Hello everyone. I'm finally back with another chapter. Been a few days, I know. It's been a busy time for me, so my ability to both write and to post new chapters has suffered. Such things happen when you own a couple of businesses. Well, one business per se. A private security contract firm. The circus sideshow is still kind of undergoing gutting and retooling as of now, but I have to oversee it getting prepped for shows this fall. I'm also in the process of trying to find a seller for a rare 1-in-1200 sports car, and nobody wants to buy anything with the economy like it is. So if any of you readers like fast, pretty things with LS engines, hit me up. (Nervous laughter at an obvious not-joke)
I'm also trying to get caught up on writing before I post many new chapters. I had this story about 3/4 finished when I started posting it, and hitting a wall with writing has led to me catching up to myself faster than I originally hoped. So I'm going to be posting maybe once a week unless I can get back to writing a chapter every two days like I was doing. That covered, enjoy this chapter, submitted for your approval.
Commander Tharcourt had trouble sleeping all night. Not only was he anxious about his meeting with Veruna the next morning, but he awoke three times in his small bed from unpleasant dreams. In one, Freya was being choked to death by Raliss, and he was watching from behind a transparasteel wall, unable to save her. He could scarcely remember the second, but knew that it had involved a battlefield and his unit all being killed. The third was truly unsettling. In the nightmare, he was running through the halls of a dark and ruined star destroyer. Behind him in the darkness was the constant breathing of Lord Vader. Always close. Always stalking him. The walls were streaked in blood, and he knew that everyone aboard was dead, and that his time would soon come.
He finally climbed out of bed around zero-eight-hundred and got dressed. He made a point to go grab a quick breakfast and a cup of caf at the mess hall before returning to his office with orders not to be disturbed until he had finished with an important meeting. Still apprehensive about what Veruna would say, he polished the top of his desk, sorted his data disks, and a dozen other small, menial tasks to keep him from thinking about things he had no control over. Finally, there was a buzz from the door's comms panel. He didn't even bother asking the identity of the caller. Instead, Tharcourt dropped into his chair, and pressed the button on his desk to open the hatch. Sure enough, in stepped Agent Veruna.
"Well, Tharcourt…" The ISB agent began, looking him over. "You're looking very…rough today."
"Got a lot on my mind." He stated, and motioned to the chair in front of the desk. "Please." She sat, and as before, turned on a frequency scrambler to counter any listening devices in the room. Tharcourt decided that if anyone were listening in on him, it was probably her anyway, but she wanted to make absolutely sure.
"I did some research." She began.
"What did you find out?" He asked
"There's nothing you can do." Veruna stated coldly.
"Some favor." Drakken grumbled.
"Look, I dug into her. I watched the damned recordings. That woman is going to be the cause of my night terrors." The ISB Agent sighed. "And I get why you want to help the girl. I saw some of it. Made her kill that prisoner. Hell, I'm not even that sick, Tharcourt. There's just a big problem standing in the way."
"Her connections." Drakken said mockingly.
"Her parents are in good with people like Mas Amedda, Greejatus, Pestage and Moff Jerjerrod. And their little girl can do no wrong. If you wanted to prosecute her, I doubt even ISB could make anything stick." She let that sink in a few moments. "You're not getting Thorne out from under her, either. She considers that girl her own private property. And besides, who the kriff is going to be brave enough to try and transfer her?"
"One of the times I wish Tarkin was still alive." Tharcourt growled. "So what the hell am I supposed to do? Let Raliss kill her? I'll strangle the witch myself before I let that happen."
"And you'll be arrested and shot." Veruna warned. "An inglorious end to your life and career. And that will make Thorne and myself very, very sad." Tharcourt was starting to feel sick. He hated the feeling of helplessness, especially in this case.
"I promised her." Drakken stated. "Promised! I will not sit on my ass and let this happen."
"Calm down, sweetie." Veruna said, holding her hands up pacifyingly. "I have the perfect idea."
"Ugh. Alright, what is it?" Drakken groused. "And please…don't call me sweetie."
"Fair enough, Drakey." She shrugged innocently. "You have a chance to make her and that pest of an adjutant of hers go away. And I mean however you want. I can get you alone with them in a dark secluded place." He leaned over his desk a little.
"How?"
