Varnusian Productions Presents:
Grave
Affairs
Medlab,
Vectur,
Planet Varnus
1800
hours
Xar Kerensky strode into the Medlab
recovery room with Deputy Mathis Organa close on his heels. As he entered, he
swept his dark eyes across the sparsely-lit room. He hadn't had much sleep in
the trip back from Sigma, and he knew his attitude reflected it. His long, gray
overcoat hung over his shoulders, and his dark hair was disheveled from their
hasty arrival. Behind him, Mathis looked even worse, in his worn brown coat and
long, scraggly brown hair.
Doctor Vannik, a dark-skinned, elderly man in
a white overcoat, stood at one side looking into a status display screen.
Occupying the only bed in one of the smaller recovery rooms was a man with long
blonde hair, a white sheet covering him up to his peaceful and quite noble-looking
face. It was a face Xar remembered well, now, though it had seemed familiar
even the first time he’d seen him. A number of monitoring devices were set up
around the bed, checking the patient's progress. He was sleeping.
Xar immediately turned to the doctor, laying a hand on his arm. Vannik turned and met his eye.
"How is he? What happened here?" Xar asked, quick and to the
point.
Vannik's eyes narrowed,
and he made as if to pull his arm away. When Xar's grip held, he shook his head
and gave up with a sigh. The doctor sometimes seemed to forget whom he was
speaking to, treating high and low on the ranks the same. It was one reason Xar
had selected him for the position; Vannik knew that
inside the Medlab, or in matters where therapeutics
were involved, he was in charge. He
spoke his mind, and acted as he thought was right. Xar wanted people who could
tell him when he was wrong. Foolish leaders died thinking they were always
right. Many had died that way, including Emperor Palpatine,
though Xar usually kept those thoughts to himself.
Still, sometimes that slightly impulsive trait had its drawbacks - and
annoyances. Now was one of those times. Xar wasn't very interested in Vannik's remarks about his tone of voice, nor his
objections about the patient’s well being. Vannik's
words surprised him, though.
"Physically, my patient's fine," he said matter-of-factly.
"Mentally, I'm not so sure."
"What do you mean?" Mathis asked from behind.
"What I mean," the doctor said, glancing between them,
"Is that he has problems. Big ones. You thought
he caused damage when he was still in a coma? He's ruined half the medical wing
by now! He's still lashing out with the Force, throwing things around..."
"I do not care about the damage he has done," Xar interrupted,
holding up a hand. "He is more valuable. Besides, he does not know what he
is doing."
"Know what he's doing? That's what I'm trying to tell you," Vannik’s voice was tense, but he was careful enough to keep
his voice down. "I don't think he's mentally stable. How was I supposed to
know what to expect? Nobody has been removed from a stasis sleep of more than a
couple hundred years, much less fifty or a hundred times that. He's suffering
from some kind of hibernation sickness. He's got temporary blindness, but I
think that'll only last a while. But that’s just part of it. When he woke up,
he seemed stable enough. Then when he noticed something was wrong, he started jabbering
in a language nobody understands, not even our best computer translators. We
can't communicate with him. He must be disoriented and afraid."
Xar nodded. "All right, all right. Let me
try. Jedi learn... other ways to communicate. Let us see if this one remembers
anything." He glanced at Mathis. "Stay close. Back me up if I need
it." He didn't know what to expect from a Jedi who lived during the
earlier stages of the
He started over toward the simple bed on which the patient lay,
hesitated as he looked into that calm, regal face. A Jedi who lived in the
galaxy's ancient past... What long-forgotten knowledge might he hold? What lost
Force Powers might he be able to teach them? He tried to suppress the thoughts,
tried not to get too excited, focusing on what he had to do. He heard Mathis
step up behind him.
Xar reached out and lay a hand on the man's
shoulder. Reaching out with the Force, he gently brushed the man's mind. Wake up, he thought.
Suddenly the man's eyes snapped
open, and he sat up so abruptly that Xar took an involuntary step back. The man's cold blue eyes were open, but they
saw nothing as they stared blankly at Xar. Then the man began speaking.
"Je, samo lawushan se bukan?"
Xar didn't bother answering verbally. Now he knew what the doctor had
meant, had an idea what the poor patient must have been going through. Calmly
he reached into the man's mind with the Force and closed his eyes. Yes, now he
could see what the man must have been seeing. Now they were on level ground.
But where his projected thoughts should have been transmitted to the other man,
he ran into an invisible wall around the Jedi. He felt around the man's mind,
searching for some entrance point, but he could find none. Whether
involuntarily or of his own accord, the other man was blocking him out. He
couldn't communicate with him unless the man made the other half of the
connection.
Xar could vaguely hear the man still speaking in the background, but inside
the Force, the spoken words mattered little. But try as he might to make sense
of the thoughts that went along with the words, he couldn't. He was being
thoroughly blocked out. Dauntless, he pushed harder, straining his thoughts,
trying to connect with the other man. Can
you hear me? Please, answer me, we are friends!
Suddenly he felt as though hurtled forward at incredible speed, and the
other man's sense flooded into his mind. Xar realized it was the first time
he'd actually been able to sense him since he'd awakened. I can hear you, the
feeling said, right in his head, and for a moment he thought it was his own words. Thoughts weren't like voices, with
different pitches and volume. There was
a sense of volume, actually, but different. It depended on the user's strength
in the Force, and, left unchecked, could give their
recipient splitting headaches from a simple communication. Xar had to mentally
reduce the intensity of the voice, otherwise he would
probably have been writhing in pain. The man's power level was absolutely
incredible, and he had no control over what he was doing. He felt a question. Who
are you?
My name is Xar Kerensky, Xar
thought back, finally getting himself oriented again. He didn’t know how exact
his thoughts would be transmitted to the other man. I am a friend, he concentrated on saying. You were injured, asleep. We have been taking care of you. We do not
mean you harm. He let his feelings and emotions flow through the link,
offering his sincerity.
Why can I not see? The
thoughts came forth.
You are sick from long-term
hibernation. You eyesight should return in a week or more. Please, let us help
you. Stop lashing out, you are making things more difficult.
I do not understand. I do nothing. Are you
truly a friend? Where am I? Questions
bombarded him.
You are on my home,
the planet called Varnus, in the medical facilities of our
A feeling of recognition at Xar’s last thought. Jedi? That
word... I know it. But I cannot remember. I do not know what a Jedi is.
Xar struggled to maintain his concentration. A sinking
feeling hit his stomach .You cannot
remember? But how are you using the
Force now?
The Force? What is that? I... cannot remember... anything. Anything! Who am I?
What am I doing here? Why can I not remember! The thoughts came through like a scream. The link seemed to
fade.
Please
stay calm. You have... amnesia. We will help you, but you must cooperate. It
will take time, we must learn your language, or you ours. Until then we can
communicate like this, through the Force. A mental link.
Force? Link? I am not doing anything, how can I talk
to...
And just like that, the link was broken, snapped like a twig as the man
thought about what he was doing, was doing something he didn't know how to. The
breakaway was abrupt, and violent. Xar felt like something really had snapped
in his head.
He opened his eyes staring at the ceiling. He was lying on the floor
against the wall, the patient's bed a good five meters away. Breath rushed back
into him, and he gasped for air. Vannik's face came
into view, as he leaned down to check on him.
"Are you okay?" Mathis asked anxiously, looking over beside an
unconscious patient.
"I am fine," Xar muttered, coughing. Pushing away the doctor's
hands, he brought himself back up to his feet. "What happened?"
"One moment you were standing there," Vannik
said, watching him warily. "The next, you were flying backwards as if
you'd been launched from a catapult. A trick of the
Force?"
Xar nodded. "He just caught me by surprise." He began making
his way back toward the bed. "The man is using the Force without even
knowing it, like a beginner, except this one is as strong as me, maybe even
stronger. He can only do basic things, manipulation of matter, telepathy,
telekinesis, that sort of thing. Nothing too complex."
"Not too complex?" Mathis eyed him incredulously.
"He has amnesia. He cannot remember anything." Xar announced,
looking over at the doctor.
Vannik shook his head thoughtfully. "Yes,
it would make sense. A good possibility with that long of a
sleep. This complicates things, obviously."
"You bet it does," Mathis scowled. "If he can't remember
anything, then he doesn't remember anything about his time-period, the Force,
or all the knowledge he might have gained..."
"That is correct," Xar breathed heavily. "So
much for our hopes of recovering any long-lost Force secrets. He is
going to have to learn the Force all over again..." He looked back over at
the bed. The man had lain down again, sleeping soundly.
* * *
Grathkar Korealis looked out the
viewport of his Nebulon-B class Frigate, watched as
several Y-wings flew by in front of his new prize, a large Imperial Modular
Conveyor they’d captured. Carrying important supplies for the
New Imperium's cause, though it would be their own undoing. Ironic, that. But he hardly gave it any thought. They didn't
dare touch the cargo onboard the ship. To do so would destroy the whole
operation, as sure as a delay on their part would, as well.
He reached down and keyed his commlink, signaling his men that were
working onboard the conveyor. "Report," he demanded. "Is the
bomb in place?" If they took much longer the NI might suspect something,
find the device they were hiding onboard. Then he'd have to kill someone.
"The bomb's in place, milord,
but we're having a bit of problems getting this cloaking device to work," an accented voice came over
the link.
Grathkar frowned. "You have five more
minutes to get it perfect, otherwise I'm gonna blow
your sorry hides into space dust," he warned.
"Aye, sir, we'll have
it," the man promised.
They'd better have it. It was just so hard to find good terrorists these
days...
