Author Notes:
Let's see how Mission and Dustil are doing (they've been better). We learn a bit more about the Adasca villain. And Zayne and Juhani drop in **snicker**.
One sentence of torture at the end of the first section - no graphic description, I don't have the heart for it.
Mission opened her eyes slowly. Painfully. Why is it so damn bright in here? No, that wasn't right. She squinted and cracked her eyelids just enough to realize it was almost totally dark. The dizzying light was coming from behind her eyes.
She groaned from her position on the cold floor.
"Mission?"
Dustil's concerned voice quietly separated some of the fog in her brain. Relief flooded her. She thanked the Force that they were still together.
"Where are we?" she asked, teeth grinding against the million piercing blades that stabbed into the back of her eyes.
Dustil snorted. "Back where we started. You lost a lot of blood, but they patched you up enough. It's been a couple of days, though. I think."
"You think?"
"Yeah, can you believe they wouldn't let me keep my wrist chrono?" he replied sarcastically. "I love you, but you are frelling cranky in the morning."
Sudden memory caused Mission's body to jerk upright in alarm, only to falter partway and drop achingly back to the ground. After a minute of panting and reassuring words from Dustil, she managed to get out the thought that had caused her fright.
"Your arm?"
"Not too good. Something's not right with my back either. I haven't been able to stand."
Dread filled Mission. Dustil had taken such a beating at the hands of that bastard. She hadn't missed the subtle straining tones of pain in his voice, barely discernible underneath the rasp of disuse and that implacable Jedi calm, but obvious enough to her.
Oh, my poor baby, she thought, but only said "So we're stuck."
"Well, I am."
"I don't think I'm going anywhere fast, even without you." Mission rolled her head around to take in their dim surroundings. It looked like they were in the same cell they'd escaped, but she was sure this facility had many identical places for holding prisoners. They hadn't been lost to the prison bureaucracy, however, because their door suddenly opened and a recognizable figure stepped through. It was that Sith Arkanian with the freaky weapons, what was his name? Torval.
"Hey buddy," Mission croaked. "Come to apologize?"
He bared his teeth; it was another odd response for these high composed Arkanians, but she got the message.
"I am still determining whether I find your use of humor hateful or admirable."
Torval stepped into the room, wearing the same cloak as before but with the hood down now. His face was completely average for what she knew of Arkanian purebloods, and even though outwardly calm, his eyes radiated a hatred that felt almost xenophobic.
In the light of the open doorway, she got her first good look at Dustil. He was propped up against the wall, hands still shackled behind him. Dried blood was smeared liberally about his face and around the torn sections of clothing. He had been able to mostly heal his open wounds (and hers, she noted), but she could tell that the source of his pain was deep within that battered frame.
"Better learn to admire it, because I'm hilarious," she retorted while her mind rushed to figure whether he was there to kill them, torture them, or experiment on them.
Torval smiled wickedly. "Perhaps that sense of humor will be useful to you while I ask you some questions."
Shit. Torture it was. Oh well. She'd been tortured before, and she was fairly certain Arkanian experimentation wouldn't be worse.
Torval gestured behind him and a cart was rolled in. A lumpy object lay atop it, covered in a cloth. The door was closed behind them and in the darkness, she only heard him uncover the thing.
Kark, is that moving?
"This fascinating creature is one of my own creations," Torval proudly elucidated. Unable to see his face, Mission's senses sharpened on his voice and she picked up the odd sounds in his speech that didn't quite match the Arkanian patterns she knew. "The most exciting thing about it is that, despite careful genetic shaping, it did not perform as I intended. However, once I learned its ways I realized that it was far superior to what I had originally envisioned. Truly the hands of the gods are blessing my mission." She could sense his feral smile.
"Dustil, as the expert on religious nut jobs, how crazy do you think this guy is? One is Jedi, five is Sith, ten is gizka worshipper."
She could sense Dustil's smile as well. "I dunno, maybe like a senator from-"
Mission never heard the rest of his reply. Something like a cold, supple tentacle seized her arm, and then there was only fear and screaming.
