It didn't take long for the prisoners to be transferred once Delta-7 made it back to The Accuser. Tharcourt led the procession, in which Sergeants Daraay and Felian moved the three captives to the prison area of The Accuser. The rest of the team had retired to their quarters, and all that was left to do was to see to the prisoners, and for Tharcourt to get debriefed on the mission. On the prison level, the three stood by and watched two black-uniformed NCO's scan the hands, faces and retinas of the three captives, then lead them away, back into a long hall lined with cells.
"Out of curiosity," Commander Tharcourt asked the lieutenant in charge of the prison block, "Who is in command of the prison facilities on board this vessel?"
"That would be Captain Raliss, sir." The officer answered.
"Raliss…Raliss…" Tharcourt thought out-loud. "Why do I know that name…"
"Imperial Prisoner Interrogation and Disposal, sir." The lieutenant stated. "May have heard of her. She's…" He paused a moment. "Very good at her job, sir." The sergeant nearby glanced at the lieutenant with an almost frightened look.
"Hm." The commander mused. "Well, thank you, lieutenant."
"Yes, sir."
Tharcourt led his small entourage out of the detention area, and back up to their own deck. Once at the team's small base of operations, he instructed Daraay and Felian to take the rest of the day off and to get plenty of rest. The commander himself went into his office, and plopped down in his chair. He yawned, finally feeling the fatigue from the last couple of days setting in. He eyed the communication pad on his desk for a few moments before sighing and pressing the call button.
"Communications."
"Yes, this is Commander Drakken Tharcourt, Operating Number KL-7752 with a priority message for Colonel Wulff Yularen."
"One moment please." The male voice stated. Tharcourt drummed his fingers on the desk.
"Colonel Yularen's office." The ISB director's adjutant answered.
"Yes, this is Commander Drakken Tharcourt…"
"Yes, Colonel Yularen was expecting your call. I will patch you through immediately." The officer said, and the speaker on Tharcourt's desk beeped twice.
"Commander Tharcourt." Yularen's voice greeted. "I've been reading over Lieutenant Versio's after-action report. I should congratulate you on a successful mission, and brilliant tactics."
"Thank you, colonel." Drakken said rotely.
"Do you have any questions or statements to make about the operation?" The colonel inquired. Tharcourt thought about the orders to rig the rebel ship to blow when boarded.
"No…colonel." He stated. "We captured three rebel personnel, suffered no injuries, and trapped the ship. It was a clean mission."
"Ah…yes." Yularen's voice came back. "That last part was an idea of Grand Moff Tarkin. Rather clever, wouldn't you say?" Of course…boobytrapping the vessel would be Tarkin's brainchild.
"Yes, of course, sir." Tharcourt answered. "And I have no questions sir."
"Then I look forward to reading your report, commander." The colonel stated. The device beeped off, and Tharcourt pulled off his gloves and ran his fingers through his already messy black hair. What a week it had been. Almost getting killed in a botched mission because of bad intel, only to have a mission seizing an armed enemy ship go off without a hitch. It was a strange start for his unit, but with any luck, things would begin to normalize, and Delta-7 would fall into a comfortable routine before long.
"Alright, enough thinking…" He groaned, stretching. "Shower…food…bed."
Waking up the next morning, Tharcourt sat up and after a few moments to 'boot up the mainframe' as he sometimes said, he stood and stretched. Nothing on the agenda for today. Except paperwork, but that could wait. The commander quickly got dressed and entered the commons-room to find Dall, Coleth and Gallen sitting about, involved in various personal activities. He didn't bother questioning where the other members of his team were at the moment. Knowing them, it was either in the mess hall, the firing range or the gymnasium.
"Morning sir." The team medic greeted.
"Morning, men." Tharcourt returned. He smelled something needed, and smacked his lips. "Gallen, got caf?"
"Of course, commander." The sniper answered. He poured a metal mug full of the strong black liquid, and brought it to Tharcourt.
"Appreciated."
