As promised, I am back with the next chapter in this quite entertaining arc of the story. Enjoy the read, my friends! Now let's rejoin our favorite Imperial unit and jump into the fray!
"Let's go, let's go, move!" Commander Tharcourt ordered as Delta-7 boarded The Huntsman. The eight troopers jogged up the ramp one at a time, their blasters held close to their chests. He gave each one a slap on the shoulder as they started up the ramp. Freya followed Felian up into the shuttle, the last of his team to board. She found her seat on the starboard side, a space of about three feet between her and Sergeant Daraay to her right.
"Crackin' day for a 'lil trip, eh Daraay?" Thorne said cheerfully. The Death Trooper looked over. Daraay scoffed underneath her black helmet. How this young officer always managed to have such a chipper attitude was beyond her. It was endearing though.
"Yes, ma'am." The sergeant replied. A familiar grey and black astromech rolled from the cockpit area and gently bumped into Freya's right leg. She reached out and pat its vaguely cone-shaped dome.
"Ow ye doin, R-5?" She greeted.
"Beep-boop urnnngh-wheeet." It answered, gently rocking its body. She giggled.
"I really need to get Lago to teach me 'ow t' speak droid." She said. "I take it ye said things is goin' well."
"Whemp-doot-doot beep-blip-boop wheet-wheet."
"He said this is a lot better than his old job, ma'am." Lago smiled. "And that you're his favorite Imperial officer."
"Aww. That's sweet, ye 'lil metal man." Freya said to R-5. "But what about the C'mander now?"
"Murrrrp doot-deet Blooloop beeep. Wheet-wheet ernnnngh." R-5 replied. Lago held his gloved hand over his mouth, trying to mask his chuckling.
"What'd he say?" Freya asked.
"He said Commander Tharcourt's an okay human when he withdraws the stick from his…" The young stormtrooper turned to see Tharcourt standing at the front of the passenger compartment as the ramp raised into position, one of his eyebrows upturned. Lago straightened up in his seat and fell silent, still trying hard not to grin or laugh. R-5 let out a low whine.
"I think I can translate the rest." Drakken said. "R-5, cockpit." The astromech let out an unenthusiastic honk and rolled past his commanding officer and into the cockpit of the shuttle. Drakken took his seat beside Thorne, who was gently shaking with laughter, her face slightly pink. "You think that was funny?" He asked in a deadpan tone.
"Och the nu…" She answered with a snort. "I think it was hilarious, Drakken." He heard a chortle from across the aisle, and shot his head up to see Gallen covering his mouth with a hand, admiring the ceiling of the ship innocently.
"Mutiny…mutiny, I say…" Drakken grumbled. He pressed the button on the bulkhead behind him. "Alright Corporal Ekks, take us to Tatooine…and remember to stop where I told you along the way."
"Yes, sir." Ekks stated back. The shuttle lifted off the floor of the hangar and left the ship, heading toward the Outer Rim.
"Care to give us a wee briefin' about yer home world then, Lago?" Thorne suggested as they began their five-hour flight. Tharcourt smiled a little. Damn good, Freya. He pressed the button behind him again, opening comms to the cockpit so that Ekks could take part in the briefing as well.
"Uh…sure, ma'am." He answered, thinking about how to begin. "It's hot…hot and sandy." Gallen snickered.
"Perfect briefing, Lago." The sniper commented derisively. Lago raised his eyebrows at Gallen.
"Hey, five credits says after this, somebody asks you to describe that rock, you'll say the same thing."
"Focus, men..." Tharcourt grumbled, leaning back against the wall and jamming his feet out into the aisle, his eyes closed and his hands folded over his chest.
"Oh…right…" Lago said. "Sorry sir, ma'am. It's hot year-round though, and the whole planet is just one big desert. No rainfall really…no rivers or lakes either." He figured what was going to be asked next. "All the water comes from moisture vaporators. It's a whole profession there; moisture farming."
"Geez." Mets commented. "Why would you live in a place like that?" Lago shrugged.
"Most people live there because they were born there, and either don't have the credits to move, are happy scratching out a living or they fall into one of two categories."
"Which are?" Gallen asked.
"Criminals and the ones they own." The young stormtrooper said darkly. "Slavery is still a big thing there, and you got indentured servants…people who owe Jabba or somebody credits and have to work them off, and you have low-level crooks that are already in too deep to get out."
"Yep. that's how it happens." Ekks' voice came through the speaker. They all listened as the former Corellian rogue explained. "You think it looks like a good time, or you need a few extra credits…next thing you know, you're in, and the only way out of the game is to end up bleedin' out in a gutter somewhere. Lemme guess, Lago; the Hutt cartel is the largest employer on Tatooine."