"There is a base being constructed on a moon of the planet Endor." Zala began. "The Imperial garrison there apprehended a small rebel cell spying on the facility, and they are being held in a makeshift brig they have there. If you want, I can arrange it so that Raliss and her entourage…to include Thorne…are sent there to interrogate the prisoners. You will have to see to the rest. I'm sure you can think of something colorful." He leaned far back in his chair.
"This isn't some trick…" He began.
"Tharcourt, please!" She exclaimed. "You think you're the only officer to plot another's demise? Honestly, ISB could usually care less, as long as it's not somebody important like her. I'm throwing you this bone because I like you." She grinned evilly. "And I am really curious about what you're going to do with this information."
"Alright…I'll…I'll do it." Tharcourt muttered. "If you can arrange the prisoner thing…I'll do it. If it's the only way to stop all of this and…"
"Save that cute young ensign?" Veruna finished his sentence the way she saw it. Tharcourt gave her a death-glare.
"Yes, but…"
"I will have it worked out within 24 hours, Tharcourt." She said. Veruna was silent a moment, a satisfied smirk on her face as she sat back in the chair. She twirled a pink highlight around her right index finger and narrowed her eyes playfully, almost the way Freya often did. "And if this thing pans out for you, can I make a suggestion?"
"What would that be?" Drakken asked tiredly.
"You should buy her something for her birthday, or name day or whatever they call it on Breoh'Lar. It's eight days from today. I'd think she would adore a new pair of gloves."
"Gloves?" Tharcourt asked incredulously, still contemplating the fact that he was contemplating murder.
"Yeah, she's got this…thing for gloves. She…ahem…loves them very much." Veruna explained vaguely. "You should buy her a pair, and some candy. That girl loves candy too. You're welcome, by the way."
"For what?"
"For researching Thorne for you. I thought I would help you out." The agent shrugged.
"You do know that we're not together, right?" Drakken sighed. Veruna gave a sly little smile for a few moments.
"Well…" She said nonchalantly. "…you should still do something nice for her that day, even as really, really good friends. She deserves it after this, don't you think?"
"I…I guess she does." Drakken agreed. "Gloves…yes, I could do that." The ISB Agent smiled deviously and just as quickly, her face was neutral again. It was so fun to play little tricks on people, and she always felt it was easier when you knew things they didn't. It was like an inside practical joke.
Zala knew why she was helping Tharcourt. She had made her feelings known to him already, and she still felt the same way. She was smitten by the dashing officer, even if he rejected her advances. She had finally met a man who wasn't intimidated or downright terrified of her, a man who would look her in the eyes and speak to her like an equal. Yeah, she was ISB…and yes, she killed people…regularly, but that's not all she was. Nobody seemed to care though, about her tooka doll collection or her love of sweet wine and holovid comedies. Most of them just assumed she was just some deadly spy, a cold-hearted assassin. And it was miserable. That is until she met Drakken.
She had finally found a real man…not some sickeningly ambitious political officer or another kill-happy drone, but a guy with a heart…and a brain to match. And he wasn't interested. Of course he wasn't. It was a bit of a sore spot for her, no matter how much she joked about it. She felt condemned, like she would just have to keep practicing her secret voyeurism, living and loving vicariously through the people she watched on the feeds, curled up in her fluffy pink comforter in her apartment's similarly hued bedchamber. She acknowledged to herself that she was a bit of a perv, but what could a girl like her do? Apparently not bag a handsome prince.
And besides, Veruna reasoned with a small tinge of jealousy, he made the girl happy. He'd led as lonely a life as she had, and the poor bastard was too dense to see that Ensign Thorne was infatuated with him, and that she legitimately needed him in her life. If she couldn't have Drakken Tharcourt all to herself, Zala at least respected him enough to make sure he didn't crink up the relationship he was in. She would help him rid the galaxy of that disgusting Captain Raliss, and maybe drop a few hints and give him a surreptitious nudge toward getting closer to Thorne. At least she could watch them be happy. And as for the favor he now owed her, she already had a plan for that…
"I want to warn you about something, Drakken…" She said in a low voice. "I am going to have to get Lord Vader involved…"
"Guh!" Tharcourt made the most ungraceful choking sound. "Why in the name of the Emperor do you want to do that?" He shot.
