Herrrooo every onion! As promised, I'm back with a new chapter for your reading pleasure. And this one takes us back to Coruscant to rejoin our favorite SpecOps commander and ISB agent as they continue dive headlong into their own mission. So enjoy!
Zala stopped the ship a block from their objective. She took a deep breath, and looked over at Drakken. He gave a grim nod. Everything was in place, as well as they could arrange it anyway. Zala had used a false ID to rent a moderately sized, secure building for a month. Then the two of them had journeyed up ten levels, where they had 'borrowed' a small ship that would be perfect for moving the crates of weapons. All that was left was to go to the meeting with the smugglers and hope that Veruna's intel had been accurate.
Tharcourt reached into his right boot, and felt the grip of the small hideout blaster jammed inside. He then checked the one hidden in his left boot. It was a hidden card, just in case, and made him feel a little more at-ease about the entire situation. Veruna saw this and rolled her eyes. Drakken had made yet another comment to her earlier about wearing tight-fitting clothes, and how it was impossible to hide spare blasters on her body. She hadn't bothered to mention that all ISB field agents were trained to deal with that sort of contingency. Zala just hoped it wouldn't come to that.
"You ready, Drakken?" She asked in a low voice.
"As ready as I'll ever be." He answered. Tharcourt huffed. "We fail and we're both dead, huh?" Her lips twitched upwards.
"Kinda messed, huh?" Veruna replied. "Either they kill us, our superiors kill us, or we come outta this thing as total heroes."
"Yeah…that sounds about right…" Drakken muttered. "…for two otherwise intelligent people dumb enough to choose this as a damned job." Zala stared at him a moment, then saw a small grin break across his face. She giggled, then gently punched his shoulder.
"Hey, we got this." She said.
"Yep." Drakken agreed quietly. The smile left his face. "If something happens…and I don't make it through this thing…"
"Shut up, Drakken."
"Just…tell Freya I'm sorry, okay?" He turned and looked into her eyes. "Understand, Zala?" She nodded.
"Yeah. Okay…I will, I swear." She sighed. "And if we both get spaced?"
"Then…thanks, I guess."
"For what?"
"At least…giving me the pleasure of fighting beside somebody worth…dying beside." He ended the statement with a wince of emotion, and nodded, gazing out the starboard viewport. The small cockpit was silent a moment.
"Damn…that's probably the sweetest thing you ever said to me." Zala finally spoke. Drakken groaned.
"Gotta ruin it, don't you?"
"Yeah, it's kinda my style. Now let's do this thing." She flew the small cargo ship alongside a bay door on the warehouse, and the two stepped out, Drakken carrying a large bag containing enough credits to hopefully buy the trust of the criminals inside. Zala knocked upon the hatch, and the door immediately swung open. Two armed aliens, a twi'lek and a pale near-human male, stood on either side of the door, their blaster pistols trained on the pair.
"Hey, hey, hey…" Veruna said, holding up her hands. "We come like, bearing gifts. Didn't forget my pretty face after one day, did you?"
"How could anybody forget the crazy terrorist couple?" The man from the night before returned, stepping into the open. "Didn't blow anything up on the way over here, did you?"
"We've tried to keep our well-lamented proclivities to a minimum down here." Drakken stated. "I am surprised at the lack of Imperial presence here though. From what we heard, the underworld of Coruscant is crawling with Imps."
"Spies…informants…undercover agents." The broker explained. "You don't see them, at least until they want you to."
"Then how about we buy what we came after and get the Hell out of here." Zala said. "I'd rather deal with enemies I can see…on a planet I know."
"Did you bring the credits this time?" The man asked. Tharcourt held up the bag.
"Did you find us the information we wanted?" Veruna returned.
"Yeah, maybe…I got a guy. He said he'd meet with you…"
"But?" Veruna asked suspiciously.
"He'll meet with you, but if he even remotely thinks you're dangerous…he'll kill you faster than we will." The man stated. Veruna narrowed her eyes. This could be it, the moment she'd been pursuing for months now.
"Who is he?" She asked, feigning suspicion.
"Oh, that's for him to know." The arms dealer grinned. "Now, let's…as they say…conclude our transaction before you…enter into other arrangements with…secondary parties." He chuckled as if his use of proper business verbiage was an inside joke. "We have your merchandise on the floor, ready to go. There's just the issue of payments due."
"Of course." Veruna schmoozed. "Darling?" Drakken stepped forward and held up the bag.
"Now if I give this to you, and your guys blast me, I'm going to be really pissed off." He quipped. The dealer stepped up and gently took hold of the bag's handle.
