Chapter 4: Stealth Mission

I don't own Star Wars at all.

Stealth is simple. You just aren't there, and you never were. Or you are there, but you're supposed to be. If you make it complicated, then you're doing it wrong, and you will get caught.

Of course, it helps to have a stealth field generator.

Bastila disapproved of my plan, obviously, because it involved me being in the Sith base all by myself. Carth and Zaalbar didn't like it either.

"What if you get caught?" Carth said. "It's too risky."

"He's right," said Zaalbar, pulling at his vest. "You're sneaky, Mission, but you're not perfect."

"Guys, if you all come with me, then it won't be a stealth mission anymore. It's gotta be me. Just me."

Janus rubbed at his soul patch. "She's right."

"If something happens to her," Bastila protested, "how will I justify it?"

"Then say no," Janus suddenly snapped, whirling to face her. "You are the general. Say no."

Bastila narrowed her eyes at Janus, but still kept calm.

"It's your call," Janus repeated, softer this time. "But everyone here knows that Mission is our best bet."

Bastila squeezed her eyes shut tight. "Fine. But take a commlink with you. If, Force forbid, something should happen, you need to be able to contact us for help."

"Sounds good," I said. "But you guys can't call me on it, alright?"

"We won't," Bastila promised.

It only took three seconds for T3 to open the door to the Sith base. It was nearly midnight, and T3 and I were the only ones on the street. I already had my stealth field turned on, ready to enter. I patted T3's head as I snuck in, so he'd know I got in and that he could close the door back. He would stay outside. Once I got the codes and made it back to the entrance, I would contact him on another commlink to open the door for me, in case I couldn't open it from the inside.

It was dark inside the base. Only the night lights were on. I crouched by the reception table, listening. I heard the quiet hum of the ventilation shafts, but nothing else. I waited about a minute before slipping behind the table and slicing the computer open.

I squinted against the screen's harsh blue glare. You would think they'd have a nighttime setting, but I guess you wouldn't need that if no one used the computer at night.

I figured since a receptionist wouldn't need to know the launch codes that they wouldn't be on this computer, but I checked anyways. They weren't.

I hooked up my datapad (which did have a night setting, with the brightness set as low as it would go) and downloaded the map of the base. I also took the opportunity to check the cameras.

And there was one pointed right at the reception desk.

I swore inside my head. Even if they couldn't see me, they would know that a stealthed someone had accessed the computer and searched for the launch codes.

Fortunately, my brother had taught me a thing or two about hacking into cameras, so after I cleared my search history, I covered up the incriminating footage with a loop of footage from before I snuck in. Someone could still know something was off, but hopefully it would buy us enough time to get offworld.

I removed the computer spikes and turned off the computer, and not a moment too soon, as I heard two guards approaching from one of the doors. I ducked behind the desk.

The door slid open with a hiss, and two Sith soldiers walked out.

"I hate night duty," one of them said. "It messes with my circadian rhythm."

"Your what?"

"My circadian rhythm. You know, your body's sleep cycle."

Circadian Rhythm and Confused Man passed the desk without noticing me.

"Then why didn't you just say sleep cycle?"

"Never mind."

"What is your problem?"

"My problem?"

I waited a few moments after their voices faded away before I moved again. I checked the map on my datapad, made note of the intelligence base, and slipped down the opposite hallway so I wouldn't run into the soldiers again.

After sneaking down a few hallways and avoiding the notice of a cleaning droid, I found the intelligence base. I cracked the security lock on the door, and inside, I found a large, high-ceilinged room full of computers lit by a dim red light. Perfect.

I chose a computer out of sight of the door I'd just come through (I'd left it open so I could get out faster, without having to worry about opening the door right in front of another Sith patrol). I sliced the computer and plugged in my datapad. These computers did have a night setting, which meant that the soldiers used these at night. I would need to stay alert for anyone coming in.

As if I wasn't already.

I checked for cameras again, and rigged up the two inside with repeated footage. I smiled to myself. Simple.

Now for the codes. I did a quick search, but instead of the codes popping up, all I found was a memo dated two weeks ago.

Alright, idiots, listen up and repeat after me. The launch codes are not for sale! I don't know how any of you thought that trying to sell the launch codes to Davik Kang was a good idea. To prevent further theft, the Sith governor now keeps the only copy of those codes on his personal datapad. And in case any of you get any more bright ideas, just know that the governor personally executed the thief last night.

So, please, keep your hands in your own business, and we'll get on just fine.

I swore up and down inside my head. Now I would have to steal the Sith governor's personal datapad! Actually, I'd first have to find the datapad, wherever he kept it, then download the codes, and then put the datapad back where I found it so no one would suspect anything.

I huffed. The longer I stayed, the greater the chance that I would get caught. I pulled up the map again and found a suite labeled as the Sith governor's on the floor below this one.

I felt myself getting nervous and told myself (in my head, of course) to stay calm, which only made my heart go faster.

