As promised, here is the second chapter of Imperials, as a girft to all my loyal readers for May the 4th. And what a chapter this is! We're back on Coruscant, with Drakken and Veruna preparing for their fight with Latoure. So let's join the chase. Enjoy the chapter, my friends!
"Never try to live decently, boy—not unless you're willing to open your life to tragedy and sadness. Live like a beast, and no event, no matter how harrowing, will ever be able to move you." -Jova Tarkin, giving life-advice to a young Willhuff
"Drakken…Babe, slow down!" Zala demanded as Tharcourt raced the small cargo ship through the skylanes of Coaruscant's lower levels. The commander disregarded marked lanes, and weaved in-and-out of speeders, even flying into oncoming traffic twice.
"Can't." He stated grimly, gripping the yoke like he was about to rip it out of the floor. He shoved the stick forward, and the ship dove down through three more levels of airspeeders.
"Why not?!" She yelled.
"Because we're being followed." Drakken growled. Zala cursed and flipped around in her seat, trying to catch a glimpse of who was pursuing them. "Green speeder." He said. "We picked it up a few klicks back. Four subjects."
"Latoure?"
"That's my guess." Drakken answered. "I tried to lose them, but…hold on." He banked the tiny freighter hard, drifting around a street corner, causing two speeder cars to collide. "Ah! This ship is slower than Hell." He continued. "Not to mention it sticks out like a Hutt in a ballgown."
"That's the plan, right?" Zala asked. "We wanted them after us."
"Yeah that's the plan, don't mean I have to like it…" Drakken returned. "And it's too soon…and we're not at the warehouse." Veruna fell back into her seat and huffed. Earlier that afternoon, they had dropped off their prisoner, then used a stolen ship to move the weapons Drakken had ordered from ISB into the warehouse where this whole thing had begun. The guerrilla expert had then taken an hour to set up explosives, booby traps and the huge E-Web in specific locations throughout the large building. Then, he had driven through the city at a leisurely pace before suddenly initiating the bold maneuvers that were about to give the ISB major a heart attack.
"Can you lose them?"
"Nope." Drakken said indifferently. A blaster bolt shot past the pilot-side windscreen. He clenched his teeth. "And they're shooting at us. Lovely…lovely."
"Whadda we do, babe?" Veruna asked.
"Can you fly?"
"I like to think so." She answered.
"Then you'd better think positive, Kitten. Take the stick." He threw himself into the back, and the small-statured woman easily slid into the pilot's chair. "Keep her steady, sweetheart." Drakken called from the cargo bay. He drew his twin Westar-35 blasters and took a deep breath. He hit the button on the wall to his right, opening the rear door. A green ComfortRide air speeder raced along, just thirty meters behind them. From the small ship, a man took a shot at Drakken with a blaster rifle, the red gas projectile striking the transport just beside the rear hatch.
Drakken took aim and fired six slow, aimed shots at the pursuing craft, two of his rounds ricocheting off of the front of the speeder. Two humans in the ship fired back, and Tharcourt pivoted out of the way as two bolts entered the cargo bay, but burned away harmlessly into the walls. He leaned out and fired three more times with his left hand, another bolt hitting the enemy ship. The men inside ducked, but rose up to fire back a moment later. He growled. This was going nowhere. Latoure's men had a faster ship and more powerful weapons. Wait…
"Zala, fly like mad!" Tharcourt called. "I have a plan!"
"About time, bae!" She called back. "I was starting to get worried." She banked the ship around a corner, and Drakken fell into the wall. He shook it off, and holstered his blasters. The arms dealer had said something about a heavier weapon when they had bought the illegal arms. He opened one of the crates, and looked inside. His eyes widened. Drakken reached inside, and hefted out a Z-6 Rotary Blaster Cannon. A wave of nostalgia rushed over him as he recognized the huge blaster; that bounty hunter girl, Sugi, had brought one to Garos during his time in the rebellion as a teenager. The old Clone Wars era weapon sported six barrels, and offered the kind of firepower he'd be hoping for.
"Uh…Zala?" He said. "I think I want to keep this." She looked back, and her mouth fell open. She snapped her head back forward and dodged a few airspeeders, then looked back again for a moment.
"Yeah…yeah, okay…" Zala panted. "Tell you what, babe…we like, kriffing live through this…keep it. I didn't see anything. You look totally hot with that…and I mean with a capitol 'H'."
