"Are you familiar with formal escort procedures?" Mara asked TKR 330. They stood near the still-raised exit ramp; his troopers were arranged around them loosely, holding their standard-issue E-11s with comfortable confidence.
The senior stormtrooper nodded once. "Of course, ma'am," he confirmed. "We'd hardly be the 501st if we weren't. Escort formation, troopers," he ordered, waving the collection of troopers into a properly performative—though also effective—escort formation. Mara nodded once and reached out to press the button that depressed the yacht's ramp, which unsealed with a pop and started its slow descent.
Mara's order to proceed down the ramp and into the World Devastator's hangar to greet the Imperials assembled there was preempted by a whistle and series of beeps. Glaring at Artoo, who was himself in unhappy Imperial livery, she fetched her translation datapad from one of the inconspicuous pockets sewn into her ornate green ballgown.
I WILL BE ACCOMPANYING YOU.
"We're going into the midst of a few hundred anxious and paranoid Imperials," she pointed out. "It's not going to be safe out there."
The droid blatted at her rudely. His translated words scrolled across her datapad. IT CANNOT BE MORE DANGEROUS THAN INFILTRATING THE DEATH STAR WHILE RELYING ON THREEPIO TO MAINTAIN OUR COVER. I WILL BE FINE. I CAN ACCESS THE STATION'S COMPUTERS WHILE YOU INTERROGATE THE IMPERIALS.
"If anything happens to you, your master is going to be very angry with me," she said flatly.
Artoo's return whistle was both sarcastic and affectionate. DO NOT WORRY, MISTRESS JADE. I WILL NOT TELL ANYONE THAT YOU LIKE ME. IT REMAINS OUR SECRET.
And with that, Artoo put all three of his wheels down on the deck and proceeded to roll forwards onto the ramp. It descended obediently for him. Shaking her head with annoyance—and perhaps a barest hint of embarrassment—she and the stormtroopers proceeded down. She held her head up high—her elaborate hairstyle had to be held in a certain posture to achieve the full effect, and could probably support a model Star Destroyer if she'd had one to hand—and entered the hangar.
An Imperial in a Lieutenant's uniform was there to greet her, holding what appeared to be a manifest datapad, accompanied by a pair of DT-style battle droids. He glanced at her, trying to move in her direction to perform all the proper landing checks, but the crowd of people haranguing him were making it very difficult.
"Lieutenant, where are we going?"
"When will the coronation begin? Will there still be a rehearsal dinner tonight?"
"Where is Emperor-Regent Halmere? I was told he would greet us personally."
Mara cleared her throat, planting her feet on the ground and placing her hands on her waist. She adopted her finest 'annoyed noble' expression and lifted an eyebrow mockingly. "I am Countess Claria," she said imperiously, demanding the Lieutenant's attention.
The young officer looked horribly out of his depth, but her cutting words had momentarily stilled the crowd. "Countess Claria, your invitation please?" he asked, coming towards her. He eyed the stormtroopers accompanying her with wariness—there were other stormtroopers, also guarding various dignitaries, but only a few.
She plucked a datapad out of her clutch and handed it to him slowly, with ceremony. "You'll find everything is in order," she declared, as if daring him to determine otherwise. She still didn't feel any particular imminent danger, and if this crowd was here to spring a trap upon whoever used the invitation that Sarreti had provided, they were not going to be very good at it. Still, her concealed lightsaber was close to hand.
The Lieutenant took the invitation and scanned it with his datapad. It beeped in response, processing.
Mara took the time to take another look at the crowd. She only recognized one man, resplendent in tasteful platinum robes of what were probably armorweave, accented by subtle gemstones that were certainly stolen: Gregor Raquoran, a high-ranking bureaucrat in the Imperial Remnant. Ironically, she did not know him because of her time as Emperor's Hand—he was not nearly that important—but because of her time in the Smugglers' Alliance. Raquoran was responsible for most of the Remnant's import-export policies and one of the Empire's most powerful businessmen.
"Your invitation is in order, Countess," the Lieutenant said, handing the datapad back. "Welcome aboard Silencer Station."
"Then maybe now you can answer some of our questions?" asked one of the crowd.
