Hello my wonderful readers out there. Told you I'd be back soon, and here I am...and here's the next chapter. After the last one, there was probably a fair amount of tears from some of you. I know there was on my end as I wrote it. I get attached to me characters, especially in a long story like this one. But like life, every story has its tragedies and its endings. As you may have guessed, the end of this one is fast approaching. Le Gasp! And after a chater like the last one? What could possibly happen next? Let's jump in and find out. Everyone ready for this? Hang on, everyone!
"You are certain Commander Tharcourt and his team are eliminated?" Admiral Ozzel asked, staring at a holoscreen on the bridge of The Executor. On the screen, a stormtrooper officer nodded.
"Yes sir, Admiral." He stated in reply. "We have two of their dead accounted for on the ground. Stormtroopers spotted them dragging two more casualties into their ship before they shot their way out of our containment zone. I estimate that there were five of them still alive when they tried to escape."
"We lost their ship on screen shortly after, Admiral." Captain Needa reported, standing behind Ozzel. The fleet commander perked up an eyebrow.
"Continue, Lieutenant." He spoke to the man on the screen.
"Yes sir. During the aerial battle, we detected the emergency distress signal of their shuttle for a few moments, then the signal went dead. At the same time, combat controllers completely lost the ship from their sensors as well. From what we saw from the ground, the TIE squadron leader and Commander Tharcourt's ship must have collided in combat."
"Have you found any wreckage?" Ozzel demanded.
"There's a large amount of wreckage in the area, yessir." The officer said back. "The area is covered with debris from the engagement. I'm certain the remains from that shuttle are amongst it. Any bodies would have been vaporized."
"Have you located the rebels?"
"No sir, but we are still searching." The officer replied. "Three X-Wings were intercepted and shot down. The settlement seems to have been deserted before we arrived."
"Not good enough, Lieutenant." Admiral Ozzel growled. "I want all of those rebels found and exterminated before Lord Vader returns. I am preparing to send down two more companies, and I will take my own shuttle down and personally see to it." He smirked. "I want to see the final resting place of that traitor and his band of mutineers."
"Yes sir." The Stormtrooper officer saluted, and the holoscreen went dark. Ozzel turned to his two subordinates.
"Needa, Piett…I will be going planetside for a while. Keep The Executor in stationary orbit.
"Yessir." Captain Needa saluted.
"Captain Piett, I want you to monitor all communications channels. If you so much as hear a peep about rebels in this system, dispatch all available fighters and frigates to eliminate them at once."
"Yes sir, Admiral." Firmus said. Ozzel stepped over to Piett and leaned in close.
"You know Tharcourt…you've known him for…how long?"
"About two decades, sir." Firmus answered.
"Twenty years…yes." Ozzel thought out loud. "It's nearly a fact that he is dead. He must be. Tell me, do you believe so?" Piett pursed his lips. Drakken had plotted desertion. He had committed treason. Still, there was something in Firmus that wanted to give his old friend a sporting chance, one last favor after everything they had been through together. He cocked his head.
"Sir, from the sound of it, their ship was destroyed." He advised. "Nobody could have lived through that…" Firmus scoffed. "Notwithstanding admiral, knowing Commander Tharcourt as I do, if he were still alive after that fight, he would no doubt be attempting an attack on this vessel as we speak." He facetiously looked about the bridge with his eyes. "Hm. Does not seem the case, so I would wager he is long dead, sir."
"Good…yes…excellent…" Ozzel muttered to himself. "I will inform Lord Vader that Tharcourt is no more, then I will go down to that miserable dustball and make sure our troopers find those blasted rebels!" Piett gave a small smile. "You don't forget to tell me should anything arise."
"I would be remiss, sir."
"Very well. I'm off." Ozzel stated, and walked toward the hatch of the bridge. Firmus watched his commanding officer leave with a slight, satisfied expression. Drakken was dead. Well, maybe not medically dead, but he and his surviving men were at least officially dead, and Piett was secretly happy it was the latter.