"Pretty much." Lago agreed. "I mean, I grew up working in my old man's shop in Mos Espa. I was a shopkeep and a droid mechanic, so I didn't have too much to do with the criminal element. Still, their influence was everywhere. Pretty sure we sold groceries and parts to people in the underworld on a daily basis. As long as we paid a little insurance money to them, we could do business and mind our own business too."
"Wow…that's rough, Lago." Freya said. "Take it that's why ye signed up." He shook his head.
"Absolutely, ma'am." He said. "Anything to get off that planet and into something better than a dusty old shop and a life like that."
"Racial diversity…" Drakken mumbled.
"Huh?" Lago asked. "Oh! Yes sir…Tatooine is eh…mostly human, like most planets in the O.R. There's a good amount of Twi-leks, Weequay and Rodians there too. These little guys called Jawas, they're all over the place." He held his hand up about chest high from the floor. "They're traders that travel around the planet. Oh, watch out too. They'll steal your blaster and try to sell it back to you." He said with a grin. "You have Sand People…uh Tuskan Raiders they're called too. Nobody knows what they really look like under those masks. They live out in the desert, and raid people all the time. They use cycler rifles, and they're good shots."
"I bet I can put a little dent in their self-confidence." Gallen quipped, patting his beloved long-range blaster. Freya rolled her eyes, and Mets snorted. Lago continued his description of his homeworld.
"The cities see a lot of people coming and going. Traders, smugglers, mercenaries, assassins…you even have missionaries and relief societies, right out there on the streets with the pickpockets and spice dealers." He sighed and went on. "But yeah, in the cities, you have even more different species. I can't even name them all."
"A lot of transients…criminals and mercenaries…" Tharcourt repeated out loud. "Interesting. Nobody pays attention to them?"
"Pshhh. No sir." Lago answered. "Heck, people come from all over that sector to hire smugglers and muscle. They congregate in the cantinas and dives on Tatooine. You go into a watering hole back home, and it's like a who's who of criminals and killers." He scoffed. "People getting offed all the time in Mos Espa and Mos Eisley. Nobody really cares unless it's somebody important to a gang. Even then, the criminals take care of it. Know what the police do?"
"Whasat, trooper?" Thorne queried.
"Mainly keep idiots from trying to kill the mayor." Lago replied with a smirk. "Nothing else. Nada. I didn't even think the Empire had a presence on-world until the Commander told us in briefing."
"Well…they didn't." Tharcourt answered, still looking like he was asleep. "Not until a couple months ago. The whole mess with the DS-1…it turns out that the rebels had captured the plans to the station, and they ended up on Tatooine. A platoon was sent to find them, and the persons carrying them. Then there was a company. Then a garrison. Within twenty-four hours, Tatooine went from a dot on the map to a place very important to the Empire."
"Wow." Lago said, surprised that so much had happened on his otherwise dull planet.
"Yep. The plans made it off-world, probably thanks to this Skywalker guy, if I'm piecing everything together right in my noggin." Tharcourt continued. "I guess they found out how to destroy the battle station from there. And that's why we're going there to try and find intel on Skywalker. Like I said, I'm only a lowly commander, and I don't have the full picture, but my guess is that he has a load of top-tier intel on the Empire, and that makes him dangerous. The fact that he took out the DS-1, and from what I understand, has led some us-quality assaults on Imperial installations, he's a Hell of a fighter. Probably the rebel's version of The Grievous."
"What's that?" Freya asked. "Ne'er heard of it, now."
"And you wouldn't have." Drakken said. "He, or it was a sep general in the Clone Wars. I heard he was half-droid and half-man or something. Real combat officer too. I heard The Grievous would come in in the middle of a battle and lay waste to everything in his path. Eh. Just drawing comparisons. Point is, this Skywalker…if he's got friends or family on Tatooine, they probably don't like the Empire very much, and you can expect some resistance. That's why we're going to handle things the way we are…"
The day before...
"Well, Commander Tharcourt…what do you need now?" Veruna said over the holo-call with a know-it-all grin.
"What makes you think I need something?" Tharcourt replied stoically.
"Oh honey, you like, only ever call me when you need something." The ISB agent stated. "You know, you could just beep me to ask how my day's going, and I wouldn't mind at all."
"Okay, well how is your day going, Veruna?" Drakken asked.
"You know, hunting down enemies of the Empire…paperwork…interrogations, typical ISB stuff." She said off-handedly. "I'm wearing a new eyeshadow. It's hella expensive and I think it makes me look extra adorable. You like it?" She leaned in close to the holoprojector lens and blinked a couple of times. Tharcourt flicked his eyes from side to side awkwardly.