The Lieutenant glanced back towards the rear of the hangar. The DT-model battle droids were in a neat row against the back wall… which conveniently also placed them near to all the exits. It was a glance not lost on the array of Very Important People who suddenly found themselves in a hangar that doubled as a de-facto prison. "I'll put another request in for the Regent to come see you," he promised, his tone as flattering as possible. "It shan't be that much longer."
"It had better bloody not be," grumbled a man wearing an ISB captain's uniform.
Mara waved a subtle charm-sign at her stormtrooper escort, who had maintained a perfect defensive box around her. She turned ninety degrees—the stormtroopers turned with her—and strode imperiously in the direction of the largest cluster of security she saw. Sure enough, at the center of it were multiple influential people she recognized immediately. Dynamic Automata and Galentro Heavy Arms were the two most important corporations left in the Empire; Galentro managed the Jaemus Shipyards, which were probably the only significant shipyard left in Imperial territory.
Elta Besk and Wyrn Otro each owned one of them, and the style they had both dressed could charitably be called 'military chic'. Each was clad in rich tunics fronted with dazzling decorations and frogged with enough gold braid to make a Hutt turn its stomach. By the glares between the two each had clearly meant to upstage the other, but neither was sure who had won the contest.
Mara hadn't been sure who she would find. But these two… she could use them. Trusting instincts which had little to do with the Force and everything to do with the years of experience she'd had manipulating people as the Emperor's Hand, she continued to glide in their direction.
Their security watched her warily as she approached, but in her dress Mara was not a particularly imposing figure, whatever her guard suggested. "Are all these… battle droids… Dynamic's work?" she asked Elta Besk.
Besk was a middle-aged woman with raven hair and a perpetually dismissive expression, and Mara was pleased to see that expression narrow into an annoyed frown. "Our droids are used on the front lines," Besk replied sourly, "not placed in locations to serve purely ceremonial purposes." She examined Mara's stormtroopers, then Mara herself. "And you are?"
"Oh I very much doubt they're ceremonial," Mara said. The reduced distance allowed her to lower her voice. Adopting a conspiratorial tone, she leaned in. "Or do you think that our 'guard' is merely ceremonial?" She straightened, offering a smile she knew would be read as insincere. "Countess Claria, of the Imperial Aristocracy." Before Besk could reply, she turned towards the other of the two senior dignitaries. "Mastro Otro, are you at all concerned that Jaemus might no longer be needed with this facility so fantastically able?" She tilted her head. "Has the Dowager Empress already approached you to demand a renegotiation of your existing contracts, or is she waiting until after the coronation?"
The range of emotions that ran across Otro's face was spectacular. Anger at her impetuosity had turned to annoyance and curiosity, and now transformed to surprised concern.
"You seem to be remarkably well-informed, Countess. And even more bold," Besk said flatly.
Mara nodded. "I make an effort," she said. "You both should be concerned about the future prospects of your corporate assets. ISB and COMPNOR are attempting to centralize all power in their hands, and sooner or later they will come for you too."
"You are not a mere Countess," Otro finally got a word in. He and his security all clustered closer, forming a loose circle around the three of them. Mara's stormtroopers closed the box protectively, their E-11s held in both hands. "Who are you and how did you come to be here?"
Mara held her hand out to TKR 330. "Your unit patch, please."
As surprised and uncertain as someone with his experience got, TKR 330 fumbled with his armor for a moment. Then he produced a small rank insignia. Mara took it and placed it in Otro's hand.
The two magnates both looked at the patch of the 501st Stormtrooper Battalion. The Empire's finest. Vader's Fist.
"I am the Emperor's Hand," Mara said imperiously, bringing herself to her full height. "I am here to deliver you a warning. The hyperspace jump from Entralla was not planned. Elements here seek to seize control of the Empire for their own purposes. I will stop them… but the jump has left me without the support I expected. I am commanding you to help me save the Empire. Has your security been maintaining electronic surveillance?"
They gaped at her.
She smiled. "I can assure you… when this is over, your companies will be well-rewarded for their assistance. But only if I am successful. If I am not, this facility and everything it represents will go into full effect… with all the natural consequences for your businesses."
There was a brief pause.
"What do you need?" asked Besk.