* * *
Planet
Varnus
1930
hours
Maarek
Stele wandered the corridors, contemplating the events that had happened only
days before. In the
Strolling along on what he considered his evening walk through the
palace grounds, Maarek was passing through the lower recreation area when a
strange humming sound stopped him. A familiar sound... He'd never heard it in
person - most hadn't - but he was sure that many had in popular Holovids and a hundred other methods. It was hard to
mistake the sound of a lightsaber once you'd heard it before.
The sound clashed again and again. Maarek was becoming worried. It had
to be a battle; who in their right mind would fight with a lightsaber except
with the intent to kill? He hesitated. Should he try and find out what was
going on, or call security first? The latter might be the most prudent, except,
he felt... drawn towards the sound. Cautiously he made his way down the hall.
The sounds grew louder as he approached, then finally leaned around the corner
into the large recreation area. He gave a start at what he saw before him. Xar
was in the middle of the room on the training mat, golden-yellow saber held diagonally
downwards in front of him. But the person opposite him was what startled
Maarek. A huge bulk of a man, dwarfing Xar, and what looked like a large, black
axe in his hands. An axe with a glowing, deep azure blade.
A lightsaber's blade. The
light-axe's handle was long, and held firmly in the man's large hands. He had a
roundish face, and his head was shaved. His eyes met Xar's,
but Maarek couldn't discern any particular emotion in them. Concentration,
perhaps.
Maarek slipped inside and moved along the wall as the two men suddenly
went into motion again. The large man swung the axe down right on top of Xar,
who managed to bring his blade up, and parry the strike to the side. The weight
of the axe brought it down low, and Xar came up with a strike to the man's left
side. The burly man barely got his weapon over in time to block, then with a
grunt of effort pulled Xar's blade up and moved in close, bringing the opposite
end of the axe, ending with a sharp spike, up to stop centimeters from Xar's
face. It all happened in a split second. Maarek gasped and took a step forward,
knowing too late that he was too far away to help Xar in any case.
Then something unexpected happened. Both men smiled and lowered their
weapons, and Xar reached up and slapped the larger man on the shoulder.
"Nice one, Iver," he laughed.
The other man smiled back, and laughed, a deep rumble. "As you say."
Then they stood back, and this time it was Xar's turn to attack. He came
in with a series of thrusts that Iver turned to the side, then
abruptly Xar brought his blade around in a low strike to the man's right. Iver
blocked the blow just in time, though Maarek thought the man's dark robes might
need some stitching after that strike. Xar left his blade down, trapping Iver's weapon, then pivoted and threw a side kick into the
man's midsection. Iver bent over, the wind rushing out of him as Xar took his
blade and held it mere millimeters from the man's neck. "How was that
one?" he asked smartly, pulling the blade back and de-igniting it.
Iver straightened and took a couple shallow breaths. "Not
bad, Brother." The glow of his axe-blade faded, and he held his
weapon at his side. Both men grinned again, and this time clasped hands and
slapped one another on the back.
"It was good seeing you again," Xar said seriously. "Will
you be staying around much longer?"
Iver shook his head. "No, I'll be leaving in the morning. I have
some things I need to take care of. It was
a good match, my friend. Until later." Then with
a final nod, he turned and headed back toward the far entrance.
Xar turned and strode over in Maarek's
direction. As he got closer Maarek could see that sweat had plastered his hair
down and soaked his short-sleeved dark shirt.
"Who was that?" Maarek asked, glancing after the retreating
figure.
"Just a friend. An old
comrade." Xar walked over to the bin at the near wall and pulled
out a towel.
"For a moment there, I thought you two were really going at
it," Maarek said, raising his eyebrows. "That's pretty dangerous, fighting with
live blades. You could've been hurt or killed."
Xar looked back over at him and smiled. "Not really. We were just
having fun. But I need to catch a shower and take care of a few things myself.
How are you doing here in the palace?"
"Just fine, thanks. It's really incredible. Probably one of the
most beautiful ones I've ever been in."
"Glad you like it," Xar smiled.
"Yeah. Well, I'll continue my walk
then," Maarek announced.
"Right. Oh, by the way, I have to make a
public speech tomorrow morning, 0900 hours. I am going to go over our recent
mission to Sigma and make a few announcements. Come if you like."
"I might be able to make it," Maarek said. Then, nodding, he
headed back out the entrance to continue his walk. The night was still young,
and there was much of the palace yet to be seen.
* * *
Delran Spaceport
In
orbit, Planet Tralaria
1810
Hours
The
modular-conveyor slowed to a halt and sank down on its repulsorlifts.
Seconds later it came to a rest on the landing pad. Delran was one of Tralaria's
largest spaceports, and also one of the busiest. It was late afternoon here,
though, Tralaria standard time. Most of the ships scheduled to land were
already in their docking ports. The area around the landing pad was deserted as
the ship powered down and the automatic systems locked it into place.
The outside hatch slid open, and Engineer Jonas Meiers
made his way out into the cool hangar. Buttoning his coat up in the front, he
looked down and studied the pad area and walkways below. No one in sight, as it should be. The
operation was proceeding exactly as planned so far. The operatives working
there had taken care of that, along with making the landing clearance and
docking move as smoothly as possible.
Jonas turned around and secured the hatch, sealing off the ship for
cargo unloading, and started down the debarking stairway. The original pilot
and four-man crew of the ship had been taken away when they'd intercepted the
vessel, and Jonas had finished its journey alone. Now all that was necessary
was for the cargo to be unloaded, and to wait.
At the bottom of the stairway, he glanced down at his datapad. His final orders were there. He read them one last
time.
Upon completion of your mission, leave the
ship behind for unloading. Get off the spaceport and take a couple month's break. You've earned it. We'll contact you.
A tap of a few keys deleted the message, and he walked over and tossed
the device in the nearest waste bin. Then he turned and walked down the
corridor, hands in his pockets, whistling a lively tune to himself. Leaving the ship behind.
* * *
Vectur, Varnus
2130 hours
Xar
strode into his chambers and dropped down onto one of the cushioned seats in the
lounging area. Across the room a gray and black striped cat padded across the
carpet and jumped onto the couch, where it lazily fell onto its side and lay
there. It was one of many Xar had brought in, or let into the warm palace from
the outside chill. He had a soft spot for the small creatures, and made sure
the palace tenants took good care of them when they needed it. It was strange,
he knew; but somehow he likened them to himself, their ability to survive,
their tenacity. Many that were let in from the outside had had to make their
way through trying situations, much as he had.
Reaching over beside him onto the glass table, he took a small crystal
sphere into hand and studied it intently. The object was transparent, but a
latticework of crystal became more and more intricate toward the center. This
particular item was very old, and very expensive. He'd found it in a museum of
antiquities in the
The air in the middle of the room rippled suddenly, folded, and suddenly
a tall figure was standing there on the carpet. A cloaked
man, hair as dark as his robes and contrasting with his pale face.
"Still here, Icis?" Xar muttered from his seat. "Did you
know this little globe was responsible for two wars, three coups and the merging of two rival families?"
"Only call me that in private," Icis Novitaar
warned.
"Ah, afraid one of you 'enemies' will
notice you around and come calling? You must have quite a few, to live in such
constant secrecy," Xar jested, looking up at the man. Going by his Jedi
name of Rex since officially entering the Jedi Division on Varnus, he had saved
Xar’s life when they'd first met. Icis had decided to travel with Xar as an
advisor, though he absolutely insisted on maintaining as low a profile as possible.
Apparently the Force trick he used to render himself invisible was a large part
of that.
The other man's dark eyebrows rose. "I'm a survivor," he
stated plainly. "That is what I was trained for, and I learned it well. I
survive."
"Of course." Despite his closeness to
the man, Xar didn't really know that much about Novitaar. He'd revealed only a
sparing amount of information about himself, though from his sage advice and
apparently vast sources of information, Xar guessed he had been trained as an
informant or some similar vocation. He said he was a Traveler, one of a group
that recorded the most important events of history, but never interfered.
Except for this one, it seemed.
"These petty administrative and diplomatic duties are getting to
me, Icis," he announced. Around Novitaar was one of the few places he knew
he could speak his thoughts aloud candidly. "Did you know that the Harlek Ambassador wants to double the tariff rates on juriff this year? I did not even know what juriff was until
he explained the whole deal to me."
"How interesting," Icis said blandly. "Responsibility is
a heavy burden, slowly eating away the freedom of individuality."
Xar set the crystal back on its table. "That is why I am not
running for Diktat again. Not next term, anyway. What do you think of the other
potential candidates? I cannot lend my support to either, of course."
"With the power comes the responsibility to use it properly. Either
one - or many others - would do, as long as they are prepared. We must all be
prepared or risk the dissolution of all we work for."
Xar sighed in frustration, but he wasn't really angry. "Stop
talking in riddles, man! You always avoid my questions. You are supposed to be
my advisor. So advise! What else do I keep you around for?" he ended in a
more jocular voice.
"I feed your cats," Rex offered, eliciting a smile from Xar.
"Really, diplomacy is not my area of expertise. I'm afraid my advice is
limited in that regard."
Xar nodded. "Yes. Well, at any rate, I have to give a speech in the
morning about the recent Sigma trip, more political stuff. Will you be
there?" The other man shrugged slightly and gave a nod.
"How did you find me?" Xar asked suddenly. "Out of
everyone in the galaxy, you chose me to join and offer your assistance.
Why?"
All expression left the other man's face as surely as if he'd donned a
mask. Xar clicked his tongue in exasperation.
"I must know," he said.
The corners of Icis' mouth turned up slightly
in a smile. "You have been thinking about this." It wasn't a
question, but Xar nodded anyway.
"We have ways of... sensing such things," the man said softly.
"Key events in history, events certain individuals may be able to take
part in during their lifetimes. It is not that the person is so
important as is the event itself. I found you because of what I was
seeking."