"Wait till you see what I'm about to do with it…" He remarked, looking around the cargo bay. He knew from experience that the weapon needed a power source, and luckily, he spotted an outlet on the bulkhead. Drakken went to plug in the power supply cable of the Z-6, when a series of bolts from the pursuing ship shot past, two impacting inside the freighter. Veruna dove down, and Tharcourt fell into the back of the pilot's seat, the heavy gun knocking the wind out of him for a moment.
"You okay, Drakken?" Zala gasped. He coughed as she leveled out the ship.
"Yeah…sure. Try not to kill me, Kitten. You might need me for now." He got to his feet and plugged in the cable.
"Oh, I need you morning, noon and night." Veruna commented. Drakken flipped the power switch on, and a single green light on the blaster illuminated. He grinned.
"Save it for the after-party." He stated.
"That didn't sound like a 'no.'" Zala hinted. Tharcourt threw the carry strap over his shoulder and braced the rotary blaster into his hip.
"Right now, I'm reliving a moment." He said intensely. "And you remind me of a really cute gal with horns, so don't ruin it." He walked to the back of the ship, and raised the blaster. He could see the enemy pilot's eyes widen just before he pulled the trigger. A solid blue ray of plasma streaked from the weapon, and he walked it onto the air speeder. The craft began to belch black smoke and flame as Drakken continued to pump a pure stream of energy into it. One of the gunmen dove out just before the ship exploded in a ball of fire and debris. He released the trigger and watched the remains of the attacker's ship drop down into the bowels of the city.
"If this were Garos…this would be a swell day…" He huffed, and hit the button on the wall, closing the hatch. Drakken dropped the weapon on the deck and squeezed back into the cockpit, sitting in the copilot seat. He blew out a breath. "Four goons down." He muttered, and lit a cigarra. Zala huffed out a few hitching breaths, her eyes wide with frantic desire. Her cheeks were red, sweat beaded on her forehead, and she looked almost on the verge of a full meltdown.
"Nnngh…I love you." She said breathlessly. Tharcourt shot her a grin and shrugged. She caught her breath, and came down from her moment. "Okay…what now?"
"Let's see if we can't catch a few more fish." Drakken returned. He guided her back to the nightclub, and she sat the ship down half a block away. Instead of going directly to the burned-out building, Tharcourt led her to a dark alleyway just up the street. They ducked in, and just past a large, derelict trash receptacle, he pulled her into the shadows. Tharcourt drew a cylindrical device from his coat, and began fiddling with the controls as the intelligence officer looked on curiously.
"Incendiary grenade." He stated.
"I know what it is." Zala countered defensively. "What are you doing with it?" He slapped a small remote into her palm.
"See that red button?" He asked. "Don't touch that red button." He rotated the top of the canister, and the device beeped, a red light on the end blinking on. "Especially now. You stay here, behind this bin. When I come back down this alley…if you see anyone behind me, you wait until I get to right here, then you hit that button and duck. Understand?"
"What are you…"
"Just trust me. The more we dust now, the fewer we have to deal with later." She nodded.
"I know. Just like, be careful…okay?" Zala whispered. He smiled sadly and nodded. Zala grabbed him around the neck, and hoisted herself up, planting a deep kiss on his lips. She stared into his eyes. "I totes mean it. Be careful." He nodded again.
"Just be ready with that detonator." He said. He started to walk away, then paused. He turned his head back slightly toward her. "You'd have made a great freedom fighter on Garos, Kitten." He commented. "We'd have had a Hell of a time." With that, Drakken left the alley, leaving Zala alone in the shadows, and depositing the grenade on a pile of trash halfway down the passage. She slumped down against the wall.
"I was born on the wrong planet…" She muttered bitterly.
Drakken walked casually down the street toward the ruins of Latoure's club. He dallied outside of the building for a few moments, seemingly admiring his and Veruna's handiwork. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed two men standing nearby, both wearing dark clothing, and neither looking like they belonged there. Drakken began to whistle a military march from academy as he turned and strolled back toward the alley. A parked speeder gave him the opportunity to surreptitiously gaze into the windscreen, and see the reflection of the two men following him. Drakken smiled to himself. Further down the street, he dropped a credit on the sidewalk. He shifted to the side and bent to pick it up. As he looked up, the two men leaned up against the wall of a nearby building, pretending poorly to be loitering.
Tharcourt acted like he didn't notice the miscreants, nor a male weequay joining them. He turned on his heels, and continued down the street. He reached the alley and started down the corridor, his hands in the pockets of his long coat. He silently hoped that Veruna would have good judgement on when to trigger the explosive. He reached the trash bin and paused, then stepped forward. Suddenly, he dove to the left, behind the steel box, a split second before the alleyway behind him erupted in a rolling cloud of fire. He looked into the eyes of Zala, her face only inches away from his. She smiled deviously.