"Everything," said Mara.
"We've been monitoring DT activity since we arrived," said Elta Besk's head of security, a slightly-heavyset middle-aged man who had clearly once served in the Imperial Army. When he had learned that Mara's stormtrooper guard was from the 501st he'd been clearly stunned; since then, he'd been significantly more compliant than he had been at first. "We've been intercepting the communications on their internal comms net ever since we decrypted it."
"Clearly, Imperial security is not what it used to be," Mara said contemptuously. "The Emperor would never have accepted these lapses."
"They started under Kaine," muttered Besk. "Things were never secure after he allowed aliens into the fleet. I swear, the number of security breaches we've discovered since has quadrupled at least."
"I put it on the overreliance on droids," objected Otro snidely.
"Droids are significantly more reliable than people. Ever since we started replacing our slaves with droids—"
"Enough," Mara snapped. Next to her, TKR 330 and his fellows all turned slightly and stomped a single foot in unison. The sound instantly brought the attention of everyone in the room back to Mara, eyes wide. "How the Empire came to be in this state is a question that will be answered after the current crisis. I can assure you that we will restore the Empire to its former state—and punishment for failures will be meted out with both justice and severity." She lowered her voice to a harsh, furious whisper. "Do not mistake my patience for leniency."
The Emperor's Hand commanded obedience by her very presence. Men and women such as these bent the knee when she demanded it.
"Our records of their communications," said Besk's security, handing her a datapad before Besk had given him the nod. She accepted it and immediately handed it to TKR 330.
"Your service to the Empire will be long remembered," said promised him in a tone that was both thankful and threatening.
He seemed positively thrilled. That had not been uncommon either, Mara remembered—the men and women truly loyal to the Empire had loved their time with the Emperor's Hand. Some of them had alarmed her with their singleminded devotion to the Empire—something horribly embarrassing in hindsight—but others had been just simple men and women, committed to a cause they (and Mara) had believed was just. Each of them had loved the Emperor, knowing he had brought peace and stability to the Empire after the rampant corruption and decay of the Republic, seemingly blind to the fact that the Empire had been run riot with corruption.
Of course, men and women like Besk and Otro were corrupt to the bone. Had the Empire not fallen, had Palpatine not died, the Emperor's Hand would never have worked with them. Sooner or later, she would have come for them, too.
So Palpatine could replace them with other people, just as corrupt but more loyal, Mara thought sourly. And send me off to the next sector, none the wiser about what would replace any power vacuum I left behind me.
"Do you have any idea where we are going?" she asked. "Any estimation about our destination?"
"Only speculation," said Otro. "In hyperspace I'm unable to access the HoloNet for more information."
"The most common belief is that we're going to Corellia," Besk said. "That the Emperor-Regent intends to demonstrate his power by subjugating their rebellion."
"Hopefully destroying their shipyards in the process," said Otro optimistically. "Less competition is always welcome."
Mara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Corellia's corrupt leaders provoked its rebellion, and the corrupt Rebels that have supplanted them will provoke another in turn. Eventually, the Empire will restore justice in Coronet, you can be assured." She turned towards the two business moguls, folding her arms behind her back. "The Emperor will remember your service."
"The Emperor is dead," Besk pointed out, frowning.
Mara turned towards her slowly, lifting her jaw. She kept her expression carefully still, then let a careful, subtle smirk curl the corner of her mouth. "The Emperor's Will lives on," she assured her, with a quiet, fervent passion. "I remain His Hand."
The vagueness of the statement was enough to leave not just him, but all the others in the room, looking visibly confused.
Let them puzzle over it for a while. By the time they decide how to interpret it, it'll be too late for them to do anything.
Then, feeling like she needed a shower, she turned her back and departed, the 501st escorting her in perfect formation.
The hangar remained busy. A lone Countess with a four-stormtrooper escort attracted attention, but not as much as she had when she had first arrived. In addition to Besk and Otro there were dozens, if not hundreds, of other dignitaries. There were no Moffs—presumably, they had all been redirected to Stormhawk before the hyperspace jump—but there were many civilian nobles, COMPNOR officials, high-ranking bureaucrats, and others. As fancy as Mara's dress and hairdo were, she was far from the most elaborately-dressed woman in attendance, and her stormtroopers were not unique. She swept across the hangar towards Teldin Imperator without interruption.