"And what was that?" Xar interjected.
Icis continued as though he hadn't been interrupted. "It took me a
long time. Nothing may happen in your lifetime. It is always uncertain. Before
I found you, there was someone else that I thought would be the key. I found
him when he was still a young, an upstart in the Jedi Order. He was destined for great things. Just not what I had been looking for. It may be the same
case, now. But developing events suggest otherwise."
"Who was it?" Xar asked.
"The future is always in motion."
Back to the riddles, then. Xar didn't ask what
the man was talking about. That brief spout of information was the most he'd
ever gotten out of the man before. It was obvious he knew more than he was
letting on. His hint that he was fairly informed of current events meant the
man had access to a wide information base. Yes, there was definitely more to
him than met the eye.
Then a barely-caught name made him jerk his head back up. "What did
you say to yourself? Nimoudians? You mean the Nimoudian Conflict
before the Clone Wars?"
The other man's eyebrows rose. "You know your history," he
noted.
Xar nodded. "Yes, I try to learn everything I can about Jedi
history."
The other man's face held a guarded look, so he decided not to press the
issue further. He didn't know what could have made the man bring that up; the Nimoudian Conflict had happened almost forty years ago. Certainly before his time.
Coming to his feet, Xar gave a long sigh. "Well then, I suppose
must prepare for tomorrow. I will not need you any more tonight. Have fun
doing... whatever it is you do."
Icis half-smiled, and nodded. "Very well. Good night." With that he turned and
headed for the far door. Before he was halfway there, the air around him
shimmered, and suddenly he was gone.
Xar shook his head. He had to learn how to do that, someday.
Icis
strolled through the corridors, lost in thought. This part of the palace wasn't
widely traveled in the evening; only a few passerby
were making their way along on their business, the occasional cat scurrying
across the floor.
He knew he'd given too much away by that spill about the Nimoudians. For a moment he considered erasing that
annoying part from Xar's memory, but he quickly cast the idea away. Such a
small matter would involve great risk, he might be
detected, which would create a new host of problems. Besides, Xar had other
things to worry about. Icis had been there during the Nimoudian
Conflict, knew all about their secret pact with the Sith Lords, Sidious and Maul. Back when he had first started watching
Anakin Skywalker, the failure, the one who had proved not to be the One. He
snorted, thinking about Maul and his obsession to look like Velius.
The thought made him give a sardonic laugh, and a passerby jumped at the
invisible sound, running down the corridor the other way. Icis didn't care.
He'd seen the real Velius, and fought the weeks of
nightmares that had come from it. Idly he wondered where Maul had found a
description to go by. Probably in some mythology text or some
far-fetched, ancient historical record. Perhaps Vader had done the same,
modeling Nimrod the Destroyer.
Icis was so lost in thought that he didn't realize what he was doing
until he turned a corner and ran straight into a short, stocky man going the
other direction, knocking him down. The man got up with a curse, mumbling
something about not even being at the bar yet, then went off on his way.
Shaking his head, Icis continued his trek through the Palace, his thoughts
wandering along with him.
* * *
Audience Hall
0900
Hours
The morning air was cool, hinting at the impending winter
months of Varnus' southern hemisphere. It
will be much cooler soon, Maarek thought as he made his way down the
hallway. Outside, through the tall multi-paned windows, he could see the leaves
already changing color as the cold set in.
He continued on through the hallway until he emerged in the audience
chamber where Xar would be making his presentation. The room was already full
of people, the rows of seats lines up facing the raised stage and podium was
buzzing with conversation. Why so many people were really interested in a drab
political report was a mystery to Maarek; even with this New Imperium they'd
formed out here in Wild Space, politics were still politics. Normally he
wouldn't have been caught dead at such an event, but he was willing to do it
for his friend. It was strange: he almost felt like he was supposed to be here...
He shrugged the thought away. He glanced around the room, wondering where he
should sit. The hall was decorated well, with a blending of colors on the
carpet and walls and arched scroll-worked ceiling. Tall glowlamps
augmented the light coming in from the tall windows and overhead skylight. A
number of beautiful, exotic flowered plants were even placed in the four
corners of the room.
Maarek decided to take a vantage point against the wall, up near the
stage, where everyone could be visible to him. He'd always thought it wise to
have all potential threats in front of him instead of behind, with no chance
for him to defend himself. The security men obviously subscribed to the same
philosophy, as even this far inside the Royal Palace they stood at attention,
both the crowd and all the exits under their watchful eyes. A Holocam was also in place at the end of the room, ready to
broadcast the Diktat's message throughout the New Imperium and to its news
agencies. Maarek didn't much like cameras, either.
A few minutes later the room was mostly full, and a string of murmurs
issued as the Diktat arrived, striding through the side entrance, an escort of
guards surrounding him. Xar wore a black Jedi robe, beneath which appeared to
be plain clothing like he always wore. Apparently he still wasn't much for
formality. Not only security was around him, though. Maarek could see three
finely dressed men who looked like delegates following Xar. One was lean, with
graying hair and mustache; the other two seemed cut from the standard
bureaucratic mold, plump, pale, and important-looking. They weren't the only
escorts, though. Three other men wearing Jedi robes came in as well. One was of
average build with sandy-blonde hair that hung down to his
eyebrows, while another, named Kiz Thrakus, was a brown-haired, handsome man from Jengar who had come to Varnus with the rest of House
Ar’Kell. Maarek had met him earlier in the Palace’s cafeteria. The third man...
Maarek blinked. He hadn't noticed the other man before. This one was taller
than everyone but a couple of the security guards, with black hair that
contrasted his pale facial features. Simply striding along in his cloak, he
acted nonchalant, but his eyes took in everything in the room. Two Jedi to
accompany the Grand Master in his speech; perhaps the old days of the Jedi were
returning after all. But some of the room's occupants cast wary glances at the
Force users.
Maarek watched as Xar made his way up the short steps to the stage and
moved to stand behind the wooden podium. Behind him on the wall was a long
banner bearing the New Imperium insignia, a gold Imperial symbol and laurel
leaves on a field of blue. The security guards moved to conveniently out of the
way places, though they were obviously ready to act if necessary. The other
three men took up positions behind and to the side of Xar.
Xar took a moment to look out around the crowd, meeting Maarek’s' gaze for a moment, before beginning.
"Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of the New Imperium, and denizens
of Varnus, welcome. As all of you know, the past weeks and months have been
busy, hard, and trying for all of us and the New Imperium as a whole. We have
had to stand up and take our place in the galaxy, sort through our underlying
problems and correct them. The NI has gone through its birthing stages, and we
have prevailed and succeeded in accomplishing our goals. As newly-elected
Diktat, I am here today to report on more goals we have been able to accomplish
for the New Imperium, new venues for our growth and expansion. A great period
lies ahead of us, as we continue to grow and gain new allies throughout our
home sector.
"It is the latter which I wish to speak on first, and to report on
what may be ahead for us in the coming period. Less than two standard weeks
ago, our diplomatic mission to the planet Sigma resulted in a huge success and
the gaining of new allies for the benefit of the New Imperium. Our new allies,
the Kaav'Klan, have agreed to join us and share technologies, and to assist us in production with their
prodigious productive abilities..."
And suddenly his speech was cut off as the rear wall of the room blew
out, sending out flames and smoke, and wall debris flying out into the room and
into the crowd. The camera shattered into a hundred pieces. Time seemed to slow
down to a crawl, as chaos enveloped the audience chamber. Everything happened
at once. Just as people reacted, turning toward the source of
destruction or reeling back from the deafening blast, figures burst through the
smoke filling the open back wall, charging in through their newly-made
entrance. Maarek noticed the blasters clutched in the invader's hands
and dove from his seat, along with many of the crowd, and the room erupted in
blaster fire. Red bolts flew out across the room, aimed toward the stage and
the podium there. As Maarek hit the floor, he saw one of the Jedi - the
younger, sandy-blonde man - throw his arms around Xar and hurl him toward the
ground as shots blew off the front the podium, sending flaming fragments into
the air.
"Protect the Diktat!" someone yelled, and then a hail of
blaster fire answered the assailants from the security guards, responding only
a second after the attack began. The stage's other occupants threw themselves
down, as many of the crown were, but screams were already erupting from
everywhere.
Then, impossibly, several of the crowd stood up, doffing their cloaks
and revealing the blasters in their hands, and opened up on the stage area as
well. Red beams of energy filled the air ahead. It didn't seem like anyone
could have still been alive up there. Then Maarek noticed something; the blasts
weren't reaching their targets - they were impacting against an invisible wall
at the edge of the stage, where the now-shattered podium had stood. Behind the
shield, the three Jedi stood, the tall one looking out with his dark gaze, the
younger man clutching his left arm and glaring malevolently at the assailants.
The hail of blaster bolts intensified, but still they couldn't penetrate that
invisible shield.
The return fire of the guards was fierce, and accurate. Apparently the
shield didn't stop shots from the other
side. The would-be assassins screamed as they fell, and began taking cover
themselves, diving behind the audience seats where most of the crowd still
huddled.
Facing the death flying across the room, Maarek decided to make a break
for cover, himself. First coming up on his hands and knees, he threw himself
forward into a run toward the stage. When he was halfway there, red blasts began
flying close past him on either side. If those Jedi didn't let him through
their shield, he was a dead man. Taking one last stride, Maarek leapt headfirst
onto the stage, where he hit hard on the floor, rolled, and came up against
something soft. A guard's body, he realized, as he pushed himself up. Gritting
his teeth, he looked back out at the men who'd just tried to kill him. Reaching
down, he took the dead guard's blaster and brought it up to take aim at his
attackers. One of them popped up from his cover to snap off a shot that
impacted harmlessly against the shield, and Maarek fired, sending a burning
bolt of energy into the man's torso, throwing him backwards.