"No worries, pal. Business is business." He took the bag from Tharcourt, and hefted it up and down a couple of times. "You guys overpay or what?"
"Little extra something, for your trouble." Zala winked. "We try to keep a good relationship with suppliers we like, you know?"
"Well, I appreciate the gesture, but you guys being rebels like you are…no offense, but the less I see of you, the better. Now, I take it that's your ship parked outside my warehouse?"
"Yes sir." Drakken answered. "And we'd appreciate if your men loaded it up." The man gave a nod over his shoulder, and his minions began moving the crates to the bay door. "Now where is this mystery fella with all the intel?" The dealer shot a thumb behind him.
"Upstairs. The big office." The two started moving toward a flight of metal stairs. "Hold up. Your weapons." Veruna huffed irritably as she handed over her blaster. Drakken simply drew both of his, and spun them grip-out, handing them off to a human man beside him. "Your merch will be loaded if you come back down." The black-market salesman said with a cheerful salute.
They made their way to the stairs, and climbed to the second floor of the warehouse. Drakken took the lead, feeling almost a sense of duty to protect a now-disarmed Veruna. They walked down the catwalk a few yards, finally arriving at a closed hatch. They gave each other a final glance before Drakken rapped three times on the metal door. It whooshed open immediately, and they were met by a man pointing an E-11 carbine at them.
"I've heard of healthy paranoia, but this takes the cake." Drakken said sarcastically.
"I would rather not jest about such things, if it's all the same to you." A voice stated calmly from inside the dimly-lit room. "Enter." They stepped in, still being held at blaster-point to see two more armed humans on either side of the door. "Yes, yes…let me get a better look at you people. It is important to know who one is dealing with…from a professional standpoint, you understand?" They approached a desk, where sat a middle-aged man wearing a black jacket with a standing collar. Drakken took in his appearance. Brown-haired and middle-aged, the man was clean-shaven, with a strong jawline and piercing gray eyes. He had the look and demeanor of a man who was used to wielding power as a weapon.
"Thank you for meeting with us." Zala greeted. Tharcourt could hear a slight edge to her voice, something he only picked upon because of his time spent with her over the last two days. The man cocked his head almost imperceptibly.
"Thanks are best reserved for more…altruistic occasions, no? This is business, and I conduct my business carefully and precisely."
"Understandable." Drakken said with a nod. "We can't be too careful. Me and Ravena were just talking with the gentlemen below about how the Empire has agents even down here in this place. I'm sure you have to take every precaution you can." The man behind the desk slowly smirked.
"A man who can read the room…" He commented. "Fascinating how even a person capable of great violence of action must sometimes result to such things as digression and obsequiousness in order to prevent dangerous silence." Tharcourt felt a knot in his stomach. This man was a master of reading people, of gauging reactions and body language. And what more, he had positioned himself in a room with no window, one door, and three armed subordinates. He no doubt had some sort of weapon hidden on his person or in the desk as well. Drakken suddenly realized why Veruna seemed so taken aback earlier; this was no doubt Latoure. He steeled himself, and played along.
"On the contrary." Drakken replied. "I think conversation is the best way to get to know somebody, and figure out if you can trust them…or not." The man snarled a crooked semblance of a smile.
"Indeed. But a man's syntax and verbiage can often give away to others more than he may have intended. Take yourself for instance."
"I beg your pardon?" Tharcourt asked.
"And you've done it yet again." The man pointed out. "I have deduced from your manner of speaking that you aren't merely some off-the-line rebel fighter. You are an educated man, brought up in a rather well-to-do household, perhaps even having attended a university or academy. From your accent, I have concluded that you are from the mid-rim. Possibly Anteevy, Garos…Mandalore, perhaps?" Drakken didn't allow himself to respond to the statement. "You have the bearing of a military man…more than just an insurgent. Not quite as rigid and proper as an Imperial. I would say…some planetary defense force or militia."
"I did fight in the clone wars…" Tharcourt admitted.
"Against separatists?"
"Yeah." Drakken said bitterly.
"Hm. And now you fight against the Empire."
"They started it."
"Such a pity." The man said. "A bitter, hate-filled man with a modicum of intelligence and the raw talent of murder...fighting against an army who is incapable of winning a battle save through intimidation or overwhelming numbers. Tsk. Tsk. What was your name again…I didn't quite make your proper acquaintance."
"Drake. Colton Drake."
"You're lying." The man stated.
"Of course I am. We're buying illegal weapons and information from the black market with stolen Imperial credits. Why would I give you my real name?" Drakken said with a wry smile.
"Hm. You know sarcasm is the defense of either a weak mind or a frightened will."
