Great God, it's been forever since I posted a chapter! Most of you don't know me from Adam, and ergo don't follow my public life; I own two businesses, and the second one, a travelling circus sideshow I bought on a lark, is about to kick off a short touring season in a couple of weeks, with my daughter and I at the helm. So, I've been working to get a truck fixed up for the circuit, and making sure everything is ready. Any of you know what a Feejee Mermaid is? I sure do at this point! If any of you want to follow the antics of a travelling show like this, it's going to have a Youtube Vlog soon. I'll let you all know when it premiers.
But anyway, I'm back with another chapter, for your reading pleasure. So without further lollygagging, Let's get into it!
The next two days were spent in a sort of preparatory haze. Tharcourt of course, knew the mission was coming a full day before he received orders, as did Daraay and Felian. The rest of the team were only notified once Piett had informed Drakken that Lord Vader and the ISB had ordered his unit to accompany an interrogation squad being sent to a moon of Endor the next evening. All the while, Drakken knew he had to keep the plan secret from Freya, not for fear she would blow the whistle on the plot somehow, but even though it was all for her benefit, he didn't want his friend involved in the level of skullduggery and violence that it already involved, and would likely encompass in the days to come.
When Freya stopped by after work, Drakken had to fight the urge to tell her that soon her ordeal would be over, that Raliss would likely be removed from the galaxy in a few short days. It felt almost wrong, keeping it from his friend, but he knew that he had to, at least for now. Felian and Daraay were gathering their recordings of the tyrannical captain's activities, and the plan was slowly coming to fruition. All he could do was assure her that everything would be alright, that he was working on her problem and he wouldn't stop until he had made good on his promise to her.
The time finally came for the team to leave for the moon none of them had ever heard of, and all the intel they could find on their destination was that it orbited some gas giant in some obscure corner of the galaxy, and that the Empire had recently started constructing a base there for some reason. Their mission seemed simple, at least for the majority of the team; go in as security, let the interrogation team work the rebel prisoners there for a couple of days, and return to the ship.
"It kind feels like a waste." Gallen commented as they boarded the team's shuttle with their gear. "Not that I'm complaining about an easy mission here, but all of us…" He motioned with a hand to the eight other Imperials finding seats on the craft. "…to babysit a couple of prisoners?"
"Sometimes best not to question things, Gallen." Tharcourt advised, sitting across from the sniper. "Things sometimes have an odd way of working out for the better. Sometimes…" Gallen raised an eyebrow, but decided that the commander was being far too deep and philosophical for his tastes. He pressed in his earpieces, and interfaced them with his small datapad, putting on his infamous and still mysterious 'war music'. The small ship lifted off with Ekks at the helm, and The Huntsman cleared the destroyer's port and headed toward the small planetoid nearby.
"You bring the materiel I asked?" The commander inquired of Felian, who sat to his left, in a low voice.
"Yes sir." The scout answered, referring to the three miniature surveillance cameras and palm-sized, spider-like scouting droid he had brought aboard for the mission. Tharcourt nodded and sat back, reclining against the wall of the ship. He closed his eyes, thinking again about what lay ahead. He opened them when he heard one of his troopers speak loudly.
"Hey Gallen…" Mets called from beside the marksman, who bobbed his head intently with the beat of his secret martial songs. "You have to spill. What are you listening to?" Gallen didn't answer, the scout trooper's voice drowned out by his loud music. Lago, who sat on Gallen's right, leaned forward and watched as Mets slowly and insidiously moved his hand closer and closer to the sniper's left ear, his index finger and thumb forming a pincer. Tharcourt saw the antics as well, but said nothing, choosing to ignore the scene by closing his eyes again. Mets carefully grabbed Gallen's earpiece and with a slight jerk, pulled it from the trooper's ear. Gallen's eyes shot open as the group was met by something unexpected pouring forth from the tinny little speaker:
Left to right
Up and down, love
I push up love, love everyday
Jump in the mud, oh
Get your hands dirty with
Love it up on everyday
All you need is
All you want is
All you need is love, ahhh ahh…
"What…in the crink…." Coleth muttered, aghast. Gallen stopped the music.
"What?" The unit marksman asked as if nothing were wrong at all.