…...
"What position is Executor in?" Tharcourt asked Ekks in the cockpit of the shuttle. The commander was laying back in the co-pilot's chair, a stoical expression on his face.
"Still in orbit over the planet, Boss." After disabling the transponder and engaging the shuttle's cloaking device, the crafty Corellian had piloted The Huntsman around to the other side of the small world. He'd then flown out three hundred kilometers, to where a small moon, perhaps some errant meteoroid that had been captured by the planet's gravaity epochs ago, shielded them from view of the Imperial fleet.
"Alright. We'll wait for our target of opportunity." Drakken muttered, and lit a cigarra. He propped his feet upon the console. Ekks looked sidelong at him.
"Hey Boss."
"Yeah, Ekks?" Tharcourt returned, his eyes closed.
"You said I could have The Huntsman when we cut and run, right?" Ekks asked.
"Guess I made that covenant with you, so yeah."
"Well Bossman…could you, and I mean this in the kindest way possible…get your boots off of my controls." Tharcourt opened his left eye, and glanced over at the roguish pilot. The side of his lips turned up, and Drakken's head bobbed with a tired scoff.
"Sure, captain." He returned, and swung his feet off the panel. They were silent a few moments. "So, what's your plans now…after this is all over?"
"Same as before." Ekks explicated. "Think I'll make a few connections and set up somewhere on my own. I'm off Coreallia, got a ship, blasters…bunch of credits. I'm a free man now, Boss." He nodded softly, and looked back toward the bay. "Gonna have to find me a first mate now."
"Sorry Ekks…" Drakken said. "I never wanted…If I could…"
"Don't say it." Ekks interrupted. "You're here, right now. So am I. We gotta focus on what we're gonna do from here on out." He heard a click and looked over to see Tharcourt flicking a blaster in a spin over and over again.
"Yeah…" The commander growled. "…like putting a bolt…through that kriffin' monster's head…" Ekks sighed.
"No Boss…like you jettin' off with that sweet gal back there that worships the stars that shine on ya." He corrected him. "Dank Farrik…you still plan on goin' through with it."
"Yeah, I do." Drakken stated. "I'm gonna kill Vader, then one of these days, if I ever run across the head of the Rebels…what's her name, that senator woman…Mothma…" He huffed. "I'll kill her too. Her and that Skywalker. I'd kill the Emperor too. All those crickin' despots' got enough people killed. I say they've earned it. Maybe then there will be peace in the galaxy."
"What, if you murdercate the heads of the Empire and the rebels?" Ekks asked incredulously. Drakken scoffed again.
"No…" He said bitterly. "Man'd have to kill everyone in power to do that. Nobody's free if somebody's telling them what to do." He looked at his blaster and shook his head in disgust. The SE14r went back into its holster. "Guess I don't have enough munitions for that, do I?" The pilot stared at him in silence a few seconds.
"Boss…" He finally spoke. "There's times when you worry me. You and Thorne got a future. Don't go trying to get yourself killed. Man like you's probably gonna buy it in anyway one day. Don't try to rush it." Tharcourt gave a short, ironic chuckle at his own ineptitude at anything in life that didn't involve death.
"Maybe your right." He said. "I still gotta do this."
"I know." The pilot returned. "They drew blood on you. You gotta make it right."
"Mm." Drakken agreed solemnly. "Then I'm taking my leave. I think I owe Freya a date.
In the back of the shuttle, Freya sat in the floor at the head of the bacta tank, her knees drawn up to her chest. She felt tired, weary, and just wanted to go somewhere, anywhere. Nearby, Gallen was laying on one of the benches. His helmet sat on the deck beside him, and he had his hands behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling. Even in a galaxy where interplanetary travel was only an inconvenience of a few hours or a day or two, Saleucami seemed ages away. Even this soon, to the marksman, so did Imperial service.
"Man…know what blows?" He commented. Freya and Felian looked up. "We ain't gonna see regular square meals and hot beds for…tshh…who knows how long."