"I feel that a man who's scared of a genius is a guy that don't have much faith in his own smarts." Tharcourt said. The man sneered again, then turned his attention to Veruna.
"Would you say the same, my dear girl?" He asked.
"I like…think I have enough brain cells to get by on." Zala shrugged.
"Indeed so? And how did you come to be in the rebellion against the Empire, praytell?" Zala started to speak, but he cut her off. "It must be hard on a young woman from the upper levels of Coruscant to live the life of a rogue."
"Nah. Not at all." Zala returned without missing a beat. "I was a bored child." She knew his game. He was trying to pry into their minds, guessing at their origins and experiences through their behavior and intimidating them with it to get them to slip up. Latoure had been an expert in this technique. Some ISB agents called it "The Reflection". It was an insidious art of siphoning enough out of someone's subconscious to be able to confront them with information about themselves that nobody could have known. Drakken had played the game well, and now it was her turn.
"I can see how the life of danger can be exciting to someone like you." Latoure said. "You do enjoy being the center of attention, don't you?" He sneered. "You must take care though. Your…proclivity for attracting eyes and your carnal pursuits may prove detrimental to your lifespan."
"Hey, my…carnal pursuits are between me and this guy next to me, alright? I really think we should like…get down to business." Veruna said. She waved a hand dismissively. "I totally didn't come for a lecture on being a good girl."
"Very well." Latoure conceded. He looked between them for a moment, then drew a large digital pad from the desk, and placed it down. "You wanted to acquire information on Imperial strength in the mid-rim, no?"
"That's what we're after." Drakken answered. "Troop strength, garrisons, bases, as much as you can give us." Latoure drew a smaller datapad and tapped it a few times.
"I take it this information is for…tactical purposes?"
"You got that right." Zala grinned.
"Well then, I'm going to bring up a map on this screen before me." Latoure said, motioning to the large device. "You may approach." They moved closer to the desk, and looked down on the blank screen. "I can assume that you have the sum of ten-thousand credits for this small prize?"
"Oh yeah, you'll get your credits." Veruna nodded.
"There's just one small thing." Latoure added.
"What's that?" Zala asked.
"Gentlemen." The man spoke. Immediately, two of the armed thugs seized Drakken and Veruna. Before they could resist or question what was happening, their captors pressed the duo's right hands onto the screen. The device immediately lit up and emitted a beeping noise.
"Aw shaz…" Zala groaned. Latoure's datapad chirped, and he looked at the screen, a satisfied expression on his face.
"Ahhh…it is so nice to meet you, Commander Drakken Tharcourt of Imperial Special forces. Your reputation precedes you. And Major Zala Veruna of ISB. My, my…I was wondering when they would send someone to repair the imbalance in their little equation. You really need to update the photograph in your file though, Major. You did look better with green hair, in my opinion."
"It clashed with my eyes." Zala growled.
"Of course." Latoure smirked. "Now what to do with the pair of you?"
"Well, I suggest you surrender to Imperial forces immediately," Drakken answered smugly. "And throw yourself on the mercy of the court. I'm sure your past service will be taken into account."
"And why, praytell should I do that?" The rogue spy asked.
"Because we have an assault team on standby, two blocks down." Tharcourt said. "If we don't check in with the Lieutenant in one hour, he has orders to take this warehouse down with extreme prejudice. We could have a peaceful resolution to this damned mess though." Latoure leaned forward over his desk.
"You're a terrible liar, Commander Tharcourt." He chuckled. "I should have you killed for that alone." He tapped a finger on his desk. "In fact…" Zala made a slight movement toward him, something not lost on the evil rogue agent. "Hmm. You were not, in fact lying about your involvement with this man, were you? Interesting." He smiled mischievously. "You will make an excellent source of valuable information, Commander. You, on the other hand…" He gestured toward Veruna. "…I have no real use for you." Tharcourt jerked defiantly against the hold of the man restraining him.
"Don't you touch a hair on her head, Latoure." Drakken growled. "You do…and I'll kill you." Latoure, a sinister smile still plastered on his countenance, stood and walked to where Veruna was being held. He gently reached out and plucked a single strand of pink hair from her scalp. Then holding it gingerly between two fingers, he wiggled it in front of Drakken's face.
"Indeed?" The ex-ISB agent asked mockingly. He took the hair by the ends and pulled, snapping the strand. "Hm. You fail to understand, Commander…Imperial law dictates that I should be executed for my apparent crimes. If I were truly terrified of hollow threats from mid-level functionaries such as yourself, I would no doubt still be languishing in The Bureau right now." His eyes moved to the man behind Tharcourt. "Take them somewhere secure. I want to uncover what they know before I terminate them, so please do not damage them…too badly."
