your Empire does a good job at that."
She waved Kya off.
"Don't be absurd. The Empire is nothing more than a bunch of oversized ships and walkers, imposing their will but spread oh too thin across a vast galaxy."
"I'm not following."
"The Empire cannot hope to maintain order across such an impressively lawless galaxy. Someone is bound to slip through the cracks eventually and bring the Emperor's house of cards tumbling down. I'm preparing for that day."
"And you think that person seizing power will be you?"
"Perhaps not. But when the time comes, the good doctor here will assist the transition to order. Empowering a prize I pillaged from the Jedi on Ossus, to take care of all who oppose." The Moff couldn't resist an opportunity to gloat, beaming in pride at an accomplishment that few understood.
Dyz's guards remained fixed on Cody, as he neared the Sapphire Angels and Dr. Loti.
"Take one more step commander, and your helmet will be gaining a new color," Dyz said.
Dynamo, lost in his own consciousness, snapped to reality, noticing the encroaching commander on his team. His hand detached from Al's and slipped down to his blaster holster.
Moff Vantu sighed.
"I really didn't want it to come to this Dyz, I didn't."
"Then pay up."
"I expect you to handle the costs for these spacefaring vandals," she motioned to Jol and Kya.
Dyz remained silent, musing over his own thoughts as the standoff held. Finding the right words, he attempted to use them to his advantage.
"It's a shame that I know why you refuse to pay."
"Oh? Do enlighten me."
"Your little pet project over on Baradas. You think it's a secret, don't you?"
Vantu shifted a bit, growing uneasy for the first time. Dyz smirked and pushed her further.
"I know exactly what you've been doing, and that's why you refuse to admit it. You've bankrupted yourself on that little conquest and I've caught onto you."
The Moff's uneasiness dissolved, and only anger replaced it.
"I grow tired of this," she spat, turning towards the doors. "Troopers. Clean it up."
The room grew quiet in the seconds that followed.
Everyone knew what that meant.
Dynamo wrenched his pistol from its holster as a storm of blaster fire erupted across the room.
With a pair of immaculate shots, two of Dyz's guards collapsed on the floor.
The blaster fire bounded off the armor of the purge troopers, wailing across the throne room like streaking plasma missiles.
Dynamo grabbed Al by the shoulder and threw her to the ground behind one of the support beams that ran to the ceiling as a few bolts grazed their gear, singing the mesh in Al's clothing.
Cody, simply walking through the blaster fire, approached Jol and lifted him by the throat as Kya ducked down behind another beam and dragged Dr. Loti with him.
Another of Dyz's guards came forward with his vibro-katana, surgically dismantling the troopers' weapons, slicing cleanly through each DC-15, only to be kicked to the floor with the overwhelming strength of the soldiers themselves.
As he attempted to stand in defense, the four troopers brought down thudding blows onto the guard, and he shrunk back down as another fatality.
Dyz swept from his throne, two swords appearing in his hands as he ducked to avoid blaster fire. He dove at Cody, knocking him backwards with the blow of the swords, as Jol dropped, clutching his throat in distress.
The other purge troopers, scanning the room, located Dr. Loti with their HUD sensors. They approached him, igniting their electrobatons to bluntly swing at another of Dyz's guards with nearly decapitating strikes.
Kya rained blaster fire down on the troopers, but it did nothing but slow them down, while the deflected bolts landed in a nearby bacta tank, leaving four broken holes in the glass.
Bacta streamed down to the floor towards Al and Dynamo like gushing lava, and they hastily left their cover, moving to Jol's aid as Dyz and Cody swapped punches like two heavyweight Gamorreans.
Cody attempted to reach for the rifle attached to his belt, but Dyz kicked the blaster off of its perch, sending it across the room.
In a snarling silver fury, Dyz drew his two swords horizontally to Cody's neck, in an attempt to find a weak spot in his armor and remove his head.
No such weak point existed, and Cody seized the opportunity, grabbing the swords in his gloved hands and nearly bending them backwards.
Dyz looked on in horror at the display of strength, long enough to endure a swift kick in the chest from his adversary, sending his body down hard to the wood.
Cody fetched his blaster from the floor and barked orders to his troopers.
"Fetch the doctor. Flood the room. Return to the hangar. Now!"
One of the troopers obliged with an uppercut to Kya, knocking her clear across the room, sprawled unconscious as two others hoisted Dr. Loti to his feet and dragged him out of the room, as he pleaded in opposition.
The last of them took to the nearby bacta tanks that hadn't yet been punctured, and deactivated their supply. Using the butt of his broken rifle, he smashed the glass open, and bacta began flooding out into the room. He expediently followed after the others back to the hangar, closing the door just enough to let Cody out.
Al clutched Jol's hand as his eyes fluttered in and out of consciousness. His skin was growing pale as he gasped for air. The bacta overtook his body and she dragged him up to a nearby table.
Dynamo came to his feet and charged Cody from behind. Leaping onto his fellow clone's back, he attempted to rip off the impervious helmet while bacta swelled around their feet.
He was the only one in the room who knew how. The emergency release latch, a small button embedded at the base of his neck. Barely the size of a bobbin, he found it after a brief struggle and jammed it with his fist.
Decompressed air surged from Cody's helmet as Dynamo threw it to the floor. Cody reached behind him and grasped Dynamo's collar, catapulting the clone smuggler clean over his now helmetless head and bringing him crashing down onto a stone counter, one that Dyz used to entertain guests.
As the bacta level in the room grew higher, Dyz was seen struggling to get to his feet, eyeing the predicament and rushing to Kya's side in an attempt to wake her before she drowned.
Dynamo recovered from the attack quickly, turning his attention upward to see his own aged reflection glaring down. However he was soon met with Cody's closed fist.
His world went black amidst the rising tides of bacta.
Author's Note: This chapter taught me how bad I am at writing blaster/brawl dialogue. I'm better at larger battles and lightsaber duels than I am blaster fights. But, practice makes perfect.
For those of you getting confused by the number of characters involved right now, don't worry, it'll start to be trimmed down soon. I'm also releasing a character guide for Act 2 and 3 probably tomorrow as a reference.
This was also the most painstaking chapter to write so far. Because of its length, returning characters, introductions, action scenes, and key exposition, I had to shuffle a lot and make some cuts to scenes I thought were dragging the narrative a bit. If any chapter in this story was allowed to have a Lord of the Rings "Extended Cut," it would be this one. At least - for now.