"Not like we saw them that much anyway." Rix grumbled. "I think I was used to it."
"Well…what blows for you, Sarge?" Gallen inquired. Felian grunted.
"Not this…" He began. "Now that I think about it, I did the same thing my old man did…for the same reasons, I suppose. If something blows, it's having to start over and do something else." Thorne sniffed.
"Know wot really blows?" She joined in unenthusiastically. "Here we are, free o' it all…finally…and Dall idn't 'ere. Nor is Lago, or Mets an' Coleth." She shook her head.
"Yeahhh…that sucks too." Gallen sighed. Freya reached into a box and rummaged through the contents, finally pulling out a bottle of liquor. She found a tin cup and poured some of the greenish liquid into the vessel. Corking the bottle, she rolled it across the deck, and Felian stopped it with his boot. He took up the liquor and poured a dram into his own mess cup, and Reeso sat up and did the same. Freya held hers up. She cast a glance at the sheeted form on the floor and sniffed again.
"A toast, lads…" She said softly. "A toast t' the ones 'ere t'day. A toast to the ones that we lost on th' way."
"To our brothers." Gallen agreed.
"To our team." Felian stated. They raised up their cups and drained them. The passenger compartment was quiet for a few moments, then the marksman spoke up again.
"He really plans on going back, don't he?" He asked. "He's gonna try to ice Lord Vader." Thorne stared blankly into her empty cup.
"I think he has tae, Gallen." She said. "Drakken lives, dies an' bloody kills fer the people he loves. That evil ol' wizard killed some o' our clan. Cannae say I'm gonna try an talk him out of it."
"Can he even be killed?" Felian questioned. Thorne looked up. It was an odd question for the usually rational and tactical-minded soldier to ask. Still, it was a valid query, and one she herself had been pondering on.
"E dinnaken…" She mumbled. "I don't know, lads. He's got magic…that awful feckin' laser sword a' his…he can read minds, an' he's totally evil in and out. More like a specter he is."
"Where you think a guy or…thing like that comes from?" Reeso asked.
"If there's a place bad people go, he pro'lly slithered outta there." Freya grumbled. "Or all them Jead-Hai people was like that."
"Think he can do it?" Rix spoke. Freya's mouth twitched. She looked toward the hatch to the cockpit, where Drakken had been waiting like some coiled-up spring for the last hour.
"Wot? Kill an evil ghost?" She returned. She smiled a little, sadly, tiredly. "Aye. If anybody can do that, it's him." The bay was silent a moment.
"Music?" Gallen asked with a sigh.
"Yes please…" Freya returned. Gallen plugged his device into the aux port on the bulkhead and selected something on the small electronic pad. A song began to play;
He's a stranger to some and a vision to none…he can never get enough, get enough of the world
For a fortune, he'd quit, but it's hard to admit how it ends and begins
On his face is a map of the world
A map of the world
On his face is a map of the world
A map of the world… Freya bobbed her head to the melancholic lyrics a few times.
"Aye…" She breathed. "…ye always know th' right tunes for the occasion, me mate…"
From yesterday, it's coming, from yesterday, the fear
From yesterday, it calls him…but he doesn't want to read the message here
In the cockpit, Ekks glanced over at Tharcourt. The man was laying back in the co-pilot's chair, the seat fully reclined, and his eyes were closed. The Corellian would have wagered he was asleep, save for the fact that Drakken's right leg was bouncing up and down. Ekks could only imagine what was going on in The Boss' mind. Anger…apprehension…maybe even a tinge of fear for what he was about to do. There was no doubt too that the battle-born man was strategizing and plotting in his mind through it all. Ekks knew himself well enough to know that he was nowhere near daring enough to pull off something like Tharcourt had in mind. The instrument panel pinged, and Drakken opened an eye.
"Sitrep?" He spoke.