"Close call." He said.
"Admit it." She stated. "You thought I was going to totally roast you." She cracked a sly grin.
"Thought crossed my mind a time or two." He smiled. She narrowed her eyes.
"Mmm…don't think I'm ready to kill you just yet." She cooed. He rolled his eyes, and stood, and Veruna made an exasperated sneer before standing herself. The alley was completely black, with small fires clinging for life against the duracrete walls of the parallel buildings. Three charred bodies lay on the ground, and Drakken frowned.
"Poor bastards…" He grumbled. "Hell of a way to go."
"Hm. Just think of what they would've done to us." Zala commented.
"That's how I sleep at night, Zala…" He said in a low voice, and led her back to the ship. He flew them to the warehouse, and parked the freighter a safe distance away. From the back, Tharcourt retrieved some spare power cells, a pocket full of thermal detonators, and an E-11 blaster. Veruna grabbed the DLT-19 she favored, along with a pair of DT-29 blaster pistols. They entered the warehouse, and Drakken slid shut the tall doors. He paused a moment and took a deep breath.
"That's it." He said stoically. "The next time we go through these doors, it's gonna be through victory or death." Veruna closed her eyes and sighed.
"Yeah." She breathed. "Let's hope it's the first one. Drakken?"
"Yeah?"
"I've never done anything like this before." She said in a soft voice. "Think we're gonna live through it?"
"This is how it was every day back then." Tharcourt answered. He kicked a loose piece of duracrete. "Every morning…we'd wonder if we'd see the sunset. Every night…we knew we might not see the dawn." He looked past her, his eyes following the contour of the walls, tracing the metal railing on the catwalk, and admiring the perfect circles of the lights above. "It made every sunset the most beautiful we'd ever seen…every dawn was like a new hope rising. Every time I came back from a raid or an ambush…my stale, mealy food was the best damned thing I had ever eaten in my life." He gave Zala a smile. "This is how you live, Kitten. Right now, in this moment, you're feeling what it means to really be alive."
"I…" She began. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A sense of tranquility washed over her, and she couldn't help but smile too. "You know…I really don't care about reports right now." She said, and nodded. "General Versio, Colonel Armande, psh…Emperor Palpatine…they seem so far away right now. All of it…I dunno…"
"Doesn't matter a damn, does it?" Drakken nodded.
"No…not right now." Veruna admitted. "This what it's like, Drakken?" He lit a cigarra and drew his blaster pistols, checking the power levels of each. He shot a grin at Veruna.
"Welcome to my world, Kitten." Veruna hoisted up the long-barreled DLT-19 and drew back the charging handle.
"Rawr." She stated. Tharcourt busied himself with attaching trip lines to the main doors of the building. Finished with that task, he walked behind a stack of crates toward the back of the floor, and confirmed the calibration of the huge heavy blaster mounted on a tripod and concealed behind the boxes. He turned to the back wall nearby, where the mannequin lay behind a weapons crate containing six incendiary charges, its clothing singed with four blaster shots. He smirked, and threw the dummy a salute.
"Sorry to do this to you, Drakken old man." He said. "But better you than me." He knelt down and carefully positioned a detonator pad, its button reverse-wired to fire upon releasing pressure on the switch, underneath the effigy. He then armed the explosives, and looked up. Veruna was on the metal stairway, looking down on him nervously.
"We uh…we want to be clear of this thing when it goes." He advised. "Most of the fire's gonna shoot up. Enough's gonna spread out to cover most of the floor though, and this stuff sticks and burns, so…yeah." He joined her on the stairs, and they made their way to the top floor of the warehouse. Zala paused by the exit door in the hall, where Drakken had bolted a length of spring steel to the top of the doorframe, then bent it upwards where it was barely held in place by a swivel-latch affixed to the duracrete ceiling. A long bolt had been slid into a hole in the strap, just in front of the latch, its end sharpened with a grinder, and a tripline ran from the latch to an eyebolt in the doorframe, then across the hatchway.
"I still don't get it." She commented.
"You're not supposed to." Drakken replied. The first nerfherder through that door is." He then ran two tripwires across the hall, at ten-foot intervals, and attached them to a pair of thermal detonators, their arming caps removed, and the wires connected directly to the firing mechanism. "Now remember…" He said, "…when we pull back to this floor, don't kriffin' hit these. We'll be under fire, so don't forget, okay?" Zala nodded fearfully.
"As if…" She returned. "I don't feel like getting launched through the ceiling."