"Where are the Centurions?" someone yelled. "They
should've been here by now!"
"If they could have made it, they would have," another guard
responded. "We're on our own here. Let's show them the mistake they've
made!"
Maarek took a second to glance around him and take stock of the
situation. One of the two large bureaucrats was lying
face down, dead, the other huddled against the back wall. The graying man was
standing with the remaining security guards, sending fire back at the enemy.
The three Jedi were still standing there, seemingly engrossed in whatever they
were doing to keep the shots off them, and Xar... Xar was pulling himself up
off the floor, a wild look on his face. A frightening look.
As Xar rose, the attackers started yelling, and then, surprisingly,
began turning back, running back out the hole they'd made in the rear wall.
Fire still came from the assailants still in position, but they began moving
back, one by one, as well. Grimacing, Maarek fired at
the retreating enemies, scoring a hit on one that took him in the back and sent
him sprawling forward.
Seeing the Diktat up and alive, the older man grabbed his shoulder and
shouted something inaudible amidst the ringing in Maarek's
ears. Maybe there was more to him than it seemed; he certainly didn't look like
a politician now. Xar nodded at what the man had said. Then, making a
closed-fist motion to the guards, the graying man quickly began moving the
Diktat out toward the side exit. The other bureaucrat anxiously ran out as
well, and the guards began following as well, The Jedi, still holding their
shields up, came last. Maarek moved on ahead, down the stairs to catch up to Xar
and the man holding onto his arm.
"...and I know that, Drayson," Xar
was saying angrily. "I could have done something!"
"You're the Diktat, your life comes before ours," the older
man said. "Our job is to protect you... with our lives."
Maarek glanced behind him, seeing the guards and the three Jedi coming
into the hallway behind him, the hallway Maarek had used to enter minutes
before. The tall, dark man was walking ahead of the others, moving to catch up
with him and Xar.
"I am glad you made it all right, Maarek. I am sorry about
this."
Maarek looked back around to meet Xar's gaze, and shook his head.
"Why?" Xar asked simply. His face was full of confusion.
"I do not understan..." A high-pitched sound from behind cut him off, followed by a deafening
blast. The ground rushed upwards in Maarek's
vision...
Maarek pushed himself up spitting out the blood in his mouth. There was
more on the tiled floor in front of him. His face felt as if someone had pelted
it with a hammer. Gingerly he reached out to touch his nose. It was definitely
broken. Blood was gushing from his nostrils down over his mouth, dripping from
his chin to the floor below.
Ahead of him, Xar was getting to his feet as well, and as Maarek rose
and turned he saw what had happened behind. The end of the corridor was filled
with flames. The roof had collapsed, sealing off the entrance as well. Maarek
turned his head away at the sight of what was left of the rearmost two guards.
They'd been blown to bits by the explosion. Two more guards were down, and the
rest were staggering to their feet, swaying as they did so. The tall, dark
cloaked man was kneeling over the other Jedi. Blood stained the younger man's
hair; it was clear he wasn't going to get up. Kiz Thrakus was pulling himself to his feet nearby.
"What... what happened?" Maarek asked in disbelief. Reaching
up, he wiped his face with his sleeve, stared at the blood on it when he took
his arm away.
"Concussion grenade," the Drayson’s
voice said from behind. "They wanted to make sure they'd finished us
off." Then he reached down and pulled out his commlink from its belt snap.
"This is Drayson, there's been an attack on the Diktat in the forward
audience chamber. We need some reinforcements now! Where are the
Centurions?" He waited for reply, and a few moments later he lowered the
link, a grave expression on his face. "The Centurions are all dead. They
just found them, still at their posts, dead where they stood. We'd better get
clear of here, sir. You're not safe in this part of the palace."
Xar hesitated, then nodded gravely. "We
have to find out who did this," Xar growled. "And make them
pay."
* * *
"You
have to get off Varnus, sir." Drayson's jaw was set firm, he obviously wasn't going to
back down from this one. "We can't guarantee there won't be another
attack. I've called in the rest of the guard, but without the Centurions, we're
undermanned and spread out thin. If you weren't here it would make our job a
whole lot easier."
Xar reached the center of his office and
turned to stare at the older men. "I cannot leave my people in their time
of need. I have to calm them down, assure them that everything is all
right."
"It won't be all right if you're
dead. There's no choice here. We'll handle things here on Varnus. You’re the
Diktat; your safety is important for the whole New Imperium. We don't need you
here."
Mouth dropping open, he gaped at Drayson.
"You are directly defying me?"
"That's one thing you hired me for, sir. To
correct you when you're wrong. And right now you aren't thinking
clearly. I'm right on this. You can fire me if you want, but otherwise, I have
to do my duty," he stated simply.
Xar shook his head wryly. The man was right, that was why he hired them.
Just like Vannik, they could be a pain sometimes,
they could make you regret you'd hired them, but in the end you could trust
them with your life to do the right thing. "All right," he conceded.
"But I will not be leaving until later today, I
have some important things that I must take care of." Drayson
opened his mouth to protest, but he cut him off with a slash of his hand.
"Don’t push it, Drayson." The older man
sighed, then finally nodded reluctantly.
Breathing a heavy sigh, Xar went around his desk and dropped into his
seat. Drayson was right, in the end. Besides, the
Senate would be convening anyway, and he had planned on attending. He could not
let this change that. Mathis would have to go as well, as the second Jedi representative,
and perhaps Maarek would want to come, as well. After exposing himself during
the firefight, he might be a target as well. Yes, there was much to do before
he left. He had better get to work...
* * *
Maarek
gazed out the shuttle's viewport at the blue and green world receding below
them, touching his still-sore nose, barely healed by bacta
before taking the trip out. For the second time, he was leaving Varnus after
having hardly been there at all. He was never going to get anything done as Jedi
Division Wing Commander at this rate. He didn't really know why he was here,
but somehow Xar had convinced him to come along. Must be why Kerensky was a
diplomat and an Admiral, there to give out the orders, and he was a pilot, trained
to follow those orders. Xar had been a pilot though, once.
Over in the seat across the room from him, the long-haired Deputy Grand
Master who called himself Billbob groaned and
stretched. Maarek still couldn't believe this man was a representative for the
New Imperium. He looked like a wild predator pretending to be tame so he could
get close to his prey and strike at any moment. Wild,
dangerous, yet seemingly sitting easy in his seat beside the table.
Maarek doubted the man ever sat easy. The ubiquitous half-grin that always
seemed to be on his face was directed toward Maarek, now.
"Boy, is life out here strange or what?" Mathis shook his
head. "One minute you're in your quarters enjoying a nice hot bath, the
next you're blasting your way out of the atmosphere under secrecy of night, traveling
to the capital for who knows whatever reason."
Maarek didn't answer. Instead he reached out to the glass of water on
the table beside him and took a gulp. This luxurious private shuttle apparently
reserved for the NI Diktat's personal use was well-stocked with supplies and a
variety of alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks, but Maarek had preferred water
for a long time. When you had to live on the edge, the last thing you needed
was a buzz. A pilot had to make split second decisions, and have lightning-fast
reflexes. He'd seen pilots who had sneaked drinks before a mission come back in
a little container carrying their remains, or nothing at all. And when you had
to live by the skin of your teeth and whatever money you could scrounge from
doing odd jobs and flying missions, you couldn't afford much else but water.
This stuff might have been free, but he didn't want to get into the habit.
Apparently giving up on the conversation, Mathis leaned back in his
seat, sipping his brandy.
"So what can we expect from Tralaria?" Maarek asked suddenly.
Mathis, lowering his glass in surprise, shook his head wryly. "I
guess you’ve never been, huh? With our luck? More of the same, my friend."
Maarek looked down into his water, turning the glass in his hand.
"That's what I expected," he sighed.
* * *
Delran Spaceport
In
orbit, Planet Tralaria
0840
Hours
Kreg Harken strode into the
control room, a fresh cup of caf steaming in his
hand. With annoyance he noticed that his two subordinates in this cluster, his
Tech officer, Pann, and his "go-for”, Jenar, were already at station before him. Clearing his
throat, he set the cup down on the control console and slipped into his seat at
the
"Good morning to you too," Jenar
said dryly.
"I heard that," Harken warned.
"Same old stuff," Pann reported.
"I'm just going through system boot-up now."
"Why?"
"Well... there looks to have been a crash last night," the man
answered.
"That's odd," Kreg muttered. With a
tap of a few keys he brought up a manifest of the ships currently in dock and
their cargoes. Crashes weren't too uncommon as to be cause for more than a
rudimentary examination, but he was one who believed in thoroughness. And when
the manifest came up he stood up so abruptly he yelled aloud from the scalding
hot caf that spilled on his pants. "What the...
What's that ship doing here!" he demanded, pointing a finger at one of the
Modular Conveyers on the list. A typical class of ship that
could regularly be found in the star dock, except for one thing. This
one wasn't supposed to be there.
"Huh?" Pann got to his feet and
moved over to lean on the console. "Good question there, boss. Must've come in during the night."
"I know that!" Harken yelled.
"Find out what it's doing here!"
"Yes sir!" Pann launched himself off
the console and began furiously typing away at his own station. "No data,
sir. It must have been lost in the system crash."
"Or it wasn't there at all," Harken
mused. "How very convenient. Jenar!"
"Sir?"
"Kindly get yourself out there and find out what's onboard that
ship... Unless they've already offloaded whatever was onboard."