Adasca made Torval enter her office wing via the same highly secured route as everyone else, as every scientist and corporate executive and politician that worked for her. She knew what lay beneath that pureblood façade – a strange alien demon. He would never be a trusted advisor, not like his predecessor who, even after several years, she had still been unable to truly replace.
Sometimes it amused her to watch him on the security cameras as he was scanned by both living and robotic Adascorp guards, to see his face wrinkle slightly in what she had come to recognize as his peculiar expression of barely controlled rage.
"What did you learn?" she asked him the moment he stepped into her inner office.
"They are not here to work with the insurgents, or at least that was not their original intent." Torval stopped in front of her desk and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. He would never sit, and she had quickly stopped offering. She suspected he even slept standing. "They are sympathetic to their cause, of course. But they were sent here by the Jedi Order to search for crystals that can be used in lightsabers. And they were looking for information on who else might also be acquiring such crystals," he added with a meaningful look.
"Ah…" Adasca leaned back in her desk chair and steepled her fingers together in thought. She shot Torval a sideways glance. "This is the first time you've admitted to knowing about my business partners."
"They are our partners as well," the hooded man responded evenly. "We are all trusted allies of the other."
Adasca dismissed the platitude as quickly as she did every such notion that drifted ingratiatingly across her ears. Business and trust were near antonyms. Unfortunately, her partners were necessary at this moment in time. "And other Jedi?"
"There are two more that came with them. One is a mere apprentice, but the other is the Cathar master, Juhani."
"My dear Torval, are you scared?" Adasca goaded with narrowed eyes. He bared his teeth in response. She didn't know if this petulant display of his was considered intimidating at other times, but in his Arkanian disguise, it simply made the brute look ridiculous.
"I do not know fear, but I do know respect. The Cathar is a dangerous foe; we would be wise not to underestimate her."
"All Jedi are dangerous. What makes this one especially so?"
"She is reported to be a powerful warrior," Torval answered.
Adasca barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. What was it with their culture and warrior worship?
"You, my friend, are a prime example of the overvaluation given to those who do the fighting. Look at what we've accomplished here, you and I, and what the generations of Adascorp before me achieved. Those individuals of science and ambition and vision, they are the ones who shape the futures of whole societies." She sipped delicately from her glass of purified water, eying Torval's disapproving face over the rim. "You undervalue individuals like ourselves. The Republic was not built on the backs of warriors, and it is not controlled by the warriors. Look at our navy! It's a pitiful semblance of what it was only ten, fifteen years ago; it certainly won't be able to stop the plans that we've put into motion."
The familiar-faced alien stared back at her silently, probably musing on what punishments she ought to face for her heresy. She admired the way religion had been used in their society, the fanatical devotion that it inspired, but sometimes it was just… a little much.
"So what should we do with our prisoners?" Adasca asked, granting him the reprieve of returning to the matter at hand.
"Kill them," he responded firmly. "They are of no use to us, and they remain a liability so long as they are alive."
"Tsk, tsk, Torval. Surely we can be more creative than that. I mean my goodness, we have a real live Jedi at our disposal!"
"The Jedi is the largest liability," her advisor cautioned her.
"Expose them both to the virus," Adasca commanded as if she hadn't heard him. "The aberrations in the pathogen vectors study still have not been explained to my satisfaction. If they are not infected, then I will have them executed."
Torval shook his head. "This is unwise."
"Our security here is nearly impregnable," she replied with irritation.
"Every day they are here increases the risk of a rescue attempt or –"
"Just do it," she snapped, wondering if he was truly resisting because of the security risk, or if there was another reason. She had always monitored his activities closely, and she would certainly do so now to make sure that the virus was indeed administered. And he knew that he was closely watched; she had wanted him to know, from the earliest days of their partnership, and had subtly reminded him of it over the years.
And in the end, this was her planet and he knew it. It would be done as she had ordered, whether he complied or not. She glared at him across her desk, coldly daring him to refute her authority.