"Hm. There's a lot of traffic moving between The Executor and that planet." Ekks said. "Quite a bit of ship-to-ship too. No clue what they're doing." Tharcourt closed his eyes again and nestled into the chair.
"Deploying troops on the ground…" He described. "…maybe walkers. Definitely squads of fighters. They're combing the world…probing…searching for those rebels." Drakken sighed. "My old buddy Veers is probably down there right now, coordinating the search-and-destroy op. Remember when the last time we reprovisioned was?"
"The destroyer?"
"The same."
"Wasn't that a few weeks back?" Ekks asked. He was met with a finger pointing toward him lazily.
"Exactly. Since Ozzel's going nowhere till he murders every one of those rebels, they're taking the time to resupply the ship. Be at it for the next two rotations."
"Damn Boss…you got this stuff worked out, don't you?"
"Don't you?" Tharcourt replied. "Lots of shuttles coming and going right now. Maybe you could steal one of them's identity."
"I thought about that." The pilot sighed. "We're going through with this…"
"Having second thoughts?" Tharcourt asked quietly.
"Third and fourth…" Ekks answered. "…but I'm still gonna do it." He started working at the console. "What do you want us to do again…when we get aboard?" Drakken pressed the PA button.
"Freya? Could you come up here a minute?" In a few short moments, Thorne was standing in the cockpit.
"Aye, melove?" She greeted. "We goin' in?" Drakken let the seat back up. He took her by the hand.
"Listen…when we get aboard, I want you to take the crew in…you bring a regulation uniform?"
"Aye…I brought it. Didnae think I'd need it."
"Put it on. Have everybody clean up as good as they can. Take them down the hall from our old barracks to the armory. Load up a crate of E-11's. I'm gonna split them with Ekks." He glanced over at the man. "I owe him for getting his first mate killed."
"You didn't…" Ekks protested, but Drakken interjected.
"And we all have to have credits to eat on." He stated. "Anyone asks, you're bringing stands of arms down to the planet on Veer's orders. If your security clearance codes don't work, if they've already cancelled us out, get back to the shuttle." Freya nodded.
"I can do that, love." She said softly. She smiled a little and breathed a sarcastic laugh. "One meur of air big ol' impossible missions an' we're done." Her smile dropped, and she leaned in and kissed Drakken on the forehead before fixing him with a stern gaze. "This is the last one. Isn't it, darlin'?" He nodded obediently.
"This is the last job…anywhere near the Empire." He said. "Couple more hours, we're gone. Hopefully, Vader will be too."
"An' ye promised me, Drakken…if it looks t' dangerous, if'n ye cannae get close, or ye get th' weest bad feelins aboot it, ye feck off an' get yer arse back a' the ship, ye hear me?" He stammered a moment. "Do ye hear me, Drakken Tharcourt?!"
"I…I swear it, Freya." He stated.
"Got it." Ekks announced. "We're now Shuttle Nova II. Want me to take us in?" Drakken pulled Freya in and kissed her deeply on the lips.
"Get in costume, sweetheart. Let's get this over with." He looked at Ekks. "Can our jamming equipment work on something that big?"
"Dunno, Boss…I never tried it. Executor's got some pretty powerful comms arrays."
"Well, when I give you the green light, you hit the jammers. I space Vader and the command crew and hop back onboard, I want to blast off as fast and quiet as possible. I sure as Hell don't want every Imperial ship in the fleet shooting at us."
"I'll do what I can." Ekks nodded. He pat the console. "Hear that, girl? You get to show us what you can really do."
"Alright…" Drakken said, then motioned toward the windscreen. "Take us in." From the back, the music swelled as the song entered its final, emotional refrain:
From yesterday, it's coming, from yesterday, the fear!
From yesterday, it calls him, but he doesn't want to read the message here!