"Is that…" Lago pointed. "Were you listening to…"
"Got a problem with my epic music?" Gallen asked, looking around at the rest of the team
"No…just…" Mets answered. "I thought you were listening to deathcore or something."
"I had my credits on Warbat Trance." Lago shrugged. Gallen let out a frustrated grunt.
"Well, you bunch of nosy ingrates…" He began. "I happen to have both deathcore and trance, if you must know." He shook his datapad. "I have Figrin D'an and the Modal Nodes too, if you must know!"
"I saw them in Mos Espa!" Lago commented. "Mad about me?" Gallen waved a hand dismissively.
"Overrated. Solitary World." He stated.
"Never knew you were a music lover, Gallen." Tharcourt said with a little interest. "Good on you, son."
"I may not be that one sided." The sniper shrugged. "You guys like quenk jazz?"
"I'd rather be shot…" Coleth returned.
"Hey…quenk is alright." Mets argued with his battle buddy. "What do you like then?"
"Rage metal." The other scout trooper answered. "What I assumed a guy like you would listen to, Gallen."
"Sometimes." Gallen said. "Mostly I like to pop in some soft stuff and help me relax. You guys have to go full rancor in battle. I have to chillax and take my time."
"He does have a point." Drakken muttered, leaning back with his eyes closed. "To everything there is a season, they say."
"Well what do you like, sir?" Lago asked the commander. Tharcourt was silent a moment.
"Ohh…I don't know, Lago…" He spoke. "Sometimes softcore, light rock…even Glimmik. Operatic arias…on a good day, they can hit what little heart a man has left."
"Operas, sir?" Mets questioned.
"I get it." Gallen said. "When you're happy, you love the beat. When you're sad, you understand the lyrics…right, commander."
"Mmhmm." Tharcourt answered.
"Five minutes out." Ekks called back. The group grew silent for a moment, some of them double-checking their gear. Gallen jacked his datapad into an audio input port in the bulkhead.
"Why not…" He muttered, and hit something on his screen. A moment later, a song began playing loudly over the ship's PA speakers;
Some nights I stay up cashing in my bad luck
Some nights I call it a draw
Some nights I wish that my lips could build a castle
Some nights I wish they'd just fall off
But I still wake up, I still see your ghost
Oh, Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for oh
What do I stand for…what do I stand for…
"Now this works." Mets commented. The music seemed to get everyone in a slightly better mood. Even Felian found himself tapping his boot along with the beat of the song. He glanced over to see the commander watching him with one eye open, a blank look on his face. The NCO scoffed and stopped his rhythmic foot tapping. Tharcourt grinned a little.
"It's a damned good song, sergeant." He said. Felian perked his eyebrows up and nodded.
"Yes sir, it is that." The commander leaned in close.
"Soon as we arrive, set up your equipment in the target areas." He whispered. "I want everything in place before that witch even unpacks her luggage."
"Understood." Felian nodded.
This is it, boys, this is war - what are we waiting for?
Why don't we break the rules already?
I was never one to believe the hype
Save that for the black and white
I try twice as hard and I'm half as liked
But here they come again to jack my style…
They landed as the last strains of the song faded out over the speakers. Delta-7 stepped off of the shuttle, Commander Tharcourt in the lead. Nearby, another ship, a smaller transport craft was landing near a trio of small cargo ships. The commander walked toward the transport as it sat down on the dirt landing field, Daraay close behind him as always. The rest of his team disappeared inside the prefabricated modular base that had been set up as a bunkhouse, mess-hall and brig. Now, he just had to delay the captain for a few minutes until Felian could set up the cameras in what was to be her office.
As he neared, a ramp opened up from the belly of the ship as the engines shut off. As expected, Captain Raliss began descending the ramp, Freya in tow carrying a large bag and a stack of data disks. Shortly after, Lieutenant Drier started down the ramp, pulling off a set of flight gloves. The three officers stopped in front of Tharcourt, and he gave a perfunctory salute, which was returned by all three.
"Commander Tharcourt." Raliss greeted with all of the warmth of a dead star. "Glad I am not the only victim sent to this place. You are to head up my security detail, I understand?"
"Yes, captain." Tharcourt answered, pretending to be professional and courteous. "My team is here to make sure everything goes smoothly. If you need anything, let us know."