"Calm down, sweetie." She cooed. "I'm just going to plant a little seed in his head th…no, scratch that. He's too karking scary to crink around with. I'm just going to recommend that Raliss and her team go to the moon of Endor to interrogate the captured rebels. She is one of the best, supposedly. Your team will go as security. Easy peasy."
"Well…that makes sense." Drakken rubbed his face. "I hate this…hate doing it…hate that I have to…"
"I know." Veruna said compassionately. "You're a soldier, not a killer." He scoffed and looked away. "At least not when you can help it, from what I can tell." She reached a hand over the desk and lay it on his, hoping he wouldn't pull away. "It's going to be fine, Tharcourt." She stated. "I'm giving you everything you need to pull this off. You just have to keep that head on and play your part."
"Yeah…" He muttered. His eyes slowly went to her hand sitting atop his. She drew it away.
"I'm going to start arranging things immediately." She stated seriously. "The sooner, the better. Thorne belongs somewhere better." Veruna stood and fixed her uniform. "I guess this is goodbye for now. You'll be on that moon in a couple days. Just…do this right." Drakken stood and walked around the desk. He held out a hand to the ISB Agent. She took it in a firm handshake.
"Thank you." He said solemnly. "Thank you for doing this." She smiled.
"It's a pleasure." She returned. "And don't worry. You can pay me back one of these days." She added with a wink. "Hope I see you again soon." She said, and opened the office door. She walked out, then turned back to the commander. "And I mean that." She concluded before shutting the door, leaving him alone in his office.
So that was it. The board was set for him, and all he had to do was lure two people out into the wilderness and murder them…break Imperial law, commit an act of treason. He felt the weight of it on him. He lit a cigarra and leaned on his desk. What was it Ekks had said? A man has to have his own moral code. Sometimes you have to break the law to do the right thing. Tharcourt had never been one to tow the line and be blindly obedient to the mores that the Empire tried to indoctrinate all of its officers with, but he considered himself mostly law-abiding, a moderate loyalist at the very least. But he had to admit to himself that he did have his own code, and it sometimes clashed with the will of his superiors, and occasionally with the ideals of the Imperial Military.
Is that why he took the death of the little girl from the rebel ship to heart? He still thought about her now and again. Poor thing. She would never get to live a full life and marry, have children or see the galaxy. She would never have a chance to be happy. She was dead, over nothing, and he felt that it was partially his fault. And worse, nobody cared. No one in the Empire cared that she had died so horribly for no good reason except himself and Thorne. Then there was that Twi-lek pilot girl. She had pushed every button he had, and he had hated her without even knowing why he did, yet he still found himself conflicted deep inside over the conversation they had. She was dead too, at the hands of the same person.
How many Raliss' were there out there? He felt uneasy with that question. He knew the truth; there were many…legions of them. Like her, like Tarkin…like Vader. People who didn't give half a damn about the peace, wealth and security the Empire could bring to the galaxy, but who used the system to justify slaughter and control, who reveled in death and power over others. They killed and destroyed anyone or anything that stood in the way of their own goals, sat upon their throne of skulls while protected by the uniforms they wore.
Tharcourt decided against pursuing this line of thinking any further. The Empire had internal problems, but they were not his problems, and he could not solve them even if they were. His job, his duty right now was to save Freya, and to a lesser extent to rid the ship of Captain Raliss. In order to carry out this duty, he had work to do. Drakken opened the door to find Felian and Gallen in the lounge room, seemingly in the middle of a conversation that he had interrupted. They stood close together, and both looked at him in silence as he entered the room.
"Don't let me interfere with your forum, gentlemen." He remarked dryly, walking past.
"Yes sir." Felian muttered, catching the stern look on his commander's face. Tharcourt left the room, and the scout sergeant turned to the sniper. "All I can tell you is that he's…dealing with a lot of pressure right now."
"No kidding." Gallen returned. "Never seen the old man so eat up with something. It's Thorne, isn't it?"
"I'm not saying." Felian stated. "He hasn't had a meeting with you yet, Gallen…but he will, I'd bet on it."
"Yeah, like the one he had with Ekks…" Gallen muttered. "Talking about breaking rules and moral codes and stuff." His green eyes shifted about. "And meeting with that wierd ISB major…hell, scuttlebutt is that he's even having secret meetings with Captain Piett. He's up to something. I can smell it."