From yesterday…From yesterday…From yesterday, the fear
From yesterday…From yesterday
But he doesn't want to read the message
But he doesn't want to read the message
But he doesn't want to read the message here…
On the bridge of The Executor, Captain Piett sat by a communications terminal. On either side of him, two midshipmen monitored all of the incoming and outgoing ships, and in front of Firmus, a text readout of all communications and a list of all ship designations and names in the area scrolled up the screen. He watched them with very little enthusiasm or interest. Still, it had been placed in his hands to make sure that everything was running smoothly during not only the combat deployment operation, but the ongoing resupply of the vessel. He read the names of the shuttles and supply ships leaving and entering the space around the Super Star Destroyer;
Shuttle Determination Supply Incoming
Vociferous Troop Carrier Outgoing
Shuttle Nova II Supply Outgoing
TIE S-571439-R Recon Incoming
ISF Black Dawn Supply Outgoing
Shuttle Nova II Supply Incoming…
The last one caught his eye. The supply shuttle Nova II had recently left The Executor after fulfilling a supply run of mixed cargo. Now it was requesting permission to use the main hangar for docking. Firmus read over the communications between the shuttle pilot and the midshipman to his right. Clearance codes checked out. The ship had sent the correct transponder code as well, but had sent it manually instead of automatically. Piett quickly referenced the Nova II on the database of Imperial vessels, and his eyes widened for a moment. It was a Lambda T4-a class. The same as…
"You wouldn't…" Piett muttered.
"Sir?" The communications officer to his left spoke.
"Nothing, midshipman." Firmus replied. His screen showed that the shuttle was cleared to dock, and was on approach. "Monitor these ships. I have to see to something." He ordered.
"Yes sir." Piett stood and walked toward the hatch.
Zala sat at her desk, her head resting on a hand as she jadedly typed at her terminal with the other. On the screen was the file she had been keeping on Drakken for the last three years. Everything she had gathered…his past, his exploits, his day-to-day life, everything she loved about him. News had just been delivered to her desk that he and his team had been killed for their treachery, and it was now her duty to close the file on the man she'd grown so close to.
Of course she knew that Drakken wasn't dead. There was no way. If he had truly been killed, there would be no garrison left on The Executor. He had gotten away as he had planned, and it was up to her to type that one word on his personnel file that would ensure his flight. She paused a moment, her heart lingering on the finality of the moment. After everything they had been through, it almost felt like Zala was closing a chapter on her life that she wasn't ready to let go of. She let out a gentle sigh, and finally typed a single word at the end of the report: Deceased
"Gonna miss you, sweetie…" She whispered, low enough that the two ISB junior officers in the room couldn't overhear. Then Zala discreetly plugged another data disc into her computer. With a couple keystrokes, she had made an exact duplica of the original file. With a small smile, Veruna retrieved the disc and secreted it into a bag. Every surveillance recording, every photograph was there, along with psych reports, his detailed biography and reports from his missions. At least she would have something to remember him by.
Zala switched her terminal to feeds from the interior of the vessel. With the resupply and troop deployment going on, smaller ships were coming and going at regular intervals. To keep herself from tearing up, Zala focused on the activity inside the hangar. Some Gozanti-Class ship was cruising out of the bay, leaving behind tonnes of supplies that crewmen were busily sorting and packing onto small hover-carts. A smaller shuttle, a Lambda-Class, drifted into the hangar and sat down. Veruna sighed again as the ship's forward ramp began to lower. So many times, she'd seen a shuttle like that arrive…after Tharcourt's missions, she'd watch through the monitor as he stepped off his shuttle, a hero fresh from the fight. Just like he was now…
Wait…what?! Zala felt like smacking herself to see if she were seeing things. She zoomed in. No…her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. Drakken was not only alive, he was back. For whatever reason, he hadn't run away. He returned to the ship, and now, wearing full battle armor, he was heading for the turbolifts.
"Ohhhh…crick me…" Zala gasped.
"Ma'am?" One of the aides asked. Veruna ran a hand through her black and pink hair.