"It's…something alright…" He said.
"You should smell my hair right now too."
"What?!" He blurted out indignantly. Veruna giggled.
"I'm using a botanical shampoo. My hair is so silky right now, Drakken."
"Uh-huh." He sighed.
"And I thought you were genuinely interested in what was going on in the world of Zala." She said in a faux-pouting tone. "So, what did you need, sweetie?"
"Well, I'm going on a mission, and I need some advice." Tharcourt began. "I plan on trying my hand at disguise and secrecy to gather some intel, and I figured you'd be the one to ask for tips and pointers."
"Ooo. You going undercover?" Veruna commented. She bit her lower lip for a moment. "I would kill to see that."
"Zala."
"Hmph. Well, where are you going?" She asked.
"I…it's classified." He answered. "I'm not permitted to discuss that." She smiled deviously.
"At least you haven't forgone protocol." Veruna said. "This classified mission wouldn't happen to be on like, a certain desert rock out in the outer rim now, would it?" He couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"It might."
"Do you know how smugglers and mercenaries dress and act?" The intelligence agent inquired.
"I've…really only met two mercenaries in my life." Drakken admitted. "A zabrak girl bounty hunter, and a Mandalorian."
"Ooo. Those guys are wizard." Veruna quipped. "Anyway, here's what you do. Access Imperial files, and look up that planet. Look at images of the cities, and the people there. Bring up a bunch of images of known smugglers and bounty hunters too. You want to emulate their style. Don't rip off anybody in particular though. All these guys have their own image. Develop your own. A look to go with your cover story, you know? Attitude, the way you talk, the clothes, even the weapons. You gotta totally sell it, man."
"I'm not too good at play-pretend." He said. She smacked her forehead with her palm.
"And going undercover was your brilliant idea." She stated dryly, and heaved a sigh. "Fine, how many of you are playing spy?"
"Myself and probably Thorne."
"Alright, you'll be…hmm." Her eyes lit up. "Ooo, Colton Drake, an up-and-coming mercenary. Thorne can be…Rose Feral, your partner and…paramour." She saw Drakken's expression and giggled. "I think she looks like a Rose."
"Paramour…really?"
"Is it that much of a stretch?" Veruna asked with a shrug. "You're playing a part anyway, sweetie. Get into it. Don't act like an Imperial officer who has to follow rules. Act like a rogue…a real bad boy, you know?" She waggled her eyebrows.
"So that's it?" Tharcourt asked. "I just make up a person and put on some civvies and…go talk to rogues?"
"Eh. Pretty much." Veruna shrugged. "Just be real careful not to let real names slip, or to act nervous. That's the two things that get most new field ops caught or killed."
"That's reassuring."
"Hey, you'll do fine, sweetie. You hardly act like an Imperial officer anyway. Just be yourself…without the uniform and rank. You got that swagger and wise-ass thing down already. Roll with it." Drakken shrugged in agreement. What made him the bane of so many superior officers might actually work in his favor this time around. "Stop by some backwater world on your way, and pick up some clothes. If you need help, get that Corellian pirate of yours…oh, I mean pilot…to point out some threads for you."
"Hm. Not a bad idea." Tharcourt mused. "Thanks for the advice, Veruna."
"No prob, Drakken. Try not to get murder-cated, and let me know how it goes."
"Sure."
"And honestly, glad you're doing this. Think of this as a primer for our mission. It might be kinda similar." She added with a wink.
"Oh boy. Be still, my heart." Commander Tharcourt muttered blandly…
The shuttle slowly descended into a valley set within a lush jungle. Ekks landed the craft landed on the hot, humid planet that Commander Tharcourt had picked out on the star map; Rishi. They touched down in a small port within what looked like a moderately-sized population center. The ground crew, a mixture of three humans, two weequay, one Twi-lek and a strange, bird-like humanoid, all stepped back as the team began to disembark the ship. One of the humans finally stepped forward to greet the new arrivals.
"Sir…uh…fellas…hello." He said nervously. "We don't get much in the way of Imperial troops out here." He looked around apprehensively. "There's not a problem or anything, is there? Because if there's anything illegal going on in this port, I don't know anything about…" Tharcourt held up a hand to silence the dark-haired man.
"We're not here on anything you'd call official, son." The commander said. "Just here to buy some supplies is all. We're in a bit of a hurry too, so if there's something illegal going on, I'd rather not know about it…for both our sakes." He shot the man a sly smile and a cocked-up eyebrow.