Jenar got to his feet in compliance, but Pann called out for him to wait. "Sir, I've found
something in the important lists, where the higher-ups keep schedules. This
ship was carrying an important cargo of... pets, of all things! It was
offloaded this morning. Maybe we should leave it alone... If the higher ups
wanted this through with minimal slowdown we shouldn't interfere."
Harken nodded. Pann
could be right... But still, something felt wrong. Why would the brass want to
push such a regular cargo through the important list? No, he would be thorough on this. "Jenar... Do it."
The
override caused the hatch to open itself, opening into the interior of the
Modular Conveyor, and Jenar Olen entered. Shining his
glowrod ahead of him, he made his way through the
cabin area and the hallways into the cargo area. An empty room greeted him, his
footsteps echoing in the expansive cargo hold.
Bringing his wrist commlink up to his mouth, he spoke. "It's all
been unloaded, sir. I think it's safe to say there were pets in here, of some sort." The stench in the hold made
his nose turn. He had to get a better job in the department than this...
"Roger, search the rest of
the ship before coming back." Harken's voice
came out.
Wonderful. Harken would have to keep him here as long as
possible. Shining his glowlamp around, he made his
way around the entire cargo area before returning to the cabins.
Suddenly Pann's voice came over the commlink. "We're picking up an energy source from
somewhere in the forward part of the ship," he said. "It's faint, but it shouldn't even be
there. Check it out."
Shaking his head in exasperation, Jenar went
in the direction he'd been told. If Pann started
being as picky as Harken, he didn't know what he was
going to do. Forcing the hatch door open, he made his way into the room Pann was telling him.
"That's it. Now, somewhere
near the floor against the wall. Look under stuff."
Setting his glowrod on the floor aimed at the
wall, Jenar set to work. He pulled the storage chest
away from the wall, retrieved his glowrod to look
behind it. And froze at what he saw there.
"By the Core... Uh, guys, we have a problem..."
* * *
One
massive expanse of ocean stretched outside the shuttle's viewport, as far as
the eye could see. In the copilot's seat, Maarek shook his head at the panorama
of water. "So this is Tralaria. I've never been to a water planet
before."
Beside him, the pilot busied himself with the controls, but he still
seemed in the mood to make conversation. "Yeah," he responded
lightly. "Tralaria's got millions of indigenous
species, all different types, most of them water dwellers and submariners.
We're over the
Maarek nodded absently, his gaze concentrating on the deep blue water
below. There were ships down there, white and brown vessels cruising about on
their massive sails. One might wonder why such primitive methods of navigation
were still used, but these craft weren't made for speed or comfort, but for
pleasure. On such a pristine, beautiful world many would enjoy a day of sailing
on the ocean, the wind and sea in their faces, enjoying simple life away from
the rest of the galaxy's problems. Many of those vessels belonged to the Tralarians, with their incredible aptitude for the seas, they had vessels which traveled both above and below
the waves.
"Beautiful sight, isn't it?" the
pilot continued. "There are some really incredible species living in the
oceans. Out of them, too. Did you know there's
something called a flying fish that can leap out of the water and soar around
the air? Their wingspan - or fin-span - can be up to five meters long! Of
course, the native race here's an enigma itself. Most of the Tralarians live underwater, but they can breathe air too.
That's how they have been able to mix in with the Imperials living here. But
they've irrigated most of the land mass so they'll always be close to the
water. The capital is crisscrossed with canals and rivers. Ah, here comes the
main continent now..."
"Okay," Maarek finally got in, holding up a hand. He'd wanted
conversation, not a full lecture. "I'm going to the back, going to get
some things ready." With that he followed his own words and got up and
made his way toward the rear compartment.
* * *
Senate Hall
1520
hours
The
wide doors that were the east entryway into the massive Senate Hall opened, and
Sector Admiral Ryskar "Scourge" D'larit
emerged, blinking his eyes in the bright sunshine. It was a warm, beautiful day
on Tralaria, the kind most people would spend outside as much as possible. Not
the Senate, of course. They conducted business indoors, although Ryskar wished
he could do something about that. It was such a shame he couldn’t take the
chance to work on his tan, he realized mirthfully. The sea breeze stirred his
hair, and he ran a hand through its not-yet-graying frock as he waited.
Scourge looked up at the deep blue sky, where only a few wispy clouds
were making their trek across the upper atmosphere. Even from down here he
could see dozens of craft in the sky above, traveling to and fro, some
approaching the capital city, others making for orbit. The salty tang of the sea
air tasted clean and refreshing. The faint roar of ocean waves crashing on the
beaches less than a kilometer away made soothing background music, punctuated
by the cry of gulls soaring overhead.
One ship, a bare speck of metal reflecting the sun, circled above and
started closer. A moment later the tri-wing design of a graceful Cygnus Lamba-class shuttle could be discerned. That would be the
Diktat's ship, the reason he was out here, waiting. Good that Kerensky were
coming on time on this occasion; there were many things that needed taking care
of back in the territory of his Dark Lightning Strike Fleet, and Ryskar was
anxious to return. That was, as long as another crisis didn't decide to present
itself during the Senate session. The news of the assassination attempt had
shocked the entire Senate, and there would inevitably be a bill proposal to
upgrade the defense guard for NI Senators and Officers. That
on top of everything else.
He pushed his thoughts away as the shuttle loomed closer and descended
on its repulsorlifts, coming to a gentle rest on the
VIP landing area. The shuttle's boarding ramp descended, and a troop of six
guards came out first, moving to form a row for the rest of the passengers to
walk through. Then three more figures emerged and made there way out, heading
past the guards toward the Hall's entrance. Ryskar moved forward as well and
met them halfway, offering a bow to the Diktat and the Senator from the Jedi. A
third person, someone who looked vaguely familiar, stood as Xar's left, rubbing
his thin, short beard as he looked up at the massive edifice in front of him.
"Welcome to Tralaria, Diktat, Senator," he said formally,
nodding to each man as he spoke. "We are very glad to see you here, safe.
You have arrived at just the right moment."
"Hello, Admiral D’larit," Xar
greeted him in return.
"You'll hear more about it once inside," Ryskar continued,
"but I'm glad you're all right. I couldn't believe the news when it came
in. I'd like to speak with you later, if possible."
"Of course, my friend," Xar nodded. Then he blinked. "Ah,
yes. Allow me introduce a good friend of mine from back during the war. He made
his way out here to join up with the NI, and has signed on as Wing Commander
for the Division. This is Maarek Stele."
Ryskar's mouth dropped halfway open. "The Maarek Stele?
You're supposed to be dead, aren't you?"
Stele shook his head. "I get a lot of that, nowadays. Let's just
say you shouldn't believe everything you see in the Holovids."
He smiled as he offered his hand to Ryskar.
"Don't I know that," Ryskar replied, taking the hand.
"You probably don't remember me, but we flew on the same mission
once."
Maarek stepped back, eyes widening. "Really?
Which one?"
"Back during the defection of Admiral Zaarin. I was there when he tried to pull the
coup."
"You too?" Stele exclaimed. He cut
his eyes over at Xar, then back at Ryskar. “Now this is strange. I guess we're almost like family, huh?" All three
men shared a laugh at that.
"I wasn't in your flight group," Scourge continued, "but
I was on detail and scrambled in to head off Zaarin's
fighter groups."
"Ryskar D'larit, right? I think I
remember now..."
Behind Stele, a cough broke into the conversation. "Sorry to
interrupt, gentlemen, but the reason we're here..."
Ryskar looked past Maarek's shoulder at the
long-haired Jedi standing there. "Good to see you too, Organa," he
said jokingly. "You're right, of course. Well, now that the pleasantries
are dispensed with, shall we?"
With that he turned back toward the massive edifice that was the New
Imperial Senate Hall and started forward.
Behind him he could hear whispered voices coming from the other three
men as they followed.
* * *
Main Senate Hall
1730
Hours
Maarek sat back in one of the
plush-leather seats in the spectator area of the Senate Hall and sighed. It was
about time for a little rest and relaxation. The Senate Hall itself, the
interior, the city around it, they all held a feeling of newness, a feeling of
life and vitality that was attractive and refreshing. No wonder Tralaria had
been chosen as the seat of the New Imperial government. No one to bother you,
no one to talk your ears off, and no one to blast their way through the wall
and try to kill you. The main Senate Hall was relatively peaceful compared to
recent events, even with the buzz of voices coming from the Senators' booths.
It was amazing how a group of people could disagree on even the smallest issue.
Then again, they could surprise you sometimes. Right now the Senate was
discussing, as expected, the idea of increasing protection detail for the
Diktat and the NI Senators.
After their arrival, Xar and Mathis had been taken to a small reception
ceremony in regards to their safe return. Instead of joining them, Maarek had
opted to find his assigned quarters and stow his gear away. He didn't think the
two men were having a good time at it, anyway. A short time later, it seemed,
it was time to get down to business, and thus everyone had filled in here for
the first formal Senate session after Xar’s appointment as Diktat.
As Maarek gazed around the circular chamber – a much smaller copy of the
Imperial Senate Hall on Coruscant
(what was left of it, anyway) – he wondered at the faces sitting behind the booths
occupying the alternating levels upon which they sat. High-ranking
officers, all of them, some military, some actually Moffs
and political leaders themselves. In the earlier days of the Empire such
a gathering of leaders would have been cause for serious occasion; in these
days, it was not so rare a sight to see so many leaders as to see them working
together and not trying to kill one another.
Then again, maybe the terms "working together" weren't the
best choice. While everyone seemed to be for the idea of increased security, is
was the manner of security which was
cause for debate, as well as how that extra security would be carried out.
Maarek didn't know any of the Senators besides D’larit
and Mathis, though he thought he'd seen Intruder Wing Fleet Commander Arfann Dogar and Phoenix Technologies CEO Walt Amason on
the HoloNews at least a couple of times. He didn't
want to judge any of them prematurely, but naturally held reservations against
political officers. His experiences with them in the past had been less than
pleasurable.