"We have orders today, sir?" Coleth inquired. Tharcourt held up his left hand dismissively as he took a drink of the invigorating beverage. Like engine degreaser…good.
"After the last few days…" He replied. "I think it's better that we take a day off. Tomorrow, I want every last one of you out on the firing line. For now, just take it easy." He took another drink of caf.
"Yes…sir." Gallen quipped with a grin.
"Who's on guard detail?"
"Lago, sir." Dall returned.
"Alright. I have to head out for a while. Hold the fort down until I get back." Tharcourt commented. He drained the last of the caf as Gallen shot him a friendly salute. Tharcourt tossed the sniper the empty cup, and the commander left the room and made his way down the corridor to the turbolift. He had something on his mind, and he wanted to take care of it before he even attempted to eat breakfast. He had been thinking about the prisoners from the ship he had captured. They had said that their shipment had been one of many…that thousands of rebels had already been equipped. Whereas some would have overlooked that statement, Commander Drakken Tharcourt took it to heart. If that crew had personally known about so many shipments and armed rebels, how large was the insurgent forces becoming? How well-armed? He thought about the cache of equipment and blasters in the rebel camp. This was something that warranted looking into.
Soon, Tharcourt arrived at an information terminal, and tapped in the name given to him the day before. The screen showed him the location of Captain Raliss' office, and instructions on the shortest route there. He took another turbolift up a couple more levels, and ventured down yet another corridor. He finally arrived at the door he was seeking. It was a private office, so he pressed the intercom button beside the hatch.
"Can I help you?" A male voice inquired.
"Yes. I am Commander Drakken Tharcourt, Imperial Special Forces. I wanted to speak with a Captain Raliss about several prisoners brought in yesterday."
"One moment, commander." He waited for about thirty seconds before the door slid open. Tharcourt stepped into the office. He paused for a moment.
Ensign Thorne was in the room, busily sorting through holodisks, an almost gloomy look on her face. She looked up, and her eyes lit up for a moment in recognition, but she only gave a slight nod, and the faintest quiver of a smile before going back to her task. Tharcourt turned to see a middle-aged female officer with bobbed blonde hair approaching. She stopped a few feet away, and looked the commander up and down a moment.
"You wished to speak with me about some...prisoners, Commander?" She asked in a detached tone.
"Well, actually captain, I wanted to pass along some information you may find valuable, especially if you plan on questioning the rebels." She seemed to relax a little bit, and a cold smile broke on her face.
"Indeed. Well, I appreciate any intel I can receive on prisoners. It makes my job all that easier." She began to walk back toward her desk, and Tharcourt followed. The captain retrieved a datapad and stylus from her desk. "So what do you have for me?"
"Well captain," He began. "My team captured the rebels yesterday. When we apprehended them, they were on their way to somewhere in the Northeastern part of the galaxy. Outer Rim. They had a load of weapons they were apparently taking to either a rebel cell, or most likely a rebel base." He waited for Raliss to write all of this down, then continued. "They stated that what we had captured was just one of a great many shipments that had been made, delivering weapons to thousands of fighters. It is my guess that they were referring to a large concentration of rebels somewhere in that part of the galaxy, though I can't be sure. I have um…information I cannot discuss from previous operations that indicate the rebels may be amassing weapons and manpower though." Raliss took all of this information down.
"So, you think I may be able to locate an entire rebel base by interrogating these prisoners…" The captain said softly, a devious tone in her voice. "That would be most beneficial to the Empire…and look quite well on my annual review, wouldn't you think?" Tharcourt was beginning to see why someone like Thorne would chafe under the command of an officer like this woman.
"It would, I think." He returned. "Now, I did try to question them a bit. I have to warn you, the prisoners will not likely divulge anything, it's worth a try though." Raliss smirked haughtily.
"Oh, leave that to me." She stated. "I am quite good at getting these rag-tag seditionists to talk." She looked past the commander's shoulder. "Ensign!"
"Yes, ma'am!" Thorne answered immediately.