As she put the access codes into the console next to the ship's ramp, she heard a familiar whistle. "Yes, Artoo," she said. "I do believe it was productive. What about you?"
The droid's response had a familiar smugness to it.
"Good. Between us, maybe we'll have enough information to make a plan."
"Are you sure it was wise to reveal so much to them, ma'am?" asked TKR 330 as they walked up the ramp. "When we exit hyperspace, they'll surely research you and likely discover your identity."
"It was worth it," Mara said confidently. "It got us all their information about the World Devastator's internal security and without that we wouldn't have a chance to move about unnoticed. Eventually the deception will be discovered, but until then the Emperor's Hand can get far more from the Empire's loyal nobility than lowly Countess Claria could. Besides, by the time we exit hyperspace, there's a good chance we won't be hiding anymore, anyway."
"All their internal sensors are disabled?" Mara asked in astonishment. They were back aboard Teldin Imperator, away from the prying eyes of all the Imperials outside. Half of their stormtrooper detachment stood guard at the closed entry ramp, in perfect, intimidating formation, while Mara and the rest of the team discussed everything they had learned.
Artoo whooped in delighted agreement, then followed up with a complicated series of whistles, ending with a triumphant twirl.
"It looks like they've been disabled for several hours at least," Iella reported as she read from her translation datapad. Behind her, Kapp and TKR 330 stood with their arms crossed, like eerie mirrors of one another.
Mara was still struggling to process this information. "That is a serious system failure," she said with a shake of her head. "And it can't be a coincidence that it happened during the coronation. Someone sabotaged it."
Artoo whistled his agreement.
"Apparently, one of the reasons they've locked all their guests in the hangar is the DT-series droids have just begun a block by block search of the entire station," Iella reported. "The map we have from our contact is as out of date as we expected, but it effectively maps most of the interior sections. And it's not just a search—they're cutting off areas behind them to assure no escape. I think they're looking for someone."
"The same someone who sabotaged the station's interior sensors?" guessed Luke.
"Probably," mused Mara. She considered the situation carefully, thinking through all the possibilities. She looked at Luke, frowning thoughtfully. "Do you think something is wrong with the new emperor?"
"It would make sense," he agreed. "If there are any discontented elements within the Empire—and we know there are—he would be their main target. If someone attempted an assassination, that would explain why the coronation has been delayed… and if they escaped custody that would also explain why the search is being conducted."
"It doesn't explain how they managed to disable the station's interior sensors," Mara countered. "That's a serious security breach."
"After Poln Major and the threat to Corellia, maybe one of their security officers decided enough was enough," suggested Kapp. "Sabotaged the internal systems and went on the run."
"This isn't Rukh and Chimaera," Mara objected. "You can't sabotage internal systems like that by whipping out a vibroblade, or even a dozen data-spikes, and stabbing a computer. Even if you did manage to disable them, they ought to be easy to repair, or even self-repairing. Or the commands should be easy to circumvent."
"So he would have to be very senior," shrugged Kapp. "The head of internal security, maybe."
"If that is the case, it's possible we have a powerful ally somewhere aboard the station," Iella mused. "Someone who can manipulate the station's systems."
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Mara said, holding her hands up with a frown. "All we really know is that something has gone wrong. We already knew there were discontented elements in the Imperial hierarchy—that's how we got here, after all, and we haven't been arrested yet so its safe to say that Sarreti really is trying to help us. It's not a surprise to discover that there are others. But we don't know who they are or what else they can do."
Artoo blatted rudely, his dome spinning.
"He's right," Luke said. "We do know where they are, at least approximately." He brought up their internal maps of the station. The three-dimensional map was slowly filled with red. "Whoever they are, they aren't in any of the areas which have already been searched. Which means they have to be in one of the places that are still going to be searched." He rotated the map. "It looks like they're working closer to the center of the station. Somewhere in there is the person or people who sabotaged the station's security."