"Okay…we're set." Tharcourt declared. "Now…we wait."
The two of them sat side-by-side on the stairs, Drakken silently and absentmindedly digging into a can of tinned rations, occasionally bringing a spoonful to his mouth. Veruna sat, putting finishing touches on her makeup. She still wore her chestplate, but had shed her tunic, now wearing a tanktop underneath the armor that bore her rank insignia. She had also ditched her high-heeled boots, changing back into her brown leather sandals. She smacked her lips in a small compact mirror, and took a sip of the caf she had made in a dispenser found upstairs.
"So…what are you thinking about right now?" Zala asked. Drakken tossed the can down onto the floor of the warehouse.
"Freya." He stated. "I uh…I promised her I'd come back." He sniffed. "Miss her…and I hope I don't…" He trailed off.
"Don't what?" Veruna said softly.
"Break her heart." The man muttered. Zala scooted down two steps and put an arm around him.
"You'll make it back." She stated. "I know you. You'll totally kill death itself to get back." She gave a sad smile. "You love her, don't you?"
"Maybe." Drakken replied. "She's the best friend I ever had and…I don't think I could picture life without her anymore." He paused a moment. "We can't be together…ever. It's so kriffed to think about. No way we could ever…but…I guess I can still love her." Zala gave him a gentle squeeze.
"Yeah. You can." She agreed. "I love a guy. Don't think he feels the same, and I like, think I understand why. I'm so not his type, and I annoy him to death." She rested her head on his shoulder. "Beginning to think I'm an idiot for trying, but I'm still allowed to love him…even if he's out of my league." Tharcourt shook his head gently from side to side.
"Not out of your league, Zala…" He said. "Maybe…he just doesn't know what he wants." Drakken turned his head and pressed a soft kiss onto her forehead. "Maybe he just has issues…you know, trauma. Stuff he can't get past right now. But he's sure not better than you…annoying as you are."
"Yeah…" She sighed.
"What are you thinking about?" He asked.
"My daddy..." Zala said in a dismayed tone. "Like…before I left for Imperial Academy, he gave me some, you know, advice…" Drakken looked over at her.
"Did you take it?" He asked with a half-amused smile. She stuck out her bottom lip.
"Nooo…" She whined. Drakken grinned. Suddenly, they heard the sound of multiple ships and speeders coming to a stop outside of the warehouse. Drakken sat his E-11 against the railing, and Veruna picked up her DLT-19.
"Is the crazy old soldier ready for this mess?" Zala shot. Drakken grinned.
"Always." He answered. "How about the spoiled rich girl?"
"You'd better believe it." They hurried down the stairs and made their way to the two windows overlooking the street at the front of the building. Cautiously peering out, they beheld an almost unnerving sight; three large speeders and four smaller ones were parked outside. There was at least a dozen of Latoure's henchmen already moving into positions near the warehouse. A fancy speeder car pulled up, and a very large human man walked to the window. He exchanged a few words with someone in the backseat, then the vehicle slowly flew away, no doubt parking somewhere close by. The man stepped toward the building, and halted, standing beside one of the smaller air speeders.
"The boss sends his regards." The man spoke. "And wants you to know that as much damage as you've done to his operation, it is nothing he cannot recover from."
"Means he's ruined." Tharcourt commented. Zala snickered.
"That said, you have two options, Commander Drakken Tharcourt and ISB Major Zala Veruna…" He continued. "You either surrender now, and get what's coming to you…or we take the building, and you just postpone your deaths by minutes." He paused for dramatic effect. "What is your answer?" Drakken nodded in acceptance. He yelled out the window.
"We are willing to accept the immediate and unconditional surrender of Janus Latoure." He stated. "You turn him over to us…we will allow you all to walk away. That is our offer."
"We are going to take that building and tear you to pieces. You do realize this." The man called back.
"So that's no to your surrender?" Drakken shouted jovially.
"You have ten seconds to open those doors…then we're coming in." Drakken shot Veruna a knowing glance. He drew one of his blaster pistols. "Ten! Nine!"
"Got him?" Zala asked calmly. Tharcourt placed his left hand palm-up on the window sill, and rested the blaster in it. He got into a comfortable position.
"Six…five…"
"Yeahhh…I got him." Drakken said, lining up the weapon's sights with the man, standing thirty meters distant in the dim light. "Call it."
"Three!"
"Take him." A single bolt of blue energy streaked from the Westar, and struck the henchman in the forehead. The other cronies watched as the big man slumped lifelessly to the ground. Drakken and Zala ducked down under the windows, and a moment later blaster fire began to pour into the building.