But here's the deal about stealth. You don't panic. You never panic.

I thought back to the conversation from before I left the apartment, when Bastila had warned me about the Sith.

"There may be a Dark Jedi in there," she had said.

"A Dark Jedi?"

"They were once Jedi, like me, but then they fell to the dark side and joined the Sith ranks. You must be very careful."

"Obviously."

She pursed her lips.

I cleared my throat. "So, the dark side, huh? What's that about?"

"The dark side feeds on pain, anger, and fear. If a Dark Jedi catches you, they will show you no mercy. They will kill you without a second thought."

"Oh." I looked down a moment. "Wait, what do you mean, feed?"

Bastila looked away for a moment. Then she turned back and said, "The Jedi draw their strength from the light. We focus on peace and selflessness. We are most powerful when we empty ourselves of personal emotion."

"And the dark side?"

"Right. The dark side is the opposite. The Sith, the Dark Jedi, they are most powerful when they are full of hatred, when their passions consume and control them."

"Then how have they managed to make it this far in the war?"

Janus interrupted here. "Because they're not always raving lunatics, just like Jedi aren't always emotionless machines."

Bastila frowned. "I am not a machine. I'm as human as you are."

T3 made a sad "dwoo" sound.

"Don't worry, T3," Janus assured him. "We know droids have feelings, too."

"Anyways," Bastila continued, "the Sith and the Dark Jedi are strong with the Force. They can sense your emotions, your intentions, even read your thoughts. Please be careful, Mission."

"I will."

So the Sith fed on fear. And could read minds. Great. There was a good chance that the governor was a Sith, or maybe his bodyguard, if he had one. Oh, boy.

Fortunately, I had a method for calming myself down, tried and true.

In my head, I began making the little beeping and chirping noises that droids do when they're talking to themselves.

Beep-beep-beep. Chirrrp.

Yeah, yeah, I know it was silly. But it worked, everytime. I could feel myself relax.

Woooo. I'm not here. I am a droid. Deet-deet.

I studied my map again. Then I cleared any trace of myself from the computer, tiptoed into the hallway, closed the door, and headed for the governor's suite.

On the way, I felt the stealth field around me getting uncomfortably warm. The belt was overheating. I'd been in there too long and needed to let the belt cool down.

I pulled up the map, did a quick search for all the cameras, and found a nearby room that didn't have any. Perfect.

The security code was harder to crack on this door than the others. And the second the door slid open, I about had a heart attack.

In the middle of the dark room, a yellow force cage sizzled, harsh and bright. I could see a figure inside the cage, kneeling.

"Who's there?" said the figure in the cage, his voice a rough whisper. He spoke in Huttese with a Duros accent.

I stood, frozen. But just as I made to slip away, he spoke again.

"Is someone there? Please, is someone there?" He was begging.

I scanned both sides of the hallway and saw no one. I walked inside the room, and this time, I closed the door.

The kneeling Duros slumped forward and held his head in his hands.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he mumbled to himself.

Then I turned off my stealth field, and about gave the Duros a heart attack of his own.

He gave a strangled gasp, barely managing to suppress a shout.

"Who are you?" he asked, much quieter than before.

I crept closer. As I got used to the yellow glare of the force cage, I made out the form of the poor Duros trapped within. He was middle-aged. Gray jumpsuit, green skin, red eyes. Nothing remarkable. But I did notice that his eyes shone with tears.

"My name is Mission," I whispered in Huttese.

"What are you doing here?" Then his face lit with hope. "Did my neighbor hire you to find me?"

I hesitated. "No," I said, "but I'll get you out anyway."

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice rising in anticipation. "The switches are on the wall behind you, but be careful," he said as I turned away. "If you press the wrong one, the cage will overload."

I examined each switch carefully. After reading each label twice by the light of the force cage, I finally pressed the switch labeled "release."

The force cage gave a low whir, and then, with a quiet sizzle, the cage deactivated.

The Duros shook at the knees as he stood and stepped toward me.

"Thank you, child. I thought I was going to die here," he said as he reached for me.

I stepped back, instinctively reaching for my vibroblade.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's fine," I said, still tense. I wasn't scared, exactly, but there was a reason I had that reflex, you know. "Why were you in there?"

"Let's just say I was helping some friends avoid the Sith's notice. Can you show me the way out of here?"

"I can upload the map to your datapad."

"The Sith took mine, but you can just show me. I've got a photographic memory."

I showed him the map. He studied it for about a minute before handing it back to me. Then I called T3 and told him that someone who wasn't me would come to the door soon. He would knock three times.

"When he knocks, you open the door, alright?"

T3 whirred.

"He's a prisoner. We have to help him."

T3 beeped.

"Thanks, little friend."

The Duros crept to the door to listen for any Sith.

"Wait," I said. "You said you have a photographic memory?"

"Yes?"

"Did the Sith governor ever come in here?"

"Once, very briefly."

"Did he have a datapad? Do you remember where he kept it?"