"Oh yes sir." He answered. "Welcome to Red Valley Intergalactic Spaceport, my friends." Freya looked around at the run-down facility.
"Intergalactic?" She asked curiously.
"Oh…it sounds more inviting, we think, ma'am." The boss of the small landing field answered. "What were you people needing?"
"Got a place to buy food, weapons and clothes in this town?" Tharcourt asked, motioning to the settlement. The man looked confused. Drakken decided to begin his ruse now. "Not that I need to explain myself civilian, but we have to go check up on something, and I have leave afterwards. Seeing as I didn't bother to pack my regular clothes, I'll need an outfit or two." He said, weaving a tale for the younger man. "And I plan on spending my much-needed, well-earned leave doing some quiet but serious gambling here in the Outer Rim. I figured I should buy a small blaster to keep on me just in case." The man shrugged.
"Makes sense. Yeah, there's a few vendors here that can help you out. Just go to the market district and shop around our Outer-Rim Bazaar."
"Outer Rim Bazaar?" Freya repeated. He grinned.
"Yes, ma'am. That's what we like to call it. Makes it seem more…respectable."
"Good enough for me." Commander Tharcourt muttered. "Alright, Ekks, Lago, Thorne…you're with me. Daraay, you come too just in case. The rest of you guard the ship. I expect it to be in one piece when I get back." The man in charge of the spaceport grinned harmlessly.
"For the Empire, yes sir…no worries, sir. As I said, we try to be as respectable as possible, especially to guests."
Respectable was one of the last words Drakken would have used to describe the Outer Rim Bazaar. Many of the merchants set up along the wide avenue in the middle of the town looked as suspicious as the products they were selling. Drakken thought it almost comical that a few of them had coincidentally decided to close up their shops for the day at the very moment they walked past on the street. He occasionally tossed a credit to one of the vendors for a fruit or a piece of grilled meat on a stick just to make the others seem less wary of them, and handed the items off to the other troopers in his squad.
"Outer Rim Bazaar…" Thorne muttered to him as they walked. "Bloody hell, they should call it The Outer Rim's Illegal and Bizarre." Tharcourt chuckled. Indeed, they passed by a vendor selling roasted mynock kabobs, right next to one selling what was obviously stolen E-11 blasters. The later looked at them with fear until Drakken held up a hand and waved, signaling that he hadn't seen a thing. The man behind the table held his hands together and bowed a silent thanks.
"Alright…Ekks?" The commander called. The Corellian came up alongside him, his helmet safely back in the ship.
"Here, sir."
"I asked you to stop here, but I didn't tell you why." Drakken said.
"I was wondern' that meself." Thorne commented quietly.
"Well, I need some clothes, and you're gonna help me and Thorne pick out some." Tharcourt explained. Ekks looked very confused.
"Clothes, commander?"
"Yes. When we get to Tatooine, a couple of us are going in plain clothed to scout around. Me and Thorne need to look like smugglers, mercenaries…"
"My kind of people." Ekks stated with a small grin.
"And why I wanted your advice."
"You need me to help my superior officer look like a common crook…" Ekks contemplated. "Hm. Shouldn't be too hard, commander. You kinda look and act like a rogue sometimes anyway."
"Heh. Agent Veruna said the same thing." Drakken admitted. Freya narrowed her green eyes and pretended to pay no attention to them as she walked.
"There, sir." The pilot said, pointing toward a small shop that had a few racks of clothing outside, along with some boots that all looked like they had seen better days. "A second-hand clothing store is always the best place to start." When Tharcourt cocked his head curiously, he said, "No self-respecting criminal would wear fine suits. That's for the bosses and high-level henchman. You want to blend in with the scum of the galaxy." He led the small band of Imperials to the shop, and the purveyor didn't seem too thrilled with the prospect of having them there until Tharcourt gave his spiel about needing some clothes for his upcoming leave, and offered to pay not only for his purchases, but for her time, and for running off all of her customers as well.
Under Ekks' supervision, Drakken picked out a couple slightly used shirts, one grey and one black. Both were the common utility style with no collar and opening a few inches down on the chest with hook closures. He found a couple pair of perfectly usable trousers with large cargo pockets on the legs, one dark grey and the other black. A light grey cap with a wide bill and a folded-up section on the back, much like the ones worn by some of the rebels he had captured went into his basket as well, along with a pair of old, well-used flight goggles and a pair of fingerless leather gloves. He decided that his knee-high engineer boots would work just fine, but grabbed a leather vest with multiple cargo pockets, figuring it would be useful to hold extra gear, and to hide weapons under.