Mara pressed her lips together. It was a reasonable supposition. "Even if they are, we don't know who they are, or if they could help us." She sighed. "But… it is something to go on," she conceded. "Assuming that the station is able to transit hyperspace as effectively as Admiral Daala's forces have in recent months, we're probably only half a day out of Corellia at most. That gives us little time to act." She sat in the chair nearest to the holotable, staring at the map. "TKR 330, I believe I know what search pattern they're using, but I want you to confirm. Assume the droids are programmed with standard Imperial search tactics and predict for me what their priority is going to be. I want your best guesses in fifteen minutes."
TKR 330 saluted. "Ma'am," he agreed. "I'll confer with my officers and be back in ten."
"Dismissed," Mara said with a nod. As the stormtrooper turned on his heels and exited, boots clicking loudly over the floor, she went back to her examination. The search told her about more than just the pattern the droids were using… the pattern and pace also told her about how many droids they had available for the search.
"We have a chance," she said. "They must be devoting most of their manufacturing to developing space-based capabilities for the upcoming battle. They can't have too many DTs… either that, or the priority they've put on this search is very low, which I doubt." She pressed her lips together, thinking hard. Then she looked at Luke. "We need to decide if we're going to make a priority of trying to help whoever it is they're looking for, or trying to sabotage the station ourselves."
"I know," he agreed. "Whoever they're looking for might be the key to helping us disable the station's defenses."
"Or they may have already done everything they can and their command codes are locked out. They could be useless."
"I think Kapp was right before," Luke said. "They must be someone high-ranking, otherwise the internal security systems would already be working again. If we can help them, my gut tells me that they can help us."
That was that, then. Because while Mara's brain said they should use this opportunity to try to find and disable the station's power generator, or its shields… her gut agreed with Luke's. She did not say that out loud, though. Instead, she looked at Tyria and Kirana Ti. "What about you two?"
The other two Jedi on this mission looked awkwardly at one another. Tyria shrugged. "I don't know."
Kirana Ti looked more confident. "Rescue."
Mara and Luke shared a look. He already knew she agreed, but she nodded performatively, offering a visual confirmation for the sake of the others. "Then we should try to rescue them," Luke said.
"I'll start formulating a plan," Mara agreed. "I'll take ten minutes to think about it and come back."
"We're going to need to split up."
They were still trying to keep their relationship a secret—especially from the Empire—so Luke and Mara had not shared a room on the trip in from the Unknown Regions. Now, though, they gathered alone together with Artoo in Luke's room.
From Luke's expression, he wasn't a fan of splitting up. Mara understood that, as she didn't much like the idea herself. But given what she had already set in motion their options were limited.
"I'll make a distraction," Mara said. "With Iella, Tyria, and the 501st. You, Kirana Ti, and Kapp's commandos should take advantage of that to slip into the interior of the World Devastator. Between me drawing their forces away, and you searching, we should be able to find whoever it is the New Order is searching for. From there…" she shrugged. "We'll just have to figure it out from there."
"Not much of a plan really," Luke sighed.
"Does it feel wrong?"
"Everything about this feels wrong," Luke replied, shaking his head. "But not the way you mean. There's nothing in my instincts that says this plan won't work, and when I try to imagine another option I get that knotted feeling in my stomach."
Mara knew the one.
"We just have to let the Force guide us. I don't particularly like it, but it does make sense—"
She slipped her hand into his. Gently she drew him to turn to look back at her, then she rose up to kiss him with slow, longing passion. His arms wrapped around her as he relaxed into the kiss, slowly coming to hold her snugly against him. It didn't linger for long—they did not have the luxury of time—but when it broke, she found him smiling down at her, with that impossibly affectionate, adoring expression that both terrified her and inexorably lured her to him.
"We haven't had much time to talk about it," he murmured.
"We haven't," Mara agreed. "But what is there to talk about? We'll save the galaxy and then we'll figure it out." We always figure it out. Together.
Luke laughed softly. She felt through the Force his calm agreement. Maybe another couple might have panicked at an unexpected pregnancy, especially one during a crisis such as this. Mara wanted to panic even, felt like she should be panicking. But now, with him, with Leia and Iella offering her their unconditional support… what was there to panic about? They would figure it out.
"Mara… will you marry me?"