"Oh…oh sorry, Perdenen…" She said, trying to keep her voice at a reasonable pitch and volume. "I just…forgot to take a report up to the bridge. I'll like, you know, run it up before Admiral Ozzel comes down complaining." She stood and took a random blank disc from her desktop before sprinting out of the office. Agent Perdenen looked over at Agent Darness, the two men shrugged and went back to their work.
Drakken strode down the corridor, one thing on his mind. Well, there were two things occupying his psyche at the moment. One was that no matter what, he was going to find a way to make it back to the ship…to Freya. The other was that no matter what, he was going to murder the kriffing Hell out of Lord Vader. Tharcourt stepped into a turbolift. A pair of stormtroopers started to enter, but he silently sent them away with a dismissive point of a finger.
The door closed, and Drakken drew his twin SE-14r blasters and checked them. Full power, full gas cartridges. Check. Holstering the weapons, he felt the two thermal detonators, the flashbang and the smoke charge on his belt. Check. Drakken carefully popped the safety pins off of each of them, then ran his hand back along his utility belt to ensure that his vibroknife was still there. It was. So were the twin EC-17 holdout blasters tucked into his tall boots. Now all that was left was to make it to the bridge and kill everything there except Firmus. He stepped off of the turbolift, and almost ran headfirst into the man he was just thinking about.
"Firmus!" Drakken exclaimed. Piett jumped back, his hand hovering over the small blaster on his belt.
"Drakken…" The captain gasped. "The Void are you doing, old man?!" Tharcourt and his old friend stared at each other for a tense moment, both of them fingering the grips of their blasters, then Firmus shoved Drakken back into the elevator, stepped in with him and hit the button to close the hatch. "Why did you come back?! Are you insane?!" Drakken huffed and came clean.
"Firmus…I came back to put a stop to this. All of it. The lies, the killing of civilians, the treason up top." He growled. Piett frowned.
"Oh? Oh really? And just how did you plan on doing that?"
"I am going to go to the bridge, and I'm going to shoot Vader in the face!" Tharcourt shouted. Piett seemed unfazed.
"Yes…you have gone mad." He grumbled. "That is the most asinine, absurd and half-baked plan you have ever concocted, old man!" Tharcourt started to push his way past the shorter man, but Firmus held his ground. "For one, you're going to get killed, after I did everything I could to make sure you could get away. Secondly, Lord Vader isn't even on this bloody ship!" At that, Drakken seemed to deflate in disappointment.
"What?!"
"Lord Vader is on Mustafar. Now get off of this ship if you can." Piett advised.
"Void damn it…" Drakken growled. "Then I'm gonna go murder that fat nerf herder Ozzel." Firmus crossed his arms over his chest.
"He is planetside, overseeing the hunt for the rebels…and your carcass, Drakken."
"Crink me sideways…" Tharcourt sighed. He looked at his hands. "So that's…that's it. Nothing…I can do nothing…" He felt a hand on his shoulder.
"You can make good your own deportment, Drakken." Firmus stated. "I saw nothing, but I can only do so much. You'd best go while you can." Drakken felt all of the wrath melting away from him. He saw the tired and careworn look on his old friend's face. Piett looked so much older than when they were young officers, and Drakken wondered how much he himself had been changed by it all.
"Thank you, Firmus…" He said softly. "For everything." Piett managed a small smile. "Guess you win…"
"Never wanted it to be like this, my friend." He replied. "Go. Take care of Freya…or rather…let her take care of you. You need it." He held out a hand, and Drakken took it in a firm handshake.
"It's been an honor, Firmus." Tharcourt stated. "Goodbye…brother." Piett's lips flicked up for a moment.
"Honor returned." He said. "So long Drakken." With that, Captain Piett opened the turbolift and stepped out. He watched as Drakken hit a button and the door slid shut again, then he turned to the corridor, his face fixed with a look of quiet determination. This war had cost so much already. Now it had cost him his most valued subordinate, a great warrior and his most trusted friend. In that moment, Firmus Piett vowed that he would see the Rebels destroyed, crushed utterly…even if it cost him his life.