"Now's the time to use that." Drakken said, nodding toward Veruna's rifle. She held the blaster up and fired a long string of shots out the window. As her side of the room began to receive heavier fire, Tharcourt popped up briefly, and killed two of the gangsters with a volley from his pistols. He ducked, and red, blue and green bolts flew over his head. "Fall back to the stairs!" He called.
The two of them ran to the stairway, firing bolts through the windows as they went, and continuing to discharge their weapons onto the street as they backed up the metal stairs to a large container they had lugged halfway up. They ducked down behind it, and Tharcourt changed out the power cells in his Westars. Zala checked the power level on her DLT-19, heaved a disgusted sigh, and tossed the weapon over the railing. She drew her own smaller blasters. Down below, there was a tremendous banging on the two tall, narrow metal doors. Drakken smirked.
"That's it…" He muttered. "…you're almost in…" The doors gave way, and five thugs, three humans and two weequay, burst into the room just as the doors pulled on their tripwires. Toward the back of the large room, two empty crates fell to the floor, exposing the barrel of an E-Web heavy repeating blaster. Drakken grinned. "Say hello to my little friend."
A strange, boxlike module with a glowing red bubble was mounted to the right side of the weapon, and as the crates fell away, the target-acquisition CPU suddenly noticed the five enemy combatants in its field of fire. The barrel swiveled slightly to the left, and the E-Web disgorged a torrential reign of fire onto the gangsters, shredding them instantly. Another fighter pivoted into the doorway, and was cut down by the huge cannon.
"They have artillery!" Someone called from the street.
"Well knock it out!" Another voice returned. "Who has a thermal detonator? Whilly…do it!" A few seconds later, two of the round devices rolled into the room, and stopped against the crate in front of the heavy blaster. They exploded, and the E-Web was destroyed. "Go…go…go!" The voice ordered. Six gunmen rushed into the room, weapons ready, but there was no sign of their quarry.
"Where are they?" One of the men said in a demanding voice.
"Clear the room." A man in combat armor ordered. "Check every space…every room!" A Twi'lek man threw open the door to a small supply closet, only to have the door pull a thin wire, resulting in a blaster strapped to the wall of the storage room firing into his head. The team turned in time to see him fall dead. The leader of the group growled. "Booby traps…" He commented angrily. "Keep searching."
"I found one!" A woman in a black, hooded coat called, leaning over a crate. "It looks like the Imperial officer guy." She stepped around the crate to the body on the floor, her blaster trained on the motionless figure. "Not so tough anymore, huh?" She remarked, then knelt down. Two more thugs stepped into the warehouse as the woman grabbed the mannequin's shirt. Drakken took Veruna's hand, and they darted up the stairs. The man in armor raised his blaster, then it donned on him what was happening.
"Don't touch that!" The team leader bellowed, a second too late. The woman pulled on the dummy, and beneath it, the detonator pad beeped once. A moment later, a ball of fire encompassed most of the warehouse floor, along with six of the henchmen inside. The seventh managed to dive out the door as the firebomb erupted. He rolled on the sidewalk, trying to extinguish his burning pant-leg.
At the back of the building, two of Latoure's thugs made their way to an entrance in the alley. The door was standing open. The first man stepped on a tarp in front of the access, where Drakken had earlier removed the grating over the drainage system below. He fell straight down, breaking both ankles on impact. The second thug, a lifelong criminal weequay, leaped over the hole and into the dark opening, tripped over the nearly invisible wire strung across the doorway, and landed facedown on the bed of nails.
Five more gangsters rushed inside the warehouse in a third wave, firing in every direction. From the corner at the top of the stairs, Drakken fired both of his blasters, eliminating one of the newcomers. Two more entered, and from a small window overlooking the warehouse floor, Zala sent a rain of bolts from her twin blaster down on the group, scoring a kill on one of the gunmen and wounding another before their return fire forced her to vacate the tiny room. Drakken now quickly consulted a datapad. Zala had linked the device to the cameras on the outside of the warehouse. Through one of the cameras, he could see Latoure's fancy speeder, still parked at the end of the block. He could also discern that another group of four armed people were making entry into the front of the building, and two were coming up the stairs at the back. Perfect…
Drakken pulled a remote from his pocket, and switched it on. He pressed the red button, and out on the street, four hidden thermal detonators and two incendiary bombs detonated where the speeders were parked. One of the larger air speeders and two of the smaller ones were caught in the blast, and their explosions added to the conflagration. The gangsters on the warehouse floor paused, startled by the blast, and turned toward the door. Drakken swung out around the corner at the top of the stairs and opened fire, killing two of them, including a twi'lek who looked like the new team leader, before they remembered what they had come for.