Next, Freya picked out her disguise. She chose a dark green, tight-fitting shirt. The close-fitting top had a low neckline, long sleeves, and virtually no midriff cover. She opted to wear her short skirt, as it was unlikely for anyone to identify it as Imperial anyhow. Thorne then selected a wide, brown leather belt and a pair of black, ankle-high boots. Somehow, between herself and Ekks, they found a battered old chestplate of unknown maker or material that fit the young ensign quite well. The scuffs and two blaster marks on the armor made Tharcourt momentarily question to himself what had happened to the former owner. It at least looked the part. She found a pair of dark-tinted goggles, and on a whim decided that they would look both cute and rugged if used as a hairband. She grabbed a faded, dark red scarf and declared herself finished with her shopping.
"Sure you don't want something with um…a little more…coverage?" The commander asked, eyeing the skimpy clothing as she placed them on the counter. He could just about picture her in the outfit, and the image was rather awkward.
"I ne'er like wearing more than I can fight well in, sir." She said. "A'sides, Lago said it's gonna be hotter'n the blazin' 'ell there." Drakken let it go at that, knowing better than to argue with her.
He then forced Lago to pick something out in case they needed him as a guide and expert once on-world. Without any prompting, he put together an outfit of tan and white clothing, mostly loose-fitting garments. A brown leather belt and a pair of tall, tan suede boots completed the trooper's ensemble. He made a remark about how everyone on Tatooine dressed in a similar manner. Tharcourt graciously paid for all of the purchases, which added up to eighty credits, then added a fifty-credit tip.
"I'm much obliged, young man!" The elderly, but still shrewd woman stated. "Have fun wherever it is you're going, and try not to get blasted." Thorne gave the old woman a shocked look. "I do hate it when my best customers get killed."
Their next stop was the booth with all of the suspicious weaponry. Commander Tharcourt decided to approach this part of their shopping trip with the appropriate level of tact and diplomacy. He had Daraay, Ekks and Lago stay back on the other side of the street. As he and Thorne approached the once again distrustful-looking vendor, Drakken raised his hands in a sign of peace. As he reached the table, he spoke.
"White flag, my man." He said with a disarming smile. The bearded human eyed him warily. "I don't know what illegalities you're up to, and frankly, I don't give a damn. We're not here to step on anyone's toes."
"Well…what do you want?" The man asked.
"Believe it or not, I want to buy some things." Tharcourt replied. "A couple blasters and maybe holsters to fit them. Maybe a couple good knives too, and you weren't here if I wasn't here."
"Riiiggghht…" The arms dealer said sarcastically.
"You see any illegal activity on this rock, Ensign?" Drakken asked innocently. Thorne smiled sweetly.
"I ne'er saw nothin' suspicious, C'mander. Looks honest enough t' me."
"See?" The commander shrugged. "Just a business transaction, sir." The man sighed.
"Seein' as you have me between a black hole and a hard place, what do you need?"
Drakken browsed through the man's wares, selecting two blaster pistols and the twin holsters to match. The dealer commented that the weapons were called 'Westar 35 Blasters', and were not only rare, but top of the line weapons. This suited Tharcourt's tastes perfectly. He found a fighting knife in an injection-molded sheath, and put it with the pistols. Meanwhile, Freya chose an elegant-looking blaster pistol. The weapon had a rounded chassis with a long protruding barrel. The blaster had obviously once been almost a mirror finish, but years and the elements had worn the chrome to a dull sheen. She found a leather holster that fit her new blaster almost perfectly. With the addition of a few spare power cells, the illicit purchase added up to three thousand-five hundred and twenty credits. Tharcourt paid, having requisitioned over twelve-thousand credits for this operation.
"Now remember…" The vendor warned. "You didn't get these here."
"No, I did not." Drakken agreed. "I'm pretty sure I just bought about six months in the brig if I had."
After returning to The Huntsman with their newly purchased items, the team boarded the shuttle, and lifted off, setting a course for Tatooine. After settling in, Drakken finally produced a large bundle of rolled up and crumpled metal foil. He opened it on an ammunition crate to reveal a pile of grilled meat and vegetables on wooden skewers. He held one up to his troopers in the passenger bay.
"Mynock kebabs anyone?"
This is already shaping up to be an interesting mission for sure. Drakken, Freya and Lago are going undercover...on Tatooine. As we all know, anything that happens on that hot ball of sand is worthy of its own movie or TV series, eh? What will happen once the team in on-world? Tune in next time to find out. I will update within the week! Please let me know how I'm doing with the story, and send me your comments, criticism and questions. Until next time my loyal readers, I bid you all a fond...Cheerio!