At the moment Senator and Fleet Admiral Caramon
Majere, who commanded his own fleet, was calmly laying out a plan for assigning
elite Stormtrooper protection details to Senate
officers until the Royal Guard could be reinstated. Occasionally one of the
other Senators would make a comment, or the Speaker himself, asking questions
regarding the senator's plan. Others seemed to want to expand the Centurions
who had been doing the duty up until now, offering that Imperial guards and stormtroopers gave too much of an ‘Imperial’ presence and
would instill fear rather than assuage it. It wasn't all that interesting to
Maarek though, and he found his thoughts drifting. He was considering the idea
of visiting the hangar and pilots' mess to see what he could get into when the
tone of the Senate's conversation suddenly changed. He hadn't been listening
closely enough to make anything out, but he could definitely feel it in the
atmosphere. Xar, standing at the Speaker's podium in the center of the room and
surrounded by the Senate booths, was looking intently into his access vidscreen. Finally he looked back up warily and his eyes
swept across the Senators around him.
"Gentlemen, an incident has come up that
I am afraid will require the Senate to postpone its discussions. A matter
pertaining to NI security requires our attention. I am sorry for the
interruption, but I cannot say more at the moment. I would suggest we relocate
to the forward conference areas to discuss these matters."
Without waiting further, Maarek got up and began making his way down
toward the center floor. Regardless of the danger, he figured he was better off
with the ones who had the real security...
* * *
Conference Room
Senate
Hall
1800
Hours
Half
an hour later the group had reconvened in the spacious conference room, the
Senators gathered together in small clumps debating as to what had happened and
what to do about it. For himself, Maarek chose a seat by the wall where he
could keep his eyes on everything that was going on. As Xar took the podium at the front of the
room, though, most eyes turned toward him and the news he'd received.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a bit of an incident in occurrence
which may slow us down for a little while. It took them a while to convince the
security channels to let it through, but I just received an important message
stating that an explosive device of some sort was found smuggled into the
Delran Spaceport in orbit on a cargo ship. It was armed, but I assure you it
has been deactivated at this point."
Before he could say more the room erupted in voices.
A dozen questions were coming in, but Xar overrode them and continued. Maarek
leaned forward in anticipation.
"While who has planted this device is unclear, the bomb itself was
powerful enough to destroy most of the spaceport, and would have if it had not
been disarmed. The Security commission has deemed it possible for other such
devices to exist, and the Senate has been advised to take cautionary measures."
He held up a hand to forestall any comment, the voiced finally dying down to a
murmur. "I know you all have questions, but that is all the information I
have at the moment."
Naturally, the questions came then, most of which Xar couldn't completely
satisfy. Then, predictably, the increased protection detail issue was brought
up again. This time, just about everyone seemed to support the idea. Though the
question of whether or not they could legally conduct business outside the
Senate was briefly raised by one of the newer members, it was quickly explained
that being the Senate, they could meet anywhere they wanted and conduct
business.
In order to, as Xar put it,
"get things over with so we can get out of here and get to more pressing
matters", the group quickly proposed and wrote up a document to bolster
Senator protection, leaving the details of uniform to the individual being
protected. Thus there, in the meeting room, the Senate ratified the bill to
establish increased personal protection detail for Senators and Senate
Officers.
The
setting sun was a large, orange-yellow globe as it slowly sank toward the
horizon, the point where the astonishingly clear sky met the massive expanse of
ocean spreading out as far as the eye could see. Waves crashed gently against
the sandy shore, and a light breeze stirred the air and swept around those
enjoying a peaceful late walk along the shoreline. A few ships were still out
there, far off the coast, their large sails puffed out as they slowly swept
across the waves. The cloudless sky was populated by soaring seagulls, and the
much higher sky saw ships and smaller craft passing by far above.
Maarek stood leaning on the rail of the balcony overlooking that
beautiful panorama, taking a moment to enjoy and revel in the beauty of that
view. Peace. That was the image portrayed. He liked it here on Tralaria. A
shame he wouldn't be here long enough to fully explore and enjoy what was here.
It gave him a feeling he'd rarely ever felt before. Here, he felt truly alive.
It wasn't like the feeling he got when flying. Almost nothing could compare to
that feeling, of total freedom and power, the ground so far beneath you that it
didn't matter. That was a life unto itself. But this...
This was different. It was strange to him, alien.
His thoughts were interrupted as he noticed someone walk up to join him
at the rail. He glanced over... and instantly straightened as he saw the other
man. "Admiral D'larit! Good evening, sir."
The other man smiled and waved him off. "No need for the formality,
Commander. We're off duty. Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all." Maarek glanced back out
toward the ocean. The sun was just touching the horizon, bathing the two men in
orange light as it slowly sank below the surface of the waves. "This sure
is a beautiful place, isn't it?"
D’larit nodded. "Yes. But as officers we
don't usually have the time to enjoy it."
Maarek frowned. "Do you regret that?" he asked.
"Of course not. What I'm saying is that
I'm hardly ever here longer than it takes to handle Senate affairs." He
turned halfway towards Maarek, a calculating look on his face. "May I ask
you a personal question?"
"Sure."
"What do you think about all this? About the NI
and our cause. What brought you out here to join us?"
Maarek grinned. "Well, it’s a long story, Sir. Let's just say I was
between jobs. When I heard about Xar and the NI, and what you were trying to do
here, I decided to come and see for myself. I believe in what the New Imperium
stands for, sir. Here, with you, I feel
like I have a real purpose, and I want to do what I can to help." He
paused, his thoughts wandering. "What brought you into military life, if I
may ask?"
D’larit’s face suddenly harbored a guarded
look. "The Rebels killed my wife on Thyferra. In
one day they destroyed one future and set me on another path for the rest of my
life."
Maarek winced. "Sorry, sir."
The Admiral shook his head. "It's all right. You couldn't have
known."
"If I may be so bold... " Maarek went
on, curious. "How does the NI's new stance
reflect on your feelings? Do you fight for vengeance?"
"Not anymore," the man said flatly. He didn’t elaborate any
more than that.
Rather than press further, Maarek decided to change the subject.
"Do you... think we can make it? The New Imperium, out here on our own, I
mean? There are plenty of enemies that would gladly try to take us down at the
first sign of weakness. We can't fight everyone at once."
"True," the other man agreed solemnly. "But we're not
shooting for some far off, impossible goal. We're taking it as we come to it
and focusing on this small area. And by doing that we can make the difference
we're hoping for."
Maarek gave a slight nod as he stared back out toward the sea. "But
it would be grand, wouldn't it? Having a seemingly
insurmountable goal, something to really drive you. People follow
impossible dreams."
D’larit shrugged. "True. Imagine what it
must have been like for the Rebellion, at first. Their task before them was
incredible, yet they persevered and didn't give up. And look where they are
now. Now the tables have been turned. Now the Empire is in that position. But for us... We're somewhere in between. With somewhat
around a single sector group's strength, dreaming to take our place in the
galaxy, it's all we can do. We have enemies on both sides, now. I don't know
what the future has in store for us, but whatever it is,
we'll face it as best we can."
"All we can do," Maarek agreed. But inwardly he couldn't shake
the feeling that something was going
to happen, and not far off in the future. His gut feeling was working again. He
couldn't quite put a finger on it, but somehow he knew that it was his true
purpose for being here. It had been driving him ever since he arrived on
Varnus. His feeling he'd had when on the Stormwatch,
barely making it out of his crippled TIE Defender, what he'd felt when he saw
that massive ship in space... Something was coming. But that knowledge didn't
bother him, really. In fact, deep down, maybe was even looking forward to it.
His whole life, as far back as he could remember, he'd
been searching for something, something he could never quite place but dangled
just outside of his reach. Maybe it was the burning desire in a pilot, the
thrill-seeking factor he'd experienced back in his youthful days flying swoops
in illegal races on Kuan. He wasn't sure if it was
here, in the New Imperium, where he'd find it. Not sure if this was the end of
his journey. But it was part of it.
The last slivers of bright orange slipped below the horizon, casting the
sky a beautiful red-orange, silhouetting the far-off clouds into a dark gray.
* * *
The
incessant beeping of his commlink brought Xar awake. "Lights," he
groaned. As the room brightened from pitch-blackness, he made out and reached
for the infernal machine. "Yes?"
The voice coming over the link sounded strained. "Very sorry to wake you, Mister Speaker, but an important matter
has come up. The Advisory Council has asked for you."
Xar stared incredulously at the device. "And what are they doing
awake at this hour?" He quickly glanced at the chronometer beside his bed
to make sure he hadn't overslept and made a fool out of himself. Seven o'clock. Still early for the Senate.
The voice at the other end of the link answered his question. "They need you in the meeting room,
sir. An Imperial Star Destroyer has just dropped out of hyperspace into
orbit."
"What?" Giving a muffled curse, Xar practically jolted out of
bed, momentarily forgetting that he wasn't in his usual bed on Varnus. His feet
hit the floor and he stood up, bumping his head into the canopy beam
overhanging the bed. "Ouch!"
"Sir?"
"Nothing," he replied flatly, holding his head with one hand.
"I will be right down."
Briefing Room
Senate
Hall
0725
Hours
Hurriedly
doing up the last two buttons on his jacket, Xar strode into the Advisory
Council's meeting chamber, which happened to be right adjacent to the Hall's
A hail of voices greeted him as he reached the table at one of the empty
spots and looked around at the members present. "Good morning,
gentlemen," he nodded. "I hear that someone has dropped in on us
uninvited." Opting not to take a seat with the rest, he stood and leaned
on the table with one hand, staring at the holoimage
floating above the tabletop. A full-color representation of the virgin blue
planet hung in the air, with small color-coded images of the planet's orbital
facilities, blue for civilian, green for military. A small red wedge, as large
as his thumb, was the newcomer, an Imperial-class Star Destroyer. As the image
rotated, another was projected beside it, a larger view of the ship and its
readouts.