Outside, the two henchmen crept up the stairs. They reached the door, and a zabrak male, one of Latoure's best fighters, tried the door handle. It was locked. The zabrak simply raised his blaster pistol, and destroyed the lock with one shot. He grabbed the handle and threw open the door. He heard fire to his left. At least one of them had his back to the exit. This would be too easy. He stepped in, and felt a wire catch across the front of his leg. There was a flash of something grey, and he felt a pain in his chest before everything went black. The young human man behind the zabrak was spattered with blood as the twelve-inch bolt impaled his comrade. He threw himself back against the railing of the stairs and started cursing.
Tharcourt hopped over the first tripwire, and jogged down the corridor. Below, what was left of Latoure's soldiers were firing in every direction, not yet able to organize enough to form a plan. He couldn't help but to muse over how sentients and battle droids were so alike; you remove their leader and back them into a corner, and they always lose the ability to think. He passed by the exit door, where a henchman stood behind the victim of the spring-loaded booobytrap, unable to form a coherent sentence.
"Oh mother of sweet kriffing love of chuff-sucking…" Drakken simply shot the man in the chest as he ran past, sending the thug toppling over the railing to the alley below. He hopped over the second tripwire, and glanced over to make sure that the canister of coaxium was still nestled beside the thermal detonator where he left it, baking under a heating coil from a cooking range. He burst into the office at the end of the hall to find Zala already there, her two blasters pointed at him.
"Kriffin' hell, babe…" She panted, lowering her weapons. "We getting out of this dump or what?" Drakken strode to the wall and removed a ventilation duct.
A minute later, the two of them slithered out of an intake and dropped five feet to the alley below. They moved through the shadows, around the block, crept across the street, and crouched behind a vacant two seat vehicle. Drakken nodded, and they slinked up to the high-end red air speeder on the corner. Tharcourt stood up in front of the rear driver-side window, and rapped politely on the glass. It rolled down, and he found himself looking at the criminal mastermind he had been pursuing.
"Latoure." Drakken greeted. He raised a blaster in his right hand. "Why don't you step out of that ride and convince me why I shouldn't kill you." The rogue ISB agent smiled condescendingly.
"Commander Tharcourt…" He said derisively. "I may have underestimated you."
"Hm. You think?" Drakken scoffed. "What do you think, Zala? Arrest him…" He pointed his Westar at the crime lord's head. "…or see how big his brain really is?"
"There's still the matter of my soldiers, commander." Latoure stated calmly.
"I wouldn't count on them." Drakken said with a smile. The ground trembled as an explosion leveled the warehouse. "They got a little…burned out with their jobs." Latoure chuckled.
"Witty, commander." He commented. "But alas, I was not referring to those poor souls. I was speaking of these fine gentlemen…" He gestured, and Drakken turned to see four armed men standing behind himself and Veruna. "You have proven quite adroit at stalking the shadows and setting up your little traps…" The crime boss said. "…now the game is up." Drakken felt the muzzle of a blaster pressing into the back of his head. "On my word, you will be erased from this life, Tharcourt…" Latoure added. "And I think I will allow my friends to make an example of you, Agent Veruna."
"Go to Hell…" Zala growled through clenched teeth as a gunman jammed a blaster into her back.
"What are you waiting for?" Drakken asked. "If it's another elegant little soliloquy, I can do without." Latoure sneered.
"Very well. It was nice meeting you, Commander Tharcourt." He raised his hand in a signal. "Do…" Before he could finish, Tharcourt spun about, knocking his opponent's blaster aside with his left forearm. He headbutted the assassin, and drew his left blaster. Using the thug for cover, he shot another of the gunmen twice in the chest just as the man fired his blaster, grazing Drakken's side.
Meanwhile, Veruna absorbed a painful blast to the back panel of her ISB-issue cuirass, and backhanded her would-be killer. She rammed her right knee into his groin, and a second later, her knuckles impacted his throat. As he dropped, choking to death, Tharcourt shot the gangster who still pointed his blaster at Zala. They turned back in time to see Latoure's speeder rocket off down the street.
Without hesitation, Drakken and Zala hopped into the empty speeder, and shot off after the fleeing craft. Drakken pressed the throttles to full power as he attempted to catch Latoure before he could escape again. Latoure's ship dipped down, flying straight at the core of the planet, and Tharcourt did the same. The ships shot down a hundred levels before the red air speeder leveled out. Drakken remained glued to the other ship. He glanced over, and saw Zala wince and slowly wiggle her body a bit.