Drakken leaned against the wall of the turbolift as it moved back down into the ship. It was over. There would be no last hurrah, no retaliatory strike, no catharsis for everything that had happened, and he was beginning to accept that fact. They would disappear…just leave, and abdicate their part in the senseless conflict, run from the war to whatever places and ends. At least Freya was waiting for him. They could finally make the life together he had promised her. The tubolift door opened, and he absentmindedly started to step out when a diminutive figure in a white tunic rushed in.
"Ohmystars Drakken, you idiot…what are you doing?!" Zala gasped, closing the door to give them some privacy.
"I've been getting that a lot lately…" He muttered. "Hey kitten…" Veruna slapped his arm.
"Like, don't you 'hey kitten' me. You tryin' to get yourself killed? Like why did you come back?"
"I came back to kill Vader." He said.
"What?! Are you totally out of your head, babe?!" She exclaimed. "You can't kill Vader…like…I don't think you literally could! You gotta jet man…like right now…"
"I know." He sighed. "I came to kill him…to try to stop the war. I think I'm just gonna be happy with it being over for me and Freya now." Her expression softened, and Zala grabbed him by the front of his cuirass and buried her face in his chest.
"Then you're lucky, Drak…" She breathed. "Promise me you'll be okay…you and Freya."
"I will." He answered. "You gonna be okay, Zala?" She scoffed.
"Guess I gotta be." She pouted. "Right?" Zala put her head back on his chest. "I'll be okay, sweetie…I'm still kinda mad at you though…"
"Why?" He asked. Zala looked up at him with tears in her red-brown eyes.
"Cause now I gotta learn how to live without you." She said. Drakken put an arm around her, and Zala stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him deeply on the lips. "Don't tell Freya…or do, I don't care. I love you, Drakken." He smiled and kissed the top of her head.
"Love you, kitten." He returned.
"Now like, get the crick outta here." She ordered. "But you gotta hit me."
"What?!"
"Yeah, I gotta tell them I tried to stop you, and you decked me. So like, you gotta give me a love tap or two or they won't buy it."
"I'm not hitting you." Tharcourt stated.
"You wanna get me killed?"
"No."
"Vader already thinks I was helping you. Hit me." Drakken drew back. His fist shook, and he lowered his hand.
"I can't…" He whispered. Zala huffed.
"Drakken, you kriffing wuss…you thrash me, or I swear to the Void I'll like never forgive you!" He shook his head frustratedly. There was a loud crack, and Zala fell back against the wall of the turbolift, clutching her eye. He immediately brushed some of the pink hair off of her face.
"You okay?" He asked. She smiled.
"Y…yeah…" She said softly. He kissed her eye, which was already starting to swell. "Get out of here, sweetie."
"See you around, kitten." He said. She smirked and held up her free hand in a claw.
"Rawr." She sounded. Drakken left the turbolift, and Zala slumped to the floor. She rubbed her face. "Ow…Ouch…nngh, I so deserved that."
Tharcourt walked quickly to the hangar, passing by crewmen moving cargo, as well as groups of stormtroopers and their officers, soldiers on their way to their own ships. He blended in with the mass of men, and the presence of an Imperial Navy officer in armor attracted no attention amid the backdrop of a ship during a battle. He spied The Huntsman where he had left the shuttle in the massive hangar, and he jogged over. His hopes were answered when Freya met him at the ramp. She gave him a warm smile, and he hopped up onto the platform.
Drakken turned and took one last look at the bay of the Imperial Super Star Destroyer…his home, his duty, and what had been the sum of who he had been for so long. Not just the ship, but the service it represented. Imperial service. It was here that he had found a home. It was in the Imperial military that he had learned much of what he knew, and where he had met so many good people. It was here that he had met the amazing red-haired woman who now held out her hand to him from the top of the ramp. He took her hand in his, and stepped up into the ship.
"Well, ye find wot ye were lookin' fer, love?" She asked. Drakken raised her hand up to his face and kissed it.