The Duros closed his red eyes and frowned. "Yes. He kept it in the left pocket on the skirt of his robes."

"His left or your left?"

"His. It's an open pocket. No flap or button. The same size as his datapad."

"Alright. Good luck."

"Thank you, child, and be careful! They say the governor has powers like a Jedi."

"I'll be careful," I assured him.

The governor lay flat on his back, fully clothed in long, black robes. One pillow, no blanket.

Through a series of tricky maneuverings, I had found his bedroom. The suite was practically empty, containing only the most basic necessities. A table, a refresher, a closet with three changes of robes. I stuck my hands in the pockets, but of course, they were empty. But there were no drawers, no cabinets, no place to keep anything personal. And I searched everywhere.

The only extravagance to be found was a strange room with no obvious purpose. A rich red rug covered a small circle in the center of the large room. Five huge, black spikes rose from the edges of the floor and arced into points above the red circle. It looked like a mouth, or a grasping hand. It felt cold. The datapad wasn't there.

The last room was his bedroom, and I knew that the datapad had to be in the pocket of the robes he was wearing. There was literally nowhere else it could be.

Beep-beep. Whir.

I had turned my stealth field back on. I was calm. Pickpocketing is the oldest trick in the book.

I crept up to his left side, as quiet as falling dust. The governor's chest rose and fell. His eyes were squinted shut, his mouth set in a frown.

What was it my brother always said? Tricky fingers. That's right, he always said I had tricky girl fingers.

Of course, he said that about Lena, too.

Chirp. Dee-deet.

The governor let out a snore, but I didn't jump, no siree. I stayed as still as Lower City air. His breathing relaxed again.

I slid the datapad out of his pocket and hid in a corner of the room. I bypassed the security (which was even tougher than the torture room, but not to worry), hooked up my datapad, and downloaded the launch codes. Mission accomplished.

Well, not quite.

I tiptoed on my light, clever feet back to the bed. I lifted the pocket and slowly slid his datapad back in.

Deet-deet. Whizz.

Then his hand slammed down mine, and his eyes flew open. I gasped, my experience in stealth ensuring that I would never scream.

But while he crushed my hand in his, his eyes remained wide and unfocused.

He looked at me through my stealth field. "R-Rayna? Rayna, is that you?"

I hesitated for only a moment. And then I remembered what Lena had taught me, two years ago, just before she stole my brother away.

Be soft, never make demands. Speak like a child. They will never suspect you, and that's how you'll get whatever you want.

In my best impression of Lena's cantina voice, I whispered, "Hush, baby, go back to sleep."

He squinted at me in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

I put my other hand over his hand and smiled. "It's okay, baby, go back to sleep."

He was silent for a moment, just looking at me. And then he asked me, "Is it true you were pregnant?"

"Shhh."

He suddenly lunged and grabbed my shoulder with his other hand. His yellow eyes pierced mine as his voice rose into a shout.

"IS IT TRUE YOU WERE PREGNANT?"

Tell them what they want to hear.

I took a steadying breath. "Yes," I whispered.

He released my shoulder, as suddenly as he had grabbed it. His gaze softened. Then he lowered his hand, and, with a startling gentleness, he brushed my stomach with his fingertips.

"I'm sorry, Rayna," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. She would have been beautiful."

Then he frowned, and he pressed his palm flat against my stomach.

"Or… or she will be. Beautiful like you. Can't tell…."

Then he closed his eyes and slumped onto his back again. After a moment, he began to snore softly.

He still had his other hand over mine, but his grip soon relaxed. I slid the datapad fully into his pocket and made my escape, my heart still racing.

"Remember," Lena had told me, "an adult is an equal, a dancer is a plaything, and a child is a piece of furniture, useful only when someone remembers they exist. You can use any of these to your advantage because you're clever, Mission. But I hope you never have to."

I never thought that my brother-stealer would one day save my life.

T3 closed the door after me, and we made our way through the empty streets. I refused to turn off my stealth field until we entered the apartment complex, even though I could feel it starting to overheat.

After I turned it off, I knelt beside T3 and asked, "Did our Duros friend make it out okay?"

T3 beeped.

"Good. Thanks, buddy."

A/N: Hey, people. Thought I'd leave an author's note this time. So, I thought it was strange that the Sith in the game didn't give a rip about PC and company busting into the base, slaying soldiers and stealing the codes. I mean, I get it's a video game, but still. And I also wanted Mission to have her own chapter to show off her skills, hence the solo stealth mission.

I hope the part with the governor wasn't too creepy for you guys. While the other companions could have fought him, I don't think Mission would have lasted long in a 1v1 fight with him, so she needed a challenge that she could overcome with her wits and sneakiness. And yes, that part where he says, "she will be beautiful," is meant to be a sort of prophecy/force vision of a possible future.

I'm really enjoying the process of writing this story. It is soooooo fun to get inside a side character's head, especially Mission's.

So if you like this story, drop me a comment. It gets a little lonely writing into the void.