"You okay, Kitten?" He asked.
"Yeah…" She answered. "Ugh…armor took the most of it. This is like, top of the line. Little blunt-force trauma to the back." She raised her eyebrows. "Can I get a massage, babe?"
"Sure." He said with a smile. Drakken slid around a corner, and dove again as Latoure's driver attempted to elude them. Down again, even further into the city they went. There were fewer lights now, and seldom did they pass another speeder. "The Hell's he taking us?"
"Remember what I said about the lower levels?" Zala said.
"Yeah…"
"I wasn't making that stuff up. We go down there, we're dead." Latoure's ship descended again, and Drakken followed suit.
"No." He stated. "We go down there, he's dead." Drakken huffed. "I have an idea." He followed Latoure's ship down for another minute, then just as the air speeder began to level out, Drakken banked slightly and kept rocketing downward.
"Hold on sweetheart!" He called out.
"Babyyyyy!" Zala screamed. The smaller speeder's bow hit Latoure's craft where the windscreen met the hull, and the red airspeeder was jolted downward and to the right as Drakken's speeder lurched upwards and pitched over. Zala clung onto her seat for dear life. He fought the yoke, and tried to right them, only succeeding in turning them rightside-up just before the small ship struck a junked speeder. Veruna flipped over the windscreen and ended up on the hood. Drakken impacted the yoke, and was sure he felt a couple ribs crack from the blow. He tried to open the door, but it was jammed. He fell over in the seat and kicked the door open. Staggering out, his eyes locked onto the wreck of Latoure's ship. The luxury speeder's driver's compartment was crushed, and the ship had hit the wall of a building.
"Drak…Drakken…" Zala coughed, and rolled off of the wrecked speeder. Tharcourt started toward the craft, a limp in his gait. He drew both of his blaster pistols. A henchman fell out of the passenger side of the ship, and got to his feet. He spied Tharcourt approaching through the darkness, and tried to pull his weapon. Drakken put two rounds in the man's chest.
"Latoure!" He bellowed. The crime boss hopped out of his destroyed speeder, and fired a round at Drakken. He retrieved something long and slender from inside the vessel and started to limp off down the street. Drakken fired, missing the man by inches.
"Babe…wait up!" Zala called, hurrying to catch up to the man. She stripped off her breastplate and dropped it to the ground. Drakken was almost invisible in the darkness ahead, and seemingly single-minded in his pursuit of Latoure. She took a step, and the duracrete gave way with a sickening squelch, being eaten away by the monstrous slugs that inhabited the depths of the city. She fell through the sidewalk, and dropped ten feet, landing amid a pile of structural bars and girders. She slipped between two of the large rods, the metal bars pinning her in place. Zala struggled to get free, but stopped thrashing when she realized that she was trapped, wedged between the thick metal tubes.
"Aw kriff it…Drakken!" She called. There was no answer. "Babe!" She tried to push the supports off of her chest, but they didn't budge. "Nugh! Drakken Tharcourt, you come get me outta this right this instant!" She heard a throaty gurging sound, and she wedged her hands down between the beams that held her in place, and drew her blasters. Zala turned on the weapons' lights and looked about. In the darkness, she could see the shimmer of eyes. She began breathing harder. Something stepped forward out of the darkness. It looked vaguely human, if said human had died, been buried, then exhumed a few months later and hit with an ugly stick.
"Aww shaz…" She whimpered, aiming her weapons at the approaching figures. "This majorly blows."
Drakken marched after the fleeing crime boss, firing a shot at him every few seconds. Latoure fired back, and ran deeper into the ruins of the city. Tharcourt heard a noise to his right, and a pale, goblin-like creature leaped onto a broken windowsill. Drakken shot it twice and continued on. Only now, he couldn't see his quarry anymore. He walked forward, one blaster at arms-length, the other raised at high-ready.
"Zala?" He called softly. He looked back, but she was nowhere to be seen. His heart dropped. "Zala?!" His mind began to panic. In his wrath, he had allowed himself to leave her alone down here in this dangerous place. He felt sick. He had to find Latoure, or they'd both end up dead or wishing they were, but he refused to go back without her. "Zala…Zala where are you?!" He yelled. He rounded a corner, and ducked as a long blade was swing at his head. There was a ringing sound as the weapon struck the wall, and Drakken leapt to the side.