Tharcourt and Veruna were wrested down the stairs, and to a small room in the back of the warehouse. Drakken was cuffed to a large metal pipe on the wall, and Zala was similarly handcuffed to a durasteel loop on the floor used for securing crates. The two thugs didn't converse with them, nor did they threaten them. Once the Imperial officers were bound in the room, the two men simply left, locking the heavy metal door behind them. Drakken pulled at the binders on his wrists a few times, then satisfied that he was going nowhere, he slumped down to a sitting position on the floor.
"Well this blows." He heard Zala comment, and looked up to see her sit down, a pouty look on her face. "A simple job; go down, find Latoure and arrest him. You know they're gonna totally torture us, right?"
"Yeah. I gathered that much." Tharcourt returned snidely.
"And they're gonna shoot us in the heads, and like, dump our naked bodies down in the abyss of this planet, and the ghouls are gonna eat us."
"Colorful, Zala." Drakken grumbled. "You know, you failed to mention when I signed on for this damned mission that this Latoure was a void-kriffing supergenius…and that he could read minds. That would have been a handy little piece of intel there, Major Veruna."
"He was the best…" Zala sighed defeatedly.
"I thought you were the best." Tharcourt scoffed.
"I'm good…really good, Drakken…" Zala began, then caught his stern expression. She slumped down a little, looking defeated. "I spy on Imperial officers, and arrest them for being naughty, okay? I go undercover and investigate sedition among the officer corps of the Imperial military. That's my job." She huffed. "I'm good at what I do...seriously, but Latoure…"
"He's out of your league." Drakken surmised. "Above your paygrade. And you knew that when you were given this mission. That's why you brought me in." She closed her eyes and nodded.
"Latoure was a galaxy-wide operative of insane proportions." She explained. "His job was to analyze the movements and actions of enemy cells, and like, predict their movements, strength, motivation, and where they were operating out of, just like, based on their behavior. Then he would head up missions to infiltrate and eliminate the bad guys. He's the biggest expert on non-invasive interrogation and low-intensity operations the ISB ever had." Veruna blew out an exasperated breath. "And he was known for being totally ruthless." She looked at Tharcourt and he saw her lower lip quiver a bit. "I'm sorry, Drakken. I seriously never meant for…this to happen. I thought it would be easy with you here. Guess I kinda messed up. I'm…sorry."
"Yeah…it's alright, Zala. I blame him more than you." He shrugged upwards. "And now we're about to get flayed, poked and boiled alive." He complained.
"Unless we get out of here." Veruna offered.
"Huh. You got some special ISB spy trick for getting out of binders?"
"Uh...yeah, use a key." She said with a small smile.
"Yeah, and where do you suggest we…what are you doing?" Drakken asked as Zala scooted toward her bound hands and started unfastening her empty gunbelt.
"ISB secret." She said with a wry smile. "We all carry a small hideout kit on us when we go on missions like this, you know?" She paused. "You maaaay want to look away, sweetie. Or watch, I don't mind." She winked.
"Oh for the love of…" Drakken grumbled, and clamped his eyes shut. He heard rustling, followed by Zala letting out a squeak. A few moments later, he felt his own cuffs releasing and opened his eyes. Veruna was grinning triumphantly.
"See? Nothing to it." She quipped, then held up a small key in her right hand, and a one-inch by five-inch metallic cylinder in the other.
"I do not…and understand…do not want to know where you had that thing hidden." Drakken stated. Veruna giggled.
"Trade secret." She said with narrowed eyes. She reached down and pulled one of the tiny blasters from Drakken's left boot. "Now, what do you think we should do about those goons likely standing guard outside the door?" They both looked at the hatch for a moment.
"Got a light?" Drakken asked.
The two gunmen stood outside the door to the room the prisoners were housed in, watching the arms dealers preparing to leave. The two men felt an almost egotistical sense of pride. The weapons smugglers were a piece of the boss' plan, and an important one, but they were just mere salesmen at the end of the day. Ladan and Bryll were muscle in the big man's personal retinue. In the grand scheme of things, that made them practically royalty in the little barony that Mister Latoure was building in the depths of Coruscant. It felt almost like a demotion to be guarding these two Imps who had tried to infiltrate their operation.
"Hey…hey!" The man yelled from the room. The guards ignored him. "Hey, you laser brains, the kriffin' building's on fire!" They looked at each other questioningly.
"Get us out of here!" The woman called. "We're burning alive in here!" They looked down to see a thin tendril of smoke curling up from the gap between the hatch and the floor.