"Aren't you done cataloguing that data yet? Useless! Finish up and then go down to the prison level. Inform Lieutenant Raichew that I will be coming down in two hours to question the three prisoners brought in yesterday. Understand, girl?"
"Yes, ma'am." The ensign stated.
"Really? You understand, girl? Then repeat it back to me!" The captain shook her head disappointedly at Tharcourt.
"Tell Lieutenant Raichew in the prison block that you will be down in two hours to question the three pris'ners brought in yesterday, ma'am." Thorne repeated.
"Well, you finally remember something." Raliss stated arrogantly. Tharcourt bit his tongue. The captain looked at him with a smile. "So hard to find good junior officers these days." She sighed. "They sent me that poor wretch there, and I can't get her to do anything right." He felt a tinge of anger.
"I'm…I'm sure she'll learn to be a good officer in time, captain." Tharcourt replied, trying his best to sound cordial.
"Perhaps. If I can break her from the rude and disrespectful behavior and teach her to act and speak like a civilized human being. She's from some barbaric planet in the Outer Rim, commander. I think they all live in caves still. Isn't that right, Ensign Thorne?"
"Um…yes ma'am." Thorne answered nervously.
"Alright then, captain." Tharcourt nodded. "I thought I'd pass the information along. I have um…other duties to see to."
"And it is appreciated, commander. Do have a good day." The captain returned, looking over the notes carefully as Tharcourt began to leave the office. He met eyes with Thorne again, and out of sight of the girl's commanding officer, gave the ensign a friendly smile and a nod. She returned a warm smile and a gentle shake of her head.
Commander Tharcourt left the office, and stood for a few moments outside the hatch. No wonder Ensign Thorne had been depressed. Whoever Captain Raliss had been talking about in the office, it sure wasn't the same intelligent and capable young woman he had met a week before. It seemed a shame, that someone like Thorne would have to end up under such an overbearing and egomaniacal officer. Poor girl. He made a mental note to come visit the young Ensign in the near future and check on her to see how she was doing. It was a small gesture, but perhaps a little bit of kindness might help her keep her sanity under such…working conditions. He sighed. Why was it his business though? Sometimes, it's better not to interfere with how other officers operate. Maybe a fruit bowl wouldn't be too out-of-sorts. Unless women take that as a sign of romantic interest. He grimaced a little. Better research that…
His first mission of the day completed, Tharcourt made his way to the officers' mess hall and grabbed a tray of the assorted mysteries and vagaries on the menu for the day. It was now just before lunch, and he found a seat away from the handful of other officers eating in the large room, and began picking away at the meal. He soon realized that he had lapsed into a most undignified pose; his left elbow on the table, head on his hand, absentmindedly eating the cobbler and rice before him like a chore. He realized that he had spent most of the previous week either in the before, during or after stages of combat, and now he was bored. He nebulously remembered a time years ago when a fellow lieutenant had told him;
"You can always tell a combat officer, Tharcourt. They're the only ones in the room that don't look like they have a stick shoved up their…" Okay, maybe he'd been right. Tharcourt certainly didn't feel like putting on all of the pomp and pageantry that usually came stuffed into an Imperial officer's uniform. Never did. Piett had wedged himself into the lifestyle of a ship's officer well. Despite his friendly disposition towards his old friend, Drakken could see the change in him. Firmus had become more political, more standoffish. Well, Firmus had always been a very self-disciplined and demanding officer, but Tharcourt had noticed that the dangerous disease of arrogance and scheming had begun to infect his old colleague. The dangers of becoming a desk officer.
He stabbed his small portion of cake listlessly, then decided that he was finished with the meal. Besides, more people were now beginning to enter the mess hall. Tharcourt returned his tray to the orderly, and trudged back to his office. He spent the rest of the day writing his after-action report on the capture of the rebel ship, then ate dinner after regular dinner time for the ship's crew. Returning from mess, he saw that Sergeant Daraay was now standing guard outside of the door to the Delta-7 area.