She made a show of rolling her eyes. "It's such an unnecessary formality. We'd have to have a ceremony…"
"We don't need a ceremony," Luke countered. He stroked her cheek gently, gazing at her with that same, adoring expression.
In the Force she could feel him reaching out to her and she reached back, accepting the depth of his love for her and cautiously offering her own in return. Then, she offered it not so cautiously. They were about to go into danger, perhaps the greatest danger they had ever faced together. She had nothing left to lose.
"You mean if we get out of here alive?"
Luke shook his head. "I mean regardless."
It was a silly question, really. He already knew what her answer was. He had known for a long time.
So had she.
"Yes," she said. "I will."
Teldin Imperator had been prepared for every possible eventuality, which meant that when Mara told Iella that she would need an ISB Colonel's uniform, she was able to pull one out of the costume closet without issue. It was beyond strange to don such a uniform, but it was not the first time she'd worn an Imperial uniform for a mission, and she very much hoped it would not be the last.
When she exited her room, still tugging on the fabric to make sure it was the proper fit, she found Mara. Iella had seen Mara in her full black Emperor's Hand armor before, but still the sight caught her off-guard. Mara looked so… Imperial. The black armor was relatively light, but it still offered protection and, more importantly, intimidation. The effect was redoubled by the lightsaber hanging off Mara's belt and the fully-armored stormtroopers of the 501st standing behind her, their hands on their blaster rifles.
Next to Mara was Tyria Sarkin. She was dressed in armor nearly-identical to Mara's, also lacking any rank insignia, and also with a lightsaber hanging from her belt in plain view.
"Are you ready?" Mara asked her.
Iella nodded firmly.
"We'll wait until it's clear," Luke said. He stood with Kirana Ti and Kapp. They were also dressed in Imperial outfits to conceal their identity for as long as possible. Luke had traded out his typical brown outer robe for black Inquisitorial armor. "Then we'll go looking for the defector."
"And we'll make a mess. I'm going to force Roganda to come find us," Mara said, smiling a predator, wolfish smile. She raised a hand and gestured towards the ramp, a simple stormtrooper command gesture that the 501st followed instantly.
Their stormtrooper escort marched down the ramp in two ranks. Mara, Tyria, and Iella waited until the stormtroopers had put their boots on the deck, then followed them down.
The theatrical march down the ramp had drawn plenty of attention. A confused-looking New Order Lieutenant—the same one who had greeted Mara on her arrival, approached, holding his datapad. Two DTs accompanied him, others turning towards them. Imperial dignitaries of all kinds were either looking in their direction or retreating into the safety of their own ships.
"What is the meaning of this, Countess?" the Lieutenant asked, seeming bewildered.
"You tell me," Mara challenged. "I have seen no Emperor. I have seen no Emperor-Regent. I have seen no Empress Dowager. As far as I can tell, they do not exist." She smiled, a thin, accusing smile, looking up towards the ceiling at one of the observation holocams. "This coronation is a ruse, isn't it? Everything that has happened—the invitation, the hyperspace jump, the delay… it has all been so that your masters could lure the most important people left in the Empire here, where we can be contained and killed. This is a coup."
The Lieutenant's mouth dropped open. The sudden murmuring of the Imperial dignitaries became noticeably louder, and then went quiet as Mara pitched her voice louder. "This Roganda Ismaren claims that she bore the Emperor a son, but we never believed that, did we? The Emperor was crippled after his encounter with the Jedi! He was old even then! He did not have some assortment of concubines, because the only passion that the Emperor had was the Empire itself!"
DT-797 whirred. ALERT: DISTURBANCE IN PRIMARY HANGAR BAY, her translation datapad reported.
Roganda did not have time for this. The search for Irek was proceeding, but she had to find him, and fast! Her DTs had searched most of the habitable sections of the station, starting with the ones around the cybernetics lab, but there was still no sign of Irek, nor any sign that the techs would be able to restore internal sensors. Halmere was gone, left behind, and Silencer Station had gone to hyperspace without any direct instructions.
The throne above her sat empty, mocking her. "Silencer-7!" she snapped, her voice commanding.
The enormous flatscreens that filled every side of the octagonal space remained dark, unresponsive. Her hands worked into fists, fury mounting.
Her DT beeped, tones deep and increasingly urgent. ALERT: ATTENTION REQUIRED.