"Well…I can tell you this," Felian began, "Just make sure you're smelling grilled meat before you end up with sunbaked nerf patties." He looked around to make sure nobody else was in the room. "Don't start thinking the commander is cracking, because he isn't. He's got something big he's got to do, and he don't necessarily like it. He don't want to ask any of us outright, because he knows that he's got to eat a big bantha manure sandwich right now, and getting us involved means we all gotta take a bite, get it?" Gallen sighed and nodded.
"Still, he could ask." The marksman commented. "Farkle, sergeant…I'd help him out with whatever's going on, you know that." Felian nodded. "About the best damned officer I ever seen. He doesn't micromanage."
"I know." Felian said. "I trust him too. And yeah, I know more about what's going on that the rest of you…except for maybe Daraay, but officers and their bodyguards are like this." He crossed two of his gloved fingers. "Trust me, Gallen. I know something big's coming. I can feel it. Just keep your head down and your mouth shut. He's never messed us over yet, and now he's counting on us. You tracking?" Gallen gave a satisfied smirk.
"Perfectly." He said. "Long as I'm not left out of the dance."
Commander Tharcourt made his way to the bridge, and entered to find Piett absent. In his place, sitting in the command chair was Commander Tyron Nox of the captain's bridge staff. Tharcourt only knew him in passing and by what little Piett had spoken about him. He was a youngish officer, about thirty, with inquisitive blue eyes that seemed to take in everything around him. After perfunctory greetings and a little idle chit-chat about asteroid fields and how big the new Super Star Destroyer they were rendezvousing with was, Drakken discovered that Captain Piett was in his office, seeing to all of the form-filling and annoying details of dealing with the new fleet structure.
"Glad it's not me." Nox commented. "I don't think I want command. I did that once on a frigate. I'm perfectly happy where I am." He shrugged. 'A man's got to know his limitations', Tharcourt thought to himself, and left to find the captain.
"Oh, hello Drakken." Firmus greeted tiredly as the commander stepped into his office.
"Drudgery of command?" Tharcourt asked. Piett shot him an exasperated look.
"New fleet…new structure…new mission…" The captain ticked off. "And to cap it all off, I am being transferred."
"Transferred?!" Tharcourt exclaimed.
"Once the fleet, this Death Squadron is assembled, I am to be stationed on board the new ISSD as part of the command crew."
"Bridge officer on a new flagship." Drakken commented. "Guess that means you'll be beating me to Admiral soon."
"I wouldn't hedge my bets on it." Piett complained. "Going from command to essentially third officer like this is either a downgrade or some ridiculous pooling of resources…putting all the good officers on one ship to try and make things run better. Either way…" He gave Drakken a disappointed look. "I'm told to bring my staff and critical personnel with me. That means you, Drakken." Tharcourt started.
"What?" He returned. "I mean…I couldn't possibly leave yet…I still have something I have to do."
"Your project?" Firmus guessed. "Well, either you find a way to get it done and over with in the next week and a half, or you're…" He trailed off as he noted his comrade's irritated glower.
"Alright." Tharcourt began. He sat in a metal chair in front of Piett's desk. "I've tried my best to be vague about the whole rotten thing, but here's the score, Firmus…" The captain put his holopad down and rested his arms on the desk. It was rare for Drakken to be this upset, at least to the point of being flustered. In two decades, he'd only seen the man this bent out of shape a couple of times. Maybe this problem of his was far more involved than he had thought. He nodded to Drakken to continue.
"There's this girl…Ensign Freya Thorne…" Commander Tharcourt explained. "She was sent to Captain Raliss fresh out of academy. I have known her for a little while now, we both arrived onboard about the same time. She has the makings of a great officer, and she…" He paused, and noticed that Firmus was listening intently. "…she is a genuinely good person. Honest, if you can believe it, Firmus…and a good friend." Piett shook his head in understanding. "It's not right by a damned sight the way Raliss is treating her. Keeping her from eating, working her like a slave. Has her on her hands and knees scrubbing her damned floors. Even hits her, I believe."
"Mm. She has a reputation for things like that." Piett said in a regretful tone.
"Yes, well I've taken it on myself to gather intel on her." Tharcourt admitted. "You wouldn't believe the things that woman has done on your ship. Even Tarkin would have paled at some of her exploits, old man."