"As you wish," he finally conceded with a bow of his head. Torval turned to leave.
"Never discard something that could be of use to you, Torval," came Adasca's veiled warning. "A lesson for you to appreciate. Now go see to our prisoners." Her partner bowed his head slightly again, though it carried even more contempt than usual, and made towards the exit. "Don't worry, friend," she called after him. "If the Cathar Jedi turns up she will be dealt with swiftly."
Green streaks of energy erupted from the ends of a dozen weapons at once.
The bolts were deflected away by Juhani's furiously moving blade of blue light; several rounds returned to strike down their senders while Zayne's blaster sounded off, striking down several more. A few stray rounds sailed off towards the chemical vats and were halted by a protecting force field.
A gesture from Zayne's hand knocked over the Arkanian guards on one side; he seized the opening to leap over the edge of the broad walkway, landing several meters below in an aisle amongst a tangled network of pipes. Juhani backed towards the railing more slowly, continuing to weave a shield of protection from the hail of blaster fire. When her boot heel found the edge she flipped backward off it, deactivating her lightsaber on the way down to join Zayne.
"Where are we?" she asked the human, surveying their surroundings. It was much darker down here, in the catacombs of piping and machinery.
"Don't know," he replied weakly. He was leaning against one of the pipes and his breathing seemed to be coming painfully. "But I bet they can't shoot at us down here around all this stuff."
Juhani looked upward to see a pair of guards leaning over the railing to peer down at them, rifles at the ready but not firing. Orders were being shouted as the rest of the guards scrambled to find different avenues down. A few started descending a ladder that ended four meters from their position; several rounds from Zayne buried themselves in the rungs just above their hands and they wisely abandoned that approach.
"You are an excellent shot," Juhani admired as she scanned for a way out of the maze of chemical equipment.
"Thanks. My wife made me practice."
"There is no one coming from this direction," she said, pointing down a path that was formed between rows of tall pumps. It cornered around a bank of computers and after that, the route was impossible to see.
"That's probably the way they want us to go, then."
"So back up?"
"Back up," Zayne confirmed.
"Allow me to go first," Juhani ordered with a light touch on his shoulder. Lightsaber in hand, she leaped back up to land on the walkway. The guards that had been watching them like hawks were ended by her blade as she shot upward, and never found a moment to warn the others. Zayne was only a split second behind her, but he landed badly and toppled onto his side next to the bodies.
"Zayne!" Juhani knelt next to him, probing for his injuries with one hand, lightsaber held at the ready in the other.
"I'm fine," he coughed out, but he failed to stand. Blood coated his teeth. In the distance, a shout of recognition signaled that they had been spotted again.
"Not hardly," the Cathar snapped. "I'm going to make a distraction and then we are getting out of here." She stood and surveyed their surroundings. She was surprised the guards weren't shooting yet; they were only eighty meters away now and there was no equipment near her.
But there were those giant sealed vats directly behind her, protected by an invisible force field. Those must be important – and dangerous – if they wouldn't risk blaster fire near them. With the Force, she lifted one of the fallen durasteel girders in the air and sent all twenty meters of it hurtling at the nearest vat. There was a horrendous electric shriek as it intersected the shield. Sparks exploded outward and shimmering energy revealed the invisible wall for a moment before it vanished with a loud pop. The girder dropped straight to the floor with one end glowing red. Over the painful echoing clang of metal hitting duracrete there were now loud klaxons, joined by flashing red lights.
The facility's security systems were reacting in a big way.
Guards that had been racing towards them suddenly halted to take in the automated activity all around them. Some machinery stopped while other equipment went into overdrive. Giant magnetic doors started to drop over certain exits, computer systems were powering down and new force fields were being activated around alcoves of databanks.
Her distraction had succeeded, but it was also making the odds of escape slimmer by the second.
"Make your escape, Zayne. I will cover you."