"It appears your lovely paramour has been claimed by this pit." Latoure said, stepping out of the shadows. He held a sword in his hands, the long blade catching what little light filtered into the broken depths of the planet. "Pity. Even I shudder to think what is becoming of her down here." He grinned evilly. "I do know however…what I should do with you!" He lunged forward and Drakken bent almost double, the blade missing his stomach by millimeters. He dodged a blow aimed for his left shoulder, and was thrown to his back by a kick from the man. His blasters fell from his hands, and he rolled out of the way as the sharp blade struck the sidewalk by his head.
"Sometimes the simplest weapons are the best, don't you think?" Latoure commented, holding the sword up. "This ancient blade was forged over five-thousand years ago from the finest beskar by Mandalorian metal-smiths on Concorde Dawn. It still works like the day it was created." He swung at Drakken, who rolled aside and hopped to his feet.
"I hate it when laser-brains go on about their weapons." Drakken growled. He spat out some blood on the sidewalk. "What? You trying to sell it? I might use it to open a letter." Latoure charged him, and Tharcourt sidestepped, and caught Latoure's arms. He flipped the man onto his back, but narrowly avoided a swipe from the sword. The former ISB operative got to his feet.
"You pathetic worm." Latoure hissed. They circled each other like lothwolves preparing to fight. "If only you were intelligent enough to realize what you are working for! The Empire is nothing but a gang of corrupt politicians…using their might to take all the riches for themselves." He made a false lunge, and Drakken instinctively jerked back. "And what do you think you will accomplish, eh? What will your reward be? Your masters will feast on the fruits of their despotism while you are thrown the tablescraps. They will rest in their palaces as you drink yourself senseless in their brothels! Ha, yes! You serve nothing but whores!"
"Your mother." Drakken replied. He dodged a cut from the sword, but was knocked to the ground again by an elbow from the spy. He felt something by his side and placed a hand on it; a section of pipe. Latoure swung down, and Drakken blocked his attack with his new weapon. Latoure struck down again, and Tharcourt parried the sword. He rolled to the side and got to his feet, holding the pipe like it were a sword of his own.
"That? That is the best you have?" Latoure chuckled. "This will be no contest. You are no swordsman, Tharcourt."
"You know…you're right." Drakken shrugged, and launched the pipe like a spear. It struck Latoure in the face, and before he could recover, Drakken had tackled him to the ground. He pinned the man's right hand and sword to the ground, and delivered a series of powerful punches to his face. Latoure gave Drakken a strong left hook, and Tharcourt fell backwards. Latoure began to stand up, but Tharcourt pounced, attempting another takedown. Latoure redirected Drakken's momentum, and hurled him to the sidewalk. He glanced up to see one of his blasters.
"If you wish to be Palpatine's dog…" Latoure panted. "…then you will die like a mongrel!" He raised his sword high, and Drakken rolled over, planting five blaster rounds in his chest. The renegade spy stumbled backwards and dropped his weapon. He put a hand to his chest. "Worthy…opponent…" He rasped. "…good show…" He fell lifeless to the ground, and Drakken didn't bother to examine his work. He scooped up his other blaster and jogged off to find Zala.
Veruna fired again and again. The ghouls seemed to come in waves, a never-ending game to see how long her stamina and her power cells would hold out. She killed one after another, the glow of her blasters firing illuminating their ghastly features. They backed off into the darkness, and Zala looked at her weapons. Both were almost dry. She let out a frustrated squeak. They would be coming again at any moment. She whimpered, her bottom lip stuck out in a pout.
"Great…" She whined. "I'm gonna die…I'm totally gonna die…" She heard the gurgling of the creatures. "Daddy's little princess…eaten by monsters…ISB…police academy…and I'm kriffing dinner…" She sniffed. The eyes began to close in around her. "Go away! I don't wanna die like this!" A hailstorm of red bolts flew into the darkness, and she heard the screech of the ghouls being hit. The rest backed off for the moment, and she looked up.
"Like I would let you die with your hair all messed up, Kitten." Drakken said.
Woo! What a ride! We got to see the belly of Coruscant, have a final boss battle, Drakken used a rotary blaster cannon, Zala almost got eaten, and Latoure is dead. Was that warehouse battle not a masterpiece of martial beauty? I even managed to sneak in some deep warrior philosophy there too. What did you all think? I really wanna hear from my readers, so drop me a line in the comments or a PM!
Now off to prepare my Star Wars dinner! Hutteese slime pods and roast womprat kebabs are my fare, and my mouth is watering! I'll have another chapter up in a few days. Until then, Happy Star Wars Day to you all, and May the 4th be with you! Cheerio!