"How are you, Daraay?" He asked.
"I'm…well, sir." She answered, as if nobody had ever asked that before. He imagined that they hadn't.
"Enjoying your time with Delta-7?"
"Yes sir." She answered. He huffed. "I mean, it has been a unique assignment, commander." He smiled a little.
"Not what you're used to."
"No sir." She admitted.
"That's alright." He returned, giving the death trooper a couple of pats on her pauldron. "Me either, sergeant." She hit the open button for the door, and Tharcourt started to step into the room.
"Maybe it's the unusual missions that give us the best training, sir." Daraay stated. He paused. "Keeps us ready for the unexpected." He gave a small grin.
"And what better team to deal with the unusual, right sergeant?" He added.
"I have seen no other, sir." Daraay said. He nodded.
"As you were, sergeant."
Just as he had promised, the next day was spent in the training hall. Just after breakfast came two hours on the shooting range, where each trooper had to fire one hundred bolts at close range targets, one hundred at medium range, and one hundred rounds at the one-hundred-meter target. Afterwards, they ran through the close-quarters battle simulator in groups of five until every member had been on point, and every member had been on rear-guard. The commander did not exclude himself from any of the drills, or any of the positions. In fact, it was almost relaxing to be the tail man or in the middle of the stack while Felian, Walker or even Lago took point and called the shots.
When they had finished, the team had a late dinner in the enlisted mess hall, Tharcourt eating with his men. This got some strange stares from what few stormtroopers and navy troopers were still in the cafeteria. Over food, Tharcourt got to see his troopers enjoying themselves a little, gossiping and heckling one another over the day's training. He only rarely joined in their conversations and jokes, but the men seemed happy to have him there, and it made him feel that he might actually have some hope afterall in not catching the officer's disease.
Three days later, Commander Tharcourt was summoned to the main conference room. He suspected right away that it was for a new mission. An hour later, he returned to the Delta-7 staging area with a smug grin and a datapad. In the room, Ekks was in the middle of 'teaching' Lago and Mets how to play sabacc. This simply meant that the Corellian trooper was fleecing the two unwitting rookies out of a pile of credits. The rest of the team, minus Walker, who was on guard detail, were standing around the table, watching the match go on with a sort of morbid fascination. Even Daraay had her helmet off, and was watching curiously, trying to ascertain how Ekks was using oddly fluid rules to amass a small fortune from his comrades. They all looked up when Tharcourt cleared his throat.
"You know, gambling on duty is frowned upon." He stated, feigning impatience. Tharcourt thought that the men must have also been learning magic tricks, because the cards and the credits disappeared right before his eyes.
"Sorry sir!" Ekks exclaimed. "I didn't know we were on duty…at the moment."
"Nor did I till thirty minutes ago." The commander replied. "Ever been to Vaal, trooper?"
"Vaal?" He repeated. "Nope. Never heard of it." Tharcourt looked around the room. Everyone was shaking their heads.
"Well, that's where we're going."
"What's on Vaal?" Lago asked innocently.
"Um…Vall…ans? Vallites? Valencians? whatever they call themselves." The commander wisecracked. He looked at the datapad "And a gigantic sensor array built for tracking ships moving through that area….oh, and intercepting their transmissions."
"Imperial?" Daraay queried.
"No. In fact, it's fairly new, and oddly…nobody knows who put it there." Tharcourt explained. "Just so happens, some archaeologist gal working for the Empire stumbled across the thing, and reported it to Lord Vader. My guess is, and so is his, the rebels have built it to monitor Imperial movements in that part of the galaxy." Felian stole a glance over his commander's shoulder at the screen.
"Hm. Isn't that close to where we intercepted that rebel ship, sir?" He asked.
"Good eye." The commander commented. "Now…there's good news and bad news with this mission." He looked around the room. "Good news is, that this archeologist person said there was no real rebel presence there. Just a couple of men and a small ship. So we don't have to expect heavy resistance. Bad news is that we have to recon the installation and find out everything we can about who built it and why. Then, we have to find some way to blow up a six-hundred-meter-tall antenna and its power generator.