"Juhani, that's –" cough "we can go" cough "together just come with – "
She knelt next to him again. "I can handle this. If not, I am sure you will come back for me when you can." She placed a hand on his side. "Now prepare to catch yourself." And with that, she rolled him back off the walkway while sweeping her lightsaber up to block new rounds of blaster fire. The guards had chosen duty over the safety of escape. They looked nervous in a way that trained professionals didn't often exhibit. Something told her that she wasn't the cause of their nervousness. Their eyes kept tugging towards the unshielded vats behind her, and there was a new squad maneuvering down a walkway perpendicular to her own, obviously intent on forcing her from any position that kept the chemicals at her back.
Juhani bared her canines menacingly as she approached them slowly, her blade twirling almost casually while it batted away their blaster fire. The thrill of battle sang in her blood, made her fur stand on end. It was a sensation she would never admit to her fellow Jedi. Only those who had tasted the darkness could ever understand.
So, these elite guards had chosen their duty over escape. They had also chosen death.
With a war cry, she leaped forward through the air, landing in the middle of the nearest group, her body pirouetting while her arms guided her lightsaber through limbs and guns. In a second the guards lay at her feet; if any had not been killed by her then they were quickly finished by their flanking comrades who seized the opportunity to unload indiscriminately in her direction.
The torrent was much fiercer now, and Juhani was forced to move much faster than before to maintain a shield. She risked a glance to find Zayne, saw him stumbling towards an exit where a heavy magnetic door was descending and realized he didn't see it. She dared to split her attention, desperately flinging a furred hand out to send a crude wave of energy towards the dropping barrier.
She was satisfied to see it crumple inward and come to a grinding halt just in time for Zayne to drop and roll safely beneath it, and out of sight. It was in that same moment that the first shot penetrated her parka, burned through her thermal layers, and expended its deadly energy in scorching the flesh below her rib cage. She cried out but maintained her focus, swallowed her pain, turning it into a snarl as she charged down the walkway towards the second group of ArmSec soldiers.
A warning screamed down Juhani's spine as she barreled into her targets, saber slashing through armor, weaving intricate arcs of blue energy that maximized the damage inflicted before the guards could scramble away. The source of the new danger became apparent when a much heavier laser blast exploded at her feet, throwing her and the guards through the air.
Juhani hit the deck hard and searing pain shot through the wound to her torso. She managed to return to her feet in time to deflect another large blast, though it tested the strength remaining in her arms. Tri-legged battle droids had joined the fray now, entering the area from several directions, and a fresh wave of white and blue armored soldiers followed closely behind.
She hurled the muzzle of a severed rifle at the nearest droid; a half meter before contact there was an electric flash and it skittered off in another direction. Shielded, just as she had suspected. A direct approach would not work here.
Juhani leaped backward into open air; she grabbed the supporting frame beneath the grated walkway as she fell, letting her momentum swing herself upward. Her legs hooked around a cross-member and she was now looking straight up at the yawning gash that had been created by the collapse in the ice shelf. She worked hard to concentrate – having her body stretched out, hanging between supports was causing immense pain to her ribs. It would take less than a minute for them to find her, but that would have to be enough time.
She reached out with her mind, ignoring the painful cries from her body, probing the mangled ceiling structure until she found something that would give, and she pulled. Hard. With everything she had in her. Her legs and arms trembled with the exertion and she almost lost her grip when the loud groan of buckling metal filled the cavernous space.
Juhani smiled, unhooked her legs, and swung herself back up onto the walkway, lightsaber blazing. The droids were much closer now and maintained their focus on her, but the soldiers behind them were looking upward with concern that quickly changed to terror. She held her position, furiously dodging and deflecting fire from the droids while the Arkanians scrambled to get off the walkway.
It was too late. The hole suddenly grew wider and more girders and duracrete plummeted down as she herself had not ten minutes ago, crushing man and droid alike. Even those closest to her were flattened under tons of material. Juhani had to dodge through debris herself.
It was the distraction that enabled the ArmSec sniper to bring her down with a careful and powerful blast between the shoulders.
Author Notes:
Mission's sass NEVER QUITS. I love her so much. Don't worry, she's gonna make it, I'm like 80% sure.