"We need to check that out." Bryll growled. "And the boss'll kill us if we let 'em cook." Ladan nodded, and the two men opened the door to have a wall of smoke pour out into their faces. Waving their hands before them in an attempt to clear the air, they stepped into the room. Ladan heard a choking sound, and turned in time to see Bryll being dragged into the cloud, clutching at a wire across his throat. Before he could react, the gunman felt the muzzle of a blaster jammed into his side. There was a quiet thrum, and he slumped to the ground. Drakken and Zala stepped from the smoke.
"Good thing we found that old canister of cooking oil." Tharcourt commented, waving smoke away from his face. Zala coughed.
"Yeah, but you used way too much." She returned. "You ready?" Drakken took out a cigarra, and lit it on the still flaming can of oil on a nearby shelf. He stuck it in his mouth and raised his blaster. Zala smiled diabolically. "C'mon. Let's do this, babe." She held out her own weapon, and Tharcourt gently bumped hers with his own.
"You got it, Kitten." Drakken grinned. They exited the smoke, and downed two henchmen who were standing about, wondering what was happening. Another took a shot at them, but Drakken fired four times, hitting the Twi'lek man twice in the chest.
"We're under attack!" Someone called from the warehouse floor.
"And you're about to get krinked up!" Zala added, spraying the room with her small weapon.
"Hate these pocket blasters." Drakken cursed, and scooped up a better weapon from a fallen foe. "That's better." He fired at a man on the catwalk that ran along three walls of the room as Veruna grabbed an orphaned blaster of her own, an E-11 carbine, and wielded it alongside her hideaway blaster. She unleashed a torrent of bolts toward a near-human alien firing at them from behind a crate, finally catching him in the upper chest.
"For kriff's sake, you shoot like a Coruscanti!" Tharcourt yelled, and ran to cover behind a pillar, where Veruna joined him a moment later.
"Like…the Hell does that mean?!" She demanded. Drakken leaned out and fired at the man on the catwalk, who fell screaming to the floor below.
"Means you burn a power cell trying to hit one target." He answered. A short Sullustan burst through a door behind them, firing wildly, and Zala let loose with both blasters, cutting him down.
"Humph. Better than shooting like a girl, I guess." She remarked. He flashed a toothy smile, and they bolted for the stairs.
Latoure ran from his office, three of his best-armed bodyguards with him when they heard the sound of battle swell below. They made it to the stairs, and the man in front of the criminal overlord fell dead, hit twice by blaster fire from below. Latoure risked a glance below to see the two Imperial officers he had captured, now free from their bonds and decimating his small cadre of men on the warehouse floor. Drakken looked up and spotted the ex-spy above.
"Latoure!" Tharcourt bellowed. "Your ass is mine!"
"Get me to my speeder." The crime boss ordered. "The back way."
As Latoure was ferried out of the warehouse to safety by his underlings, Drakken and Veruna were mopping up the remainder of the criminals in the building. Zala found a older DLT-19(f), and was having, in Drakken's eyes, far too much fun with the weapon's full-auto capabilities. Tharcourt fired on the human man who had taken his blasters, and downed him with two well-placed shots. He allowed the ferocious ISB agent to finish off the gangsters while he retrieved his twin blasters from the body of the fallen arms dealer. As he stood, giving his pistols a spin before reentering the fray, the room grew quiet. The two realized that it was over. Around them lay the bodies of sixteen of Latoure's soldiers.
"Damn…" Zala breathed, joining Drakken as she looked about the room.
"Yeah." Drakken panted.
"We really did a number on this place." She commented. "Me and you make like, a Hell of a team." She held out her massive blaster, and he bumped it with his pistol.
"You got that right." He nodded. "Latoure got away." Zala bit her lip, suppressing a smile.
"Wanna go get him, sweetie?" She asked nonchalantly.
"Hell yes." He stated. She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"We need a ride."
"We have one." Drakken reminded her.
"We have a piece of junk light cargo ship." She countered.
"Correction, my dear Veruna. A piece of junk light cargo stuffed full of blasters and detonators." He looked about the room, then ran over to a table against one of the walls, where he retrieved the bag of credits. "And enough credits to buy half of this level."
"Holy farkle, Drakken…" Zala gasped. "…I know you ain't thinking what I like, think you're thinking." Drakken shrugged.
"Son of a bantha wants to build an army, he'd better be ready for a war."
It looks like Drakken's assignment has gone from investigative to full-blown combat operation in about 2.5. What will his grand strategy to catch Latoure be? And how much damage to COruscant can we expect to happen in the process? Tune in next time to find out! A new chapter will be forthcoming in the next couple of days, so you haven't long to wait, loyal readers. Until then, Cheerio!