The flight to the planet took four hours. As before, they loaded into the shuttle and took off, carrying everything they thought they'd need for the mission, plus a good deal more. And as on the last two missions, Gallen plugged his ear buds in, and sat back, silently bobbing his head to some mysterious tune to prepare for the fight. By now, several members of the team were beginning to wonder what strange melody the sniper could be listening to. Walker believed it was probably Rage-Metal, while Mets swore that he had heard a few notes, and that it was Warbat electro-trance. When asked by a couple of his teammates what he was listening to, Gallen simply called it 'my war music'.
They landed on Vaal, five kilometers from the sensor array, the stealth mods on The Huntsman making them completely invisible to whatever technology the rebels had placed on the isolated planet. The team unloaded two speeder bikes they had brought along, which Mets and Coleth mounted, and began their preliminary scouting of the area. Within two hours, the scout troopers had returned with valuable information about the array and the men guarding it.
"It's a custom job alright." Coleth reported to Tharcourt. "Looks like an amalgamation of sensors, radars, frequency interceptors…and a gigantic, cobbled together power generator." He showed Tharcourt images of the installation he had taken during the scouting foray. "Another smaller dish array looks to be some sort of transmitter."
"They have a primitive but good-sized shanty built out of local stone, metal and plastoids." Mets added. "Looks like where the rebels stay, and where all the controls are located. There's a large prefab building made of some type of thin sheet metal that houses the generator and sensitive electronics. We spotted three rebels. All human. One looked like he was on guard detail. Carrying a DH-17, and looking pretty lax about security too."
"The other two?" The commander pressed.
"A male rebel moved from the smaller building to the larger one, likely to check on the equipment." Coleth returned. "At one point, a female carrying a DH-17 in a leg holster stepped outside of the smaller building for a few minutes, then went back inside. That was all the activity we could see, besides an old R5 series astromech droid and two GNK series droids moving around the complex."
"Did you see any ships?" Tharcourt asked.
"Just getting to that, sir." Mets answered. "There was an old YT-1000 freighter and an X-Wing near the facility."
"Hm." The commander meditated. "My guess is that there are five or six rebels at the array. One to fly the fighter, and four or five for the freighter. That would give them the manpower to watch the equipment day and night." He thought for a moment. "Alright, this is what we do…"
The perimeter guard never knew what hit him. He had rounded the corner behind the large building containing the power generator, when a black-armored form sprang from behind a stack of crates and silenced him with a knife. The death trooper dragged the rebel behind the crates, concealing him under a stained tarp. Daraay knelt down beside the silent form and spoke through her helmet's microphone.
"Sentry…down." She whispered.
"Taking generator." Felian's voice said through the team's network. Three scout troopers crept around the large metal structure, and entered through a small back door. Inside, they found the power generator humming away, along with several computer terminals and bundles of thick wire snaking out through the building. The three moved along the wall until they spotted a rebel working at a console. His back was to the troopers, and Mets crept forward, a steel wire strung between his hands. He threw the wire over the rebel's head and jerked. The insurgent grasped for his throat, emitting a loud gurgling for a few moments before going limp. He let the rebel drop to the floor, and the three soldiers scanned the building for any other enemy combatants. Finding none, Felian muttered into his mic. "Generator room…clear."
That was the call for Tharcourt to lead Walker, Dall, Lago and Ekks toward the smaller building. Gallen took up a position in between two large rocks, his long, scoped blaster aimed at the doorway of the building. As the team neared the living quarters, the woman stepped outside, spotted the team moving in, and attempted to draw her blaster. Before she could get out a warning cry or clear her weapon from its holster, her head snapped back as Gallen fired from his position fifty meters away. Moments later, the entry team moved into the house. A rebel looked up from a console where he was sitting.