"Well, I would like to get to my office and lodgings as soon as possible." Raliss stated.
"My men are inspecting the rooms now." Tharcourt returned. "Can't be too careful." Raliss made a 'tsk' sound.
"Unnecessary precautions." She complained. "And what is the name of this fetid place again? Overgrown Garden Three?"
"Well, it's technically called "The Sanctuary Moon." Tharcourt explained, buying as much time as possible. "At least on the maps. Most people just call it Endor, though that's the name of the planet this moon orbits. I believe I heard one officer call it 'The Forest Moon of Endor'. A nice ring to it, don't you think, captain?"
"Huh." She jeered. "They should tear down these trees and build a proper city, if you ask me. Too much damned dirt for a civilized person to find agreeable. Only barbarians would live here." She looked sidelong at the Ensign to her right, who had been casting shy but warm glances at the commander. "You would live on a wild, filthy rock like this, wouldn't you, Thorne?"
"Aye, ma'am." Freya sighed.
"I thought I told you it's 'Yes Ma'am'." Raliss growled. "Stupid girl." She looked back to Tharcourt. "These outer-rim officers…" She began, shaking her head. "You can't teach them. Well…at least you made yourself into a semblance of a good combat officer, despite your unfortunate start in life, Commander Tharcourt." She added. He blinked, accepting that the captain had just simultaneously insulted and complimented him.
"I suppose, captain."
"Thorne, I want you to look at this man. He wasn't fortunate enough to be born in the Inner Rim, but somehow, he made it this far in the Imperial Navy. Like you, he wasn't as cultured as most, and I can only imagine the work it has taken him to fit in and feel like he deserves his uniform. You see what you could become if you tried, girl?" Thorne met eyes with Drakken and she gave a small smile.
"Yes ma'am." She answered truthfully. "That is exactly what I want to be like, ma'am." Suddenly, his hatred for Captain Raliss, and his anger from her pretentious tirade melted away. The idea that Freya wanted to be like him had never crossed his mind. In the short time they had been friends, he knew that she had grown to respect him, but he had no idea that the young woman admired him that much. He remembered her emulating his angry posture in walking down the corridors of the star destroyer, and how she wanted to be on is team, and it all clicked. Up until now, he was desirous that at least most of the plan would succeed. That was all you could hope for in any operation, that the balance would be tipped mostly in your favor. Now he was hoping beyond hope that everything would fall into place.
"I'm sure your ensign will do well in time." Tharcourt said with an earnest smile. "She seems to have the heart for it. I think things will work out just fine for her." Freya smiled warmly again at the coded message.
"Heart maybe…" Raliss muttered. "Head? Nothing there but a mass of unwashed hair." Raliss huffed a sigh. "Can we go in now, this heat is intolerable."
"Certainly, Captain." Drakken said graciously. "We'll set up in the command center, and try to stay out of your way. Any of the prisoners give you any problems, we'll take care of it pragmatically."
"Pragmatically." Raliss repeated as they began to walk toward the compound. "I do like that turn of phrase."
Upon entering the first room of the compound, Commander Tharcourt took in his surroundings. The five by ten-meter room was obviously a control room, with a large multipurpose communications/close circuit monitor on one wall. The screen hung over an array of computer terminals and monitoring equipment. He looked to the other side of the room, where a couple of padded benches sat, flanking a metal weapons locker. By the far bench was a metal hatch, leading further into the building. Also by this bench was Sergeant Felian, who gave the commander a nod.
"It appears that my men have completed their sweep of the premises, captain." Tharcourt stated. "Sergeant?"
"Yes sir." Felian answered dutifully. "All rooms clear, to include private quarters." The coded message was not lost on the commander. Raliss' quarters and office were bugged.
"Thank you, sergeant." Tharcourt returned. "Where are the men of the garrison and the C.O.?"
"Well sir…" Felian answered. "I informed them that the interrogation team and Imperial Special Forces had arrived to conduct our operation. Commander Stygian took a look at Daraay as you two were approaching, and ordered all of his unit to vacate to the compound three-hundred yards to the south. He stated that he will be here this evening at 1800 for briefing."