"Hm." Piett simply hummed. He had heard the stories of course, and he rather detested the fact that someone with Raliss' reputation was plying her trade aboard his vessel. He had managed to keep out of it up until now though, for the sake of his job. He didn't blame Drakken for going after the notorious captain, especially knowing now that she had turned her sadistic attention on a friend of his.
"So, it's really that bad on this Thorne, huh?" Piett asked.
"Well, Raliss tried to cut her hair off with a knife, for kriff's sake. Raliss karking had her beat then kiss a young girl captured off of an enemy ship…right before she made Thorne blow the poor thing's head off." Tharcourt stated heatedly. Piett curled his lips into an angry sneer, baring his teeth a moment. "Would you like to know some of the threats she's made to Ensign Thorne?"
"No…no, I think I've heard enough." Captain Piett muttered. He let out something akin to half a sigh and half of a groan. "I'm not going to tell you not to do anything about it anymore. If you had told me that she was your friend…" He scoffed and rested his chin unceremoniously on a gloved hand. "Remember when you were an ensign, and we were off duty, drinking on Balmorra…that dingy old cantina?"
"Yeah…" Drakken said, recalling that night eighteen years earlier. "When that great, thundering drunk, bearded nerf-herder stumbled over and started making all those comments about Imperial officers…" Firmus nodded.
"Called you a…what was it again? Oh yes, a toe-eyed, morphodite cabbage?" Piett asked with a wry grin. Drakken chuckled a little.
"Yeah…said you were too short and puny to be an officer…something about cramming you inside an astromech."
"Then you broke his nose, Drakken." Piett reminded him. "And violently extricated him out the door and onto the street. Remember what you said?"
"I…I may have been a little inebriated at the time." Drakken shrugged.
"Hm. You said you'd be damned if you'd let anyone lay a grubby finger on your superior officer and a friend." He gave a sentimental smile. "So yes, I know how protective you are of your chums, Drakken. I believe that if someone tortured a friend of yours, you would kill them without question." Tharcourt said nothing. He looked down at the desk and tapped his fingers against it a few times.
"Yeah." He whispered.
"Yes…well, not to mention it's on my bloody ship." Firmus added. "So what Captain Raliss is doing is partially my responsibility whether or not I can do anything about it." He took a deep breath and exhaled. "A week and a half, Drakken. Do you at least have a semblance of a plan?"
"I do." Tharcourt replied. "Your office have ears, my friend?" Piett gave a sly smirk.
"Occasionally." He answered. "ISB keeps putting the damned things in here, and my personal cleaning droid has a bad habit of mistaking them for bread crumbs. Must be bad programming."
"That's alright." Drakken nodded. "My personal overseer at ISB is fully supportive of my scheme anyhow. Even helped out with it."
"Good…night. You're working with ISB in this thing?" Piett asked in an anxious tone.
"Just the one agent." Tharcourt said. "I um…may have gone in debt with her over it."
"And you'll probably live to regret it." Piett sighed. "So, what's the plan?"
"In the next day or so, you are going to be receiving orders, probably from Lord Vader himself." Tharcourt explained. "We'll be going to some planet called Endor. All you need to know is that Raliss and her entourage will be sent there to interrogate some rebel prisoners. I and my team are to be going as security. Once we're on world, I'll…" He cleared his throat, unsure of how to state the obvious.
"You will do what you need to." Firmus said grimly. Tharcourt nodded.
"I'll spare you all the detail. I think I know how to get away with it clean." He added in a somber voice. "I'll have to see when we get there, but…I believe it'll work." Piett rubbed his hands together, a stern look on his face.
"She know about this plan? Your young friend?" He asked.
"Freya? No. I haven't told her. I don't want to burden her with it, honestly. She just knows that I'm going to get her out." Drakken gave a nod to Firmus. "Only people that know are me, you, my ISB Agent, and my two senior NCO's will be brought in fully this night." Piett scoffed and shook his head.
"You have ISB, Lord Vader, the captain of an ISD, and a special forces team involved in the rescue of one girl." The captain commented. "May it be a warning example to any of your future enemies." He added dryly. Piett was silent for a moment. "Do you love her, Drakken?"
"What?" Tharcourt shot back. "Stars no. She's a friend."
"Hmph. She ought to love you. I don't think any man was this loyal to a significant other that ever breathed."