"Here, have some caf," Walt Amason
offered him a cup of steaming liquid. "It’ll get you woken up."
Xar nodded and murmured his thanks. He needed to be awake for this.
"So, what have we here?" he asked aloud.
The whispered buzz around the room had died down a bit as he entered.
Everyone looked to have thoughtful expressions on their faces. The base commander,
Brinks, the man in charge of the command center, filled him in on the details.
"The newcomer ship projected ahead," he began, "entered
the star system just under an hour ago and has since moved into a high orbit
above Tralaria. Our scanners have identified the vessel as the Devious, an Imperial Star Destroyer Mark
II under the charge of the Commission for the Preservation of the New
Order."
"COMPNOR!" Xar exclaimed,
interrupting the man.
"Now you see what has everyone in such a bind," spoke Sector
Admiral Arfann Dogar from across the table. The
Intruder Wing's Fleet Commander sat at his ease, though Xar knew from the elder
man’s face that he must have been as upset as the others at the news.
Standing on Xar's right at one edge, Commander Brinks continued.
"We've already been contacted, so you know. A preliminary message was sent
to us shortly after they arrived, in which they requested a diplomatic
reception later this morning by the Diktat and first Senators, followed by what
they referred to as 'diplomatic discussions'."
"How typical," said Amason from the opposite end. "No respect whatsoever. And as for diplomatic
discussions, well... They're after something, zealous scumbags."
"We must take care to tread lightly here, gentlemen," Admiral
Majere spoke up from the far side of the table. "I've not been in the NI
as long as some of you, but I can see plainly what we face here. In light of
the NI's new 'stance' in galactic and diplomatic
affairs, if COMPNOR decides, we could have the entire organization down on our
heads. Zealous Imperial groups would pour all over us, and that would be just
the beginning. The NI could be crushed."
As he finished, the room began buzzing again with conversation. Xar
closed his eyes for a moment, trying to concentrate and gather his thoughts.
Yes, many things were in play here, but they weren't totally unexpected.
"Please!" he called out, holding up his hands. The din died
out a bit as the officers turned to see what he had to say. "This is not
unexpected. We knew what we were getting into, and we knew that some kind of
opposing action was inevitable. I know that COMPNOR visits are usually not very
pleasant and sociable incidents, but I tend to agree with Senator Majere in
that we must tread cautiously here. Let us admit them and arrange their
discussions to find out what they want, and then we can plan what to do about
it."
"I concur," Sector Admiral D’larit
spoke up. "Set up the meeting."
The others seemed swayed by the proposal, and within short order the
matter was agreed upon. Then Xar turned back to Commander Brinks.
"Commander, what is the status of our forces here in Tralar?"
"Well, our fleet has been dispersed throughout the quadrant, patrolling
and offering escort for our supply lines. All we have at Tralaria, at the
moment, are the standard defense forces."
"They could feasibly do a lot of damage with an Impstar
Deuce," Dogar muttered.
"Hostility isn't a foregone conclusion," Majere put in.
"True, but we can't totally rule it out, either. We should be
prepared, just in case."
Xar nodded. "All right, we will get Commander Brinks to see what he
can do for us. Meanwhile, I suggest we should get ready for our guests. We can
only guess at what they have in store
for us."
The other Senators murmured their
assent.
* *
Senate Hall Landing Grounds
1130
Hours
Xar
swallowed hard despite himself as the Lambda-class shuttle slowly settled down
on the forward Senate landing pad. This wasn't going to be pleasant, or easy.
The mild sea breeze that gently swayed the palms belied the tension and unrest
simmering below the surface of his and his entire party's feelings. Behind them
the wide base of the NI Senate complex rose many
stories, surrounded by satellite buildings and various other structures. Around
them, however, was simply open ground leading to beach and ocean. Tralaria’s main cities were either on other islands, or
underwater.
Two men were accompanying him for the reception of the COMPNOR
officials. At first he'd thought he would have to face it alone, but D’larit had surprised him by coming up to him after the
meeting and insisting that he come along. Then, just as unexpectedly, Maarek
had met him on the way to the landing area and asked the same thing. Seeing no
reason not to admit them, he continued on with the two men and the honor guard
of Centurions in his wake, hearing an occasional whisper behind him as he
traveled. As soon as they were outside though, strict formality took over, and
the officers had gone silent.
The three officers stopped some short distance away from the craft, and
the Centurions lined up in perfect formation behind him. Moments later the
boarding hatch of the Imperial Shuttle descended with a hiss of steam and
hydraulics. Xar watched as a squad of Stormtroopers
emerged and formed a path for the rest of the debarking passengers, the COMPNOR
committee staff.
As the three beings disembarked and made their way toward the waiting
reception, Xar stared in surprise. At the head of the group was a very
attractive young woman. His surprise wasn't really that a female was leading
the group - COMPNOR didn't hold as much disrespect for women as the Empire
proper - but that someone so young would be sent to deal with the NI. Xar
guessed that she was quite his junior, perhaps in her mid twenties at the most.
The Commission for the Preservation of the New Order often used younger beings that
were more susceptible to their zealous philosophies, but they rarely put them
into key positions of responsibility. While the New Imperium's government might
have been small by most galactic standards, it was strong enough militarily to
have care taken in dealing with it. This was an insult right from the
beginning.
Despite his feelings, Xar managed to keep them hidden behind a smooth
face. He glanced briefly at her two companions.
One of them was a young man probably a couple or more years less than he
was, and the other was a Devaronian male with two
long horns protruding from his skull. The young woman stopped in front of Xar
and gave him an inviting smile. Her light blonde hair was tied behind her, and
she looked at him coyly from her deep blue eyes. She was pretty, he had to
admit, but he wasn't swayed only by looks. He could see deception in those
eyes, feel it through the Force. There was more going on than could be seen on
the surface. An underlying tension filled the air around them.
The leader spoke. "I am Taryn Darl, member of the Commission's Select Committee and the appointed
representative to the New Imperium. Greetings."
Again, Xar tried to hide his astonishment. The Select Committee was the
ruling body of COMPNOR, consisting of barely over a hundred members. That Darl could be one of those was more surprising than the
fact that she had been chosen to lead the expedition to the NI.
Etiquette required a cordial response. "Greetings," Xar said,
nodding. "I am Xar Kerensky, Diktat of the New Imperial Senate. May I also
introduce Sector Admiral Ryskar D’larit, Senator for
the New Imperium. And this is Commander Maarek
Stele." There was no need to introduce him further, they were almost sure
to know who he was. But if Taryn Darl
was surprised in the least at seeing him alive, her expression didn't show it.
Her human companion actually had a smirk on his face.
"Nice to make your acquaintance," D’larit
said cordially but distantly.
Taryn's lips parted in what might have been a
smile, but it never touched her eyes. "This is my personal aide," she
announced, gesturing the young man beside her. "Commander Mitch Remmac. He is also an excellent fighter pilot, one of COMPNOR's best. And this is my ISB liason
and advisor, Manres." The Devaronian
gave a toothy, fanged grin, but Remmac's smirk
widened.
Xar heard an indrawn breath, and looked over to see Maarek glaring at
the young man. A match of wits, maybe? Well they could
have their staring match, as long as it did not come to outright blows right
there. He focused his attention back on Darl.
"Well then, on behalf of the NI, I welcome you to our capital. May I ask
to what honor we owe this visit?"
Taryn's lips curved upwards in a smile. "Of course, Diktat. I have been sent on behalf of the
Select Committee to visit your government and judge and evaluate the loyalty of
its goals as they coincide with the New Order's."
Inwardly, Xar gave a frown. Close to what they had expected, but with
all the flair and just-right wording that made it sound the most natural thing
in the world. This lady was definitely not to be underestimated in wits.
"I am not sure I understand,
ma'am," he replied, knitting his eyebrows in what he hoped seemed like
confusion. "The New Imperium is a coalition of Imperial groups. We have
made our goals quite plain. What exactly are you saying?"
"It is the duty of COMPNOR to ensure the loyalty of all Imperial
branches with the goals of the New Order. Although your New Imperium is a
separate, unified sovereign state, as many of our Imperial allies are, it is
our responsibility and policy to ensure the safety of all Imperial
citizens." Her eyebrows rose as if asking whether he questioned that
point.
Xar made a noncommittal sound. "I see," he replied.
"Your territory doesn't even have an officially designated Sector
Monitor," she continued as if he hadn't spoken. She shook her head in
seeming disbelief. "In light of this, the ISB itself has taken an interest
in your development and growth, and I have been imparted with the full
authority to personally oversee that things are proceeding as they should be,
and to take appropriate action if they have not."
Despite his intentions to keep a hospitable demeanor, Xar allowed
himself a frown that fit his mood. The Imperial Security Bureau, she had meant.
The meaning of her message was quite clear: if she so chose, the NI could be
declared disloyal and be treated as traitors. "I do not like threats,
madam," he said darkly.
Her face took on a slightly smug look. "Oh, it's not a threat, sir.
Just... a reminder." However she'd intended it,
the message had gotten through, all right.
"Very well," he said curtly. It was time to end this little
charade before matters got too entangling. This was not the place for a
discussion, and he needed to discuss this with the Senators. "I am sure
you are eager to find your quarters and retire until the diplomatic reception,
later on today. If you will make your way inside, the tenants will show you and
your... staff to your quarters."