"Very well." Tharcourt said. He looked to Captain Raliss, who was standing with her arms across her chest, impatiently tapping her foot. "You may find your office and quarters, captain."
"About time." Raliss grumbled. She looked around at the inside of the installation. "Horrid place. Dreary. A utility closet really. I wonder if they even have passable foodstuffs here? I could use a tea right now." She tromped off, exiting through the door at the back of the room, with Drier close behind. Freya paused and gave Drakken a friendly smile. He smiled and nodded in reply, and she followed her superiors down the short hallway beyond the doorway as the hatch swooshed closed. Tharcourt sighed. Even if she weren't a terror to everyone important in his life, Drakken was sure that he would still dislike her intensely, if just for being a pretentious desk officer. He remembered a martial poem he read once;
You may talk o' gin and beer
When you're stationed safe out here
And you've been to penny-fights and alder-shot it
But when it comes to slaughter
You'll do your work on water
And you'll lick the bloomin' boots of him that's got it.
She was no soldier, no warrior. She was a vile and inhuman monster who lived an easy life. Tharcourt was disgusted at the way she could act so pretentious and cultured while committing such cruel and barbarous acts. He gave Felian another glance, showing his anger and disdain for the captain. The scout sergeant shook his head in agreement, a scowl on his face. He obviously shared his commander's sentiments. There was no doubt in either of their minds that the dark deed they had planned would be executed.
"Some digs they have here." Gallen announced, coming into the room with Ekks and Coleth close behind. The commander raised an eyebrow at him. "Think the bunk rooms on The Accuser are tight…whoo."
"I'm sure they didn't have your comfort in mind when they designed them." Tharcourt returned dryly. "Anyway, it's only for a couple of days."
"Yes sir." Gallen said unenthusiastically. The sniper turned and started to leave the room.
"Oh…Gallen, wait." The commander spoke. "I wanted to speak to you in private. About…marksmanship."
"Oh…alright, sir." Gallen answered with a curious air. Tharcourt motioned with his head, and led Gallen outside. He lit a cigarra, and offered one to the unit marksman, who declined. The commander sighed and began to slowly walk around the building, one arm tucked behind his back, the sniper at his side, wondering what this informal meeting was about, though he had his suspicions.
"You're a good soldier, Gallen." Tharcourt finally stated. "I take it you love your job, eh?"
"Yes sir…" The corporal answered. "I mean, a good bit more so since I was put on this team." Tharcourt smiled a little.
"You always speak your mind, son." He said. "Nothing wrong with that sometimes. If a man knows he's in the right, he should take a stand, and be willing to fight for it. As long as he knows for damned sure it's the right thing." He stopped, and gauged his team's sniper a moment. "Take for instance this team." He went on. "I'm sure you would do just about anything for your squadmates, right?"
"Well yeah…" Galled shrugged. "Brothers in arms, sir. We break bread together, and we break heads together." Tharcourt chuckled a little at the euphemism.
"Because…it's something or someone worth fighting for." Drakken stated, pointing a finger for emphasis.
"Yeah, I suppose, sir." Gallen agreed. "This ain't about marksmanship, is it, commander?"
"Eh." Tharcourt waved the notion away. "I just wanted to have a mental exercise with you, Gallen. You know, work on the old brain juices."
"Ah. Yes sir." Gallen said back. In truth, he knew about the strange talks the old man had been having with the men of the unit, and had expected his turn. He at least tried to follow the commander's line of thinking as he continued.
"So, if say…one of your squadmates was in mortal danger…you would do anything to try to save them."
"Up to and including anything, sir." Gallen answered. "My team mates…you, sir. I think I'd have to."
"What if that anything involved…hmm…let's say breaking Imperial law or doing something against military code?"
"Well…that's a jam to be in, isn't it?" Gallen offered. "I still think I'd have to do what I needed to, I mean you said it yourself, commander…if you know you're in the right, you better fight for it, right?"
"I did say that." Tharcourt returned.
"And I think you're accurate there." Gallen shrugged again. "You know me, if given the options of being right or following orders, I'll just get in trouble."
"You're a bit like Ekks, you know that?" Tharcourt said, satisfied with the conversation. Gallen gave a small grin.