"Sacrifice is the price of loyalty." Drakken said softly. Piett raised an eyebrow. "It's um…it's something my little resistance movement said during the war with the seps."
"In many ways, you're still that boy." Firmus stated. Tharcourt gave a small, sad smile.
"Maybe." He breathed. "I just got old."
"Not too old to fight for a good cause." The captain offered. "Do it. And try to not get caught." His eyes fell to his desktop. "The Empire would lose too good an officer. I and your Ensign Thorne would lose a good friend."
"I'll see it done…and I will come back." Drakken said resolutely.
He sat behind his desk, contemplating how to say what he intended to say. Sergeants Daraay and Felian stood before his desk, silently wondering what he had called them into his office for, why their commander looked like he was fighting himself over how to deliver some terrible news. Finally, he lit a cigarra and leaned over the desk, looking up at the two soldiers. Both straightened their posture slightly. He blew out a cloud of white smoke and pointed to them.
"You two…" He began. "Know how I've had you shadowing Captain Raliss the last little bit?"
"Yes sir." The two sergeants answered.
"Well…I don't think I need to go into great detail over what all of this is about." Tharcourt said.
"You want to put an end to the mess Ensign Thorne is in." Felian stated. "I've heard…sir, the way the captain treats her. And I remember our…mental exercise." He added. "I think you're doing the right thing here. It's a good cause…sir." Drakken nodded and looked to Daraay.
"You know my answer, sir." The death trooper said.
"Alright…well, we may have a plan of action." The commander continued, certain that if his office were bugged, it would be Veruna alone who was listening in. "I have some contacts who have agreed to help arrange for us to travel to a nearly uninhabited planet with Captain Raliss in a couple of days. What we're going to do there exactly, I haven't quite figured out yet…but odds are…" He paused, still not liking the idea. "…that Raliss and her adjutant will not be returning to duty on The Accuser. Does that notion bother either of you?"
"No sir." Daraay answered immediately. Felian sighed.
"Maybe sir…just a little, but like I said, I get it. I'll be okay with whatever you think needs to be done."
"Very well." Tharcourt said coldly. "I would like to keep this from the rest of the men as long as possible. They don't know everything we know about the situation. I want them to be sure of why, you know?" Felian nodded. "And so, I have to ask you two to do a little bit more. You can say no if you want, and I know it's asking a lot…"
"You may as well write us down for doing it, sir." Felian shrugged, interrupting his tarrying. Tharcourt huffed.
"Damnit, I'll be forthright…I need you two to skulk up there and put hidden cameras in Raliss' office." He gestured toward the ceiling. "Once we get to our destination, I need audio and video recordings of everything that woman is doing there as well."
"I can do that, sir." Daraay returned. She looked at the scout. "I am much better with electronic warfare operations in this setting, Felian. It would be easier for me to carry this out without the risk of being caught." She gave a small smile. "Of course, if you wanted to use your knowledge of probe droids to perhaps modify a MSE unit as an observation device…that would be very helpful."
"Good idea, Daraay." Felian agreed. "I'll get right on it. Shouldn't be too hard to do."
"Then we have a decent plan worked out." Commander Tharcourt stated. "Get to the spy business as soon as practicable. I need all of the footage you can get in the next couple of days." The two nodded and started to leave the office. "And sergeants?" They stopped and turned back to their commander. "I owe both of you an enormous debt of gratitude for what you are doing. For me…for Thorne. It's…above and beyond the call of duty." Before they could speak, Tharcourt stood and snapped them a crisp salute. "You honor me with your selflessness, troopers." They came to attention and saluted their commander in return.
"Honor and duty, sir." Daraay said firmly.
"Loyalty and service." Felian added confidently. Tharcourt dropped the salute, and the troopers did the same. He gave a gracious nod of the head, and his two most trusted subordinates exited the room. He sat back down in his chair, closed his eyes and let out a breath as if a heavy burden had just been exhaled from him.
"Hang in there, Freya." He whispered. "Backup is on the way."
So Drakken finally has a plan. And it only involves murder, subterfuge, treason, talking his men into doing the same...oh, and getting one over on Lord Vader. Simple, huh? Would any of you go that far to save someone you cared about? Let me know in the review section! New chapter up in a few days. Till next time loyal readers, cheerio!