"No." He answered. "I found something else." Her lips curled down into a knowing smirk.
"Oh? Whassat now?" She inquired. He gave her a smile in return.
"Tomorrow." He stated. Gallen appeared beside her and jammed a thumb toward the inside of the shuttle.
"Oh yeah? Well we found those E-11's…and a few more things I don't think the Navy'd be too happy about us taking." Tharcourt's smile turned into a grin.
"Oh yeah?" He shot back. "Well I guess they can just blow it out an airlock then, can't they, Reeso?"
"You…commander." Someone called. Drakken looked down the ramp to see a Navy captain, two black-helmeted Navy Troopers standing behind him. "I hope you were not attempting to leave without a manifest inspection." Drakken looked at Freya and they both shrugged.
"Nah…I wouldn't want to do that." He returned. Drakken put his commlink to his lips. "Ekks…A little jamming would be nice right now." He whispered.
"Working on it, Boss."
"What is your cargo and destination?" The captain asked.
"I have a load of mixed equipment for the Five-Oh-First down there." Tharcourt explained, pointing downward. "And we're in a bit of a hurry. General Veers told me to get this stuff there ASAP." The Imperial deck officer narrowed his eyes.
"What's your name and operating number?"
"What's my na…" Drakken repeated, sounding flustered. He looked at Freya. "You hear that? The nerve of…" He looked back at the captain. "I'm Commander Yomomma The Hutt. You never heard of me?!" The captain raised an eyebrow.
"Should I have?" He muttered. "I need to see some identification. Are you a Naval officer, Commander Hutt?"
"Boss…" Ekks' voice whispered over the commlink. "Boss, I'm firing up the engines, and I think all comms are jammed for the hangar…right about…now." Drakken grinned as static cut in over the small communicator.
"Commander, I asked you a question." The captain pressed. "Are you Navy or not?"
"Negative, captain." Drakken spoke. "I…am a meat popsicle." He took a furtive step back. "And I got places to be and people to kill, so you have a good day now, you hear?" With that, he hit the ramp access button, and the platform began to ascend.
"Halt!" The captain ordered. "Corporal, stop that ship!" The two Navy Troopers raised their blasters and began to fire, but with the Shuttle's thick armor and upgraded shields, they had might as well been throwing rocks. The captain frantically tried to put out a call over his commlink. "Control! Control! Lock down the hangar! Control, do you copy?!" He was greeted by silence over the net.
"Ekks, get us outta here!" Drakken called, joining the Corellian in the cockpit as The Huntsman passed through the energy barrier and into the space outside the destroyer. He dropped into the co-pilot's chair.
"You got it, Bossman."
"Control, we have a security breach! Unauthorized ship leaving the docking bay!" The deck officer yelled into his commlink. He grabbed a device off of the Navy Trooper to his right and began to scream into it. "Engage tractor beams! Fire on that shuttle! Control?!" He was in a panic. Certain that a group of rebels had just boarded the flagship of the Imperial fleet and made off with who knows what, the captain threw the commlink at the void in the hangar floor and turned to the control tower high up on the wall of the room. "We've just been robbed by Yomamma The Hutt!"
The song "From Yesterday" by 30 Seconds to Mars is such a fitting song for Drakken, I think. He's been through so much in life, and it's a wonder he's kept it together this long. I have no doubt that if Vader were aboard the ship, Tharcourt would have put up one Hell of a fight before he went down. And Veruna...oh my God. The selfish, shallow and flighty Zala actually cares about him that much. She loves him so much, and his leaving broke her heart, and I think that much could be felt through their final goodbye. Drakken and Firmus' parting was painful as well. They were truly brothers, and yeah, I took some artistic liberties of making his loss of his best friend the catalyst that made him make the decisions he did that ultimately lead to his death in Return of the Jedi.
At least there was a little comedy at the end of the chapter with the "Yomomma The Hutt" bit. Hope that brought a smile to some faces out there.
I'll have the next chapter up soon, so no worries. See you all then. -Drake