She snatched the datapad furiously. "Tell them to behave themselves!" she snarled. Those insignificant worms had no business interrupting her! "They are not important enough—"
Her eyes went wide as the datapad displayed the video feed from the docking back. That was Mara Jade.
Mara Jade. Dressed in the armor of the Emperor's Hand.
"I say that Irek Ismaren is a fraud," the flatscreen image of Mara proclaimed. "I say that Roganda Ismaren is a fraud! Who were they—some insignificant nobles in the court? The only reason anyone listens to either of them is Inquisitors and ISB vouched for them!" Mara gestured behind her. "I have an Inquisitor here! I have ISB here! They agree—you have been lied to!"
Roganda grappled with her comlink. "All DT units converge on the docking bay! Terminate that woman at once!" She pointed at DT-797. "Fetch my weapons and come with me!"
"—you have been lied to!"
"Incoming!" TKR 330 snapped.
Mara was already moving. She snatched her lightsaber off her belt and activated it in a single flowing motion, deflecting blaster bolts back towards the battle droids attacking her. The 501st was already moving too, dropping to their knees and returning fire. One of the troopers hurled a grenade towards the thickest concentration of battle droids. It exploded in a ball of blue electricity and all the droids in its proximity fizzled and collapsed.
Mara leapt into the air. Her Force-empowered charge sent her soaring towards the nearest DT unit, toes grazing over the ground. She came to a stop on the far side of the droid. Behind her, it fell to the ground in two halves as she swirled her blaster, sending incoming blaster fire splattering away.
Tyria was beside her, her lightsaber flashing. They weren't the only ones fighting, either… Elta Besk's guard staff had joined the fight, flanking the suddenly outnumbered DTs.
Chaos erupted in the hangar. Most of the Imperials retreated back into their ships frantically, escaping from the blaster fire, but not all. Some, like Besk, were immediately on Mara's side, but others retaliated against Mara's challenge with prejudice. The hangar was aflame with blaster fire. Mara and Tyria stood out ahead of their phalanx of stormtroopers, protecting them with their lightsabers.
Beside them, Iella was systematically shooting every holocam in the hangar bay, blasting them off the ceiling one by one. "Time to move," she called to Mara.
"Right," Mara agreed. She waved TKR 330 towards one of the hangar's far walls, on her right. The DTs had already searched that part of the station, so if she and her team infiltrated back into it they'd be forcing the droids to move into previously secured space and stalling their search patterns. "We're going that way. Time to lead our enemy on a merry chase."
Luke and Kirana Ti watched anxiously from Teldin Imperator as Mara's formation retreated out of the hangar, vanishing into the depths of Silencer Station. They were headed into the well-mapped, already-searched areas of the station in order to draw as many of the DT units after them as possible. Behind them, the hangar bay turned into a protracted skirmish.
"Keep jamming all communications," Kapp ordered one of his commandos. "The longer we can keep the confusion, the better. Hopefully they'll fight among themselves all afternoon."
"Yes sir!"
Luke wasn't sure what he was waiting for exactly. But about ten minutes later, during a sudden spike in the fighting after one of the Imperials threw a thermal detonator at one of the many landed spaceships, leaving their target cratered and burning, he knew it was time to go. "Now!"
Iella's destruction of the holocams, combined with Kapp's jamming, should make it impossible for Roganda's forces to track them as they exited Teldin Imperator. Still, Luke drew on the Force to distract attention away from them as much as possible, redirecting the warring Imperials to one another. The second strike team rushed across the hangar, using wreckage and starships for cover. Kirana Ti charged ahead—she was faster than Luke and the rest of them—and made it towards their desired exit in advance.
Before they had left Coruscant, she and Luke had visited the old Jedi museum. While she still carried her spear, together they had picked out a lightsaber for her to carry on this mission.
She ignited it, a brilliant yellow blade snap-hissing out, the sound of its ignition muffled far from her by the skirmish ongoing behind them. Despite her unfamiliarity with the weapon, she was quite able to use it to dismantle the door lock. The way was open before Kapp, Luke, and the commandos arrived, and like Mara's team had, Luke and his team vanished into the depths of Silencer Station.