"One of us is a bad influence on the other, sir."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, still trying to figure out which one." The marksman joked. "That all, sir?"
"Yes, I suppose." Tharcourt answered. "You can go now. Glad we had this talk."
"Um…yes sir." Gallen returned, still a little confused about why the commander had wanted to have a chat about breaking laws and loyalty. He turned and walked back toward the entrance of the building, leaving Drakken with his thoughts.
"Mm…" The commander mused to himself. "Still trying to figure on if you rogues are influencing me…or me you…"
The evening came and went uneventfully. He had immediately sent word to both Piett and Lord Vader that the team was on-world and beginning their duties. During his meeting with Commander Stygian, Tharcourt worked out a deal that Stygian would leave a token force of three naval troopers to help guard the facility, and he himself would check in at 1800 every evening to see how things were proceeding. Other than that, Tharcourt and Raliss' teams had the run of the compound for the next two days. Captain Raliss in fact didn't bother to show up for the briefing, as she was already happily engaged with interrogating the rebel prisoners.
Around 2200, after everyone else was turned in, Daraay and Felian met with Drakken in his small office in the base. They began by discussed the footage they had acquired so far, and the commander watched with disgust for a few minutes before handing the datapad back to Felian. The topic of conversation in the clandestine meeting soon turned to how they were going to execute the plan. Tharcourt rubbed his face, gathered his thoughts, and finally slapped the desk in front of him.
"We have the perfect alibi." He stated. "I just never thought about it until now."
"Sir?" Felian queried.
"The prisoners." Drakken said. "By the stars, I hate to do it…but they're going to be executed anyway, right?"
"Likely." The scout trooper answered. "If Raliss doesn't kill them during questioning anyhow. Why? What do they have to do with it?" Tharcourt lit a cigarra and took a deep drag. He stared out into nothingness a moment, and blew the smoke from his lungs.
"Because they're going to kill Raliss." He stated grimly.
"I must ask…" Daaray spoke, "…how do you plan on that, sir?" Tharcourt took another drag.
"Because Daraay, they are going to escape." He answered, a cold bitterness in his tone. "They are going to escape and murder the hell out of Raliss and her little crony Drier. And we are going to have to kill them, I suppose." His lips quivered a moment before turning into a sneer. "I should feel worse for them than I do…"
"Sir?" Daraay asked.
"For the rebs, sergeants." The commander clarified. "I should feel pretty damned lousy for using them like this, but at least they'll have a go at freedom…even if it's just a trap. Better than dying like rats in an airlock, I guess."
"Use the prisoners escaping as an excuse…to get them into the woods? Am I following, commander?" Felian prompted.
"That is the gist of it." Tharcourt nodded slowly. He seemed lost in thought for a few moments. "I was seventeen…" He began. "You two know what you were doing when you were that age?" They didn't answer, but from their expressions, he knew they were remembering their youth, for better or worse. "I blew the legs off of a B-1, a…a battle droid the Seps used. Blew its legs off, then its arms. I knew that for the expendable piles of kriffing scrap they were, they still had some sentience…some measure of self-preservation wired into their infernal circuitry, you know?" The two sergeants gave nods. It was almost morbidly captivating to hear the commander speak of his childhood. They had all heard of course, that he'd spent his youth fighting in the Clone Wars, but to hear it from the man himself was different. He rarely spoke about anything from his past before he had become an officer, and they assumed all this time that was because it was something he had wanted to bury. They listened as he continued.
"We dragged that thing for kilometers. Finally, we sat it down in a low area between two hills. Just a…perfect position for ambush, you know? I strapped a bomb to that droid…with a timer it had to look at, just…tick…tick…ticking down. We ran and hid in the rocks with heavy blasters and rocket launchers. It uh…forced it to try and call for help…and more droids came. We wrecked…must have been two platoons of battle droids." He sighed and rapped his knuckles on the tabletop. "Using one as bait." He slowly looked up at the two sergeants. "And that's what we are doing. We're using bait."
Well, that was a chapter that started out innocent and ended on a dark note, am I right? What is Drakken's plan going to be? Will it be successful? I will try to have another chapter up in the next couple of days. Until then, please tell me what you think in the reviews. Until then loyal readers, cheerio! -Drake