"Burda…" He muttered, obviously thinking it was his compatriot. He saw the Imperials and tried to reach for a blaster rifle nearby, only to be shot by Lago and Walker. They cleared the room, and moved on to the next. Two rebels were sleeping on cots. All five members of Delta-7 made it into the room and stood over the unconscious forms.
"Freeze where you are!" Tharcourt called out. The rebels awoke with a start, and after a couple seconds, realized their predicament. They were quickly cuffed and led out by Walker.
With the rebel personnel eliminated, the team took an hour to carefully survey the installation, taking careful notes and holo-images of the system the insurgents had constructed. Then Tharcourt ordered Coleth and Mets to bring up their speeder bikes, each one now towing a hovercart packed with the most volatile explosives they could acquire for the mission. Coleth, Daraay and Ekks spent the next hour positioning the explosives at the base of the tall mast for the array, and at critical points around the generator and the electronics. Charges set, they piled on the hover carts with their two prisoners, and made their way back to the shuttle. Doing a final flyby, Tharcourt ordered Ekks to swing wide, and detonated the explosives remotely. They watched in satisfaction as the tower toppled over into the fireball that consumed the two buildings of the rebel complex.
"Target anything that looks the least bit repairable." Tharcourt ordered. "Proton torpedoes. Full load." The stormtrooper pilot nodded, and brought the shuttle in again, flying in an attack run. He fired a dozen torpedoes at the already ruined array, strafing the area with The Huntsman's blaster cannons as well for added effect. The ruins of the base were lit up again. "That'll do, trooper. Efficient shooting. Let's go home."
"Yes, sir." Ekks replied, taking off his helmet. He climbed through the planet's atmosphere, dialed in the hyperspace coordinates, and jumped.
Back aboard The Accuser, there was the usual debriefing, prisoner transfer and team after-action discussion. All-in-all, it had been another successful mission, and Commander Tharcourt was pleased that his team had quickly coalesced into a well-oiled machine. In just a handful of missions and a few weeks of intense training operations, Delta-7 was becoming almost too good at their job. He attributed it solely to the quality of soldier he had been allowed to handpick, and the leeway he had in planning and executing the missions. The Empire had many excellent regular soldiers, and an almost bottomless well of superior weaponry and equipment. There was no doubt in his mind that the Empire could win a standup fight with any enemy they faced…on a conventional battlefield. He had outlined the need for a force like his in the paper that had earned the ire of Moff Tarkin, and so far, he was proving his theory correct. Against these rebels, one didn't need a conventional force of peace-keeping troops.
Still, something was beginning to bother Tharcourt. He had hinted to Tarkin and Yularen several times that he believed that the rebels were planning something big. Tharcourt sat in his office, thinking about the situation. In ten years, the unconventional warfare expert had witnessed with his own eyes the rebels mutating; evolving from small cells of five or six terrorists caching food and a few blasters, to well-armed cells of a dozen or more, using larger ships and possessing better paramilitary training. It even appeared that the cells may be merging into some massive force, consolidating their numbers, and now setting up bases and listening posts on planets.
"Not to worry." Tarkin had stated in their last briefing. "The Empire will soon be possessive of the greatest weapon of all…fear. In a short while, no planet or system will dare stand against the might of this Empire and its military." Tharcourt had said nothing. It was a typical response from the governor. We will use an overwhelming show of force to scare the rebels straight. The idea was ridiculous. What was he planning to do? Kill an entire city of civilians when a rebel force struck from the area? Place an entire system under martial law? He wouldn't put it below Tarkin to try something stupid like attempting to destroy an entire planet to strike at one or two rebels. You can't hit what you can't see. He shook his head. No sense in worrying about things you couldn't fix. Delta-7 had the next day off.
The team seems to be off to a good start, and at least Tharcourt and Thorne got to see each other again, if only for a brief moment. What did you think? And what do you all think of the story thus far? As I've said before, send me a review or a PM with any comments or questions about this story. I love hearing from my readers. New chapter tomorrow (God willing and the Creek don't rise), so until then loyal readers, Cheerio! -Drake