Taryn Darl arched an
eyebrow, giving him an inquisitorial look, but said nothing. Finally she gave a
slight nod, then made her way around Xar and his
companions, her entourage keeping close behind her.
When her group was finally out of sight, Xar heard Maarek give a low
whistle beside him, while D’larit was slowly shaking
his head.
"Boy, you don't know how close that was," Maarek said in a
strange tone of voice. "I was about three millimeters from tearing that
guy's throat out right then and there."
Xar eyed his friend warily. It had been anger emanating from Maarek's throat in that growl. Not just a
passing dislike of the COMPNOR agents, but true malice. Even hate,
perhaps. What could have pressed such a normally laid-back individual to feel
like that? "Is there something
between you and Taryn Darl's
aide... Uh, what was his name again?"
Maarek was still staring darkly toward the gate where the others has disappeared. "His name is Mitch Remmac,
and he's a man I swore that I'd kill." Then, as if realizing for the first
time where he was, he gave himself a shake and looked up at Xar. "I'm
sorry... Maybe we should we talk later. Some place safe, preferably?"
"Of course," Xar replied. Safe? Safe from what, potential eavesdropping? Or did his friend
think he was in true mortal danger? "My office should be safe enough. I
should be there most of the day except for the reception."
Maarek seemed to hesitate for a minute, then
nodded. "I'll be there. Right now I think I just need to blow off some
steam. Later." With that he turned and quickly made his way back toward
the entrance. For a moment Xar wondered if he should have someone watch the man
to make sure he didn't try anything rash or stupid. Maarek hadn't exactly been
acting like himself the past few days... But still, he was a friend. If Xar
didn't know him well enough, he certainly didn't know who did. At any rate, he
should find out whenever Maarek decided to drop in for a visit to his office.
"Well," D’larit spoke up. "We
might as well go, ourselves. We shouldn't stand here all day, should we?"
"No, of course not," Xar agreed. "We would not want
anyone to think we were gawking at our visitors, now would we?"
They'd
barely made it back inside the Hall and out of everyone else's range of hearing
when D’larit pulled him into one of the small alcoves
where art paintings and sculptures rested, providing the place with atmosphere.
Xar gave him an inquiring look, but something in the other man's face stopped
him from voicing his unspoken question. Ryskar looked up and down the corridor
once more before turning to look back at him discreetly.
"We need to hold a meeting, Xar. In your office, preferably, since
it looks like Maarek will already be there."
Xar shook his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I can't say much right now," he replied. "Let's just say
I know a bit about COMPNOR. I know how they think, Xar. We've got to be careful
here. I've got my own grudges, too. But we'll talk more in the office. Preferably before the
diplomatic 'discussion'?"
"Yeah, sure," Xar agreed. "We only have a couple hours
though, maybe a little more. I hope Maarek takes care of that steam
quickly."
"Me too. He'll want to be there for
this," Ryskar noted. Then he stepped back out into the corridor and
started off to the left, seeming very interested in studying the artwork along
the walls. A few moments later Xar left as well, going right. Something was
definitely up.
Maarek
stalked through the corridors of the Senate Hall, not really caring where he
was going.
Inside he was still seething from
finally seen Remmac again. After all this time, he
had forgotten the man was still alive. Now, after meeting him again, it was
like a burning fire inside threatening to eat him up. It truly was a small
galaxy. Of all the places, all the possibilities, they both were to show up
here at the same time. It was so ironic it almost made him laugh out loud. Then again, maybe it was destiny that they
meet again. And this time they would settle old scores.
So caught up in his thoughts was he that he didn't even realize where he
was until he looked around the massive area. He shook his head ruefully. Even
wandering around, lost in thought, he'd subconsciously made his way to the
base's hangar bay. Well, now that he was here he might as well see what was to
be seen.
A squadron of TIE Avengers were fueled up and
sitting inside the hangar, the home guard of the Senate. The squadron only
launched in cases of emergency or threats to the Senate itself, though they
could launch on a moment's notice if such a threat did manifest itself. The
hangar doors were closed. There were no missions scheduled for the day. Maarek
headed over to one of the craft, his eyes caressing the powerful lines of its
solar panels, the wingtip-mounted lasers that could vaporize steel and duracrete in an instant.
"She's a beauty, isn't she?" said an arrogant, all-too
familiar voice behind him.
Maarek spun around, coming face to face with a smirking Mitch Remmac. Instinctively he gave a start and stepped back,
staring unbelievably at the man. "You!"
"Good to see you again, Stele. It's been a while. You've grown up a
bit, haven't you?" Remmac said with a laugh. He
reached over and leaned arrogantly on one of the TIE's
solar panels.
"And you're still a piece of garbage, aren't you?" Maarek
retorted angrily.
"Ah, come now. Is that any way to greet your old pal?"
"No, you're right," Maarek conceded. "This is."
Stepping in quickly toward the other man, he brought his fist up in a fast
right cross that took Remmac across the jaw, spinning
his head sideways. The man recovered fast, though, and blocked Stele's second
strike with a quick slap of his hand. Mitch's return blow caught Maarek across
the left side of his face, sending him reeling back. Stars exploded in front of
his eyes as the pain of the strike caused his head to whip back. Blinking, he
focused back on Remmac and rushed forward again.
"Always so cocky in the air, but not so tough on the ground!"
the man yelled, then let out an "Oof!" as
Maarek rammed into his midsection, knocking the air out of him and sending both
men to the ground.
"Hey!" another voice, sounding faint, called out. "What's
going on here?" The next thing Maarek knew he was being pulled away by
several pairs of hands, and other beings were jumping on Remmac,
doing the same to him.
"What's the meaning of
this?" a tall man in a pilot's uniform spoke up, warily eyeing both men.
It was then Maarek noticed who was holding them back. They were all pilots,
wearing the same colors as the symbols painted on the TIEs
in the hangar.
"That's it, get him out of here!" the man called out. The
pilots holding Remmac pulled him away, but the man
shook them off angrily and started off on his own. "This isn't over,
Stele," he said darkly. "We'll meet again, in the air or otherwise,
and this time you're going down."
"Come on," Maarek taunted his back. "We'll settle this
later, Remmac! Get in a fighter and we'll see!"
Moment later Remmac was lost to sight, and the
gray-haired man who had spoken was eyeing him up and down. "I'm Geren Bree, commander of Delta
Squadron, protector of the Senate. You're a pilot, I can tell. Who are
you?"
"Maarek Stele," he answered as the other squadron members
released him. "I came here with the Diktat. That other guy is a COMPNOR
agent, and a killer."
"COMPNOR?" The commander's eyes
widened. "Well now, maybe I should have let you two go at it. No; then
again, there would have been too much paperwork about it." If there was
one thing a pilot hated more than being grounded, it was paperwork and the
endless reports one had to write up. "Well it's a pleasure to meet you,
Stele. Perhaps you'll visit us again when you're friend's
not down here and I'll introduce you to the squadron."
Maarek grinned cynically. "Yeah, I just might take you up on that,
later. But if you'll excuse me..." With a nod to Geren
and the other squadron members, he started back toward the interior of the
Senate Hall, careful to take a different way than Remmac
had gone.
* * *
Diktat's Office
Senate
Hall
1530
Hours
A
light knock on his office door pulled Xar away from the paperwork adorning his
desk. "Enter," he spoke up.
The door hissed open, admitting a disheveled Maarek Stele. His clothes
hung on him sloppily, as if he'd been in some kind of scuffle. A red bruise on
his left cheek completed the image.
"Maarek! What happened? You look like a
total wreck."
Maarek grimaced and walked over to the small wooden cabinet bar.
Reaching inside, he pulled out a bottle of dark liquid and poured himself a
glass. Bringing it up, he sniffed it, then drained it
in one gulp.
"Help yourself." Xar’s voice was tinged with sarcasm.
"Remmac was in the hangar with me. I
swear I'm going to kill him."
"You got in a fight with
him?"
Stele gave a bitter laugh as he refilled his glass. "The squadron
pilots had to pull us off each other."
Xar frowned. "That is not good, Maarek. It could cause trouble
during the talks.” He shook his head. “What is
it between you two? Was that what you wanted to talk to me about?"
The other man nodded affirmatively. "Well, I first met Remmac three years ago. I was still living in, well, in
hiding with my family." He hesitated as if deciding how far to explain
what he was trying to say. "At that time he wasn't a COMPNOR agent. But he
was a hotshot who thought he could get rich by turning 'escapees' in. I told
you bounty hunters were the least of our worries; well, this was Remmac’s livelihood. Then COMPNOR came along... I suppose
they saw his piloting potential or something and signed him on. He tried to
gain our trust at first, then he betrayed us to
COMPNOR and got a lot of people killed in the process. I..." He was
interrupted mid-sentence by another knock at the door. Whipping around, his
hand reaching for a holster that wasn't there, he glared at the entrance.
"Who is it?"
"It's D’larit," a voice said from
the other side.
"Come in," Xar called out. As the door opened, Maarek leaned
against the counter sheepishly, looking embarrassed. Ryskar nodded at the two
men and closed the door behind him. "I'm not interrupting anything, am
I?" he asked concernedly.
"Oh, not at all," Maarek grinned, assuring him. "I
thought you might have been someone else."
Ryskar eyed them both warily. "More trouble from our COMPNOR
friends?" he guessed.
Xar nodded. "Maarek is really on edge about this Remmac character. You going to be okay?" he asked
Stele.
"Sure. Just get me a chance to meet him in the air and we'll all
have one less problem to worry about."
Xar opened his mouth to reply sharply, but a third knock at the door
interrupted him. The door opened and Mathis entered quietly. He gave a start as
his eyes rested on the room's two occupants. Then, with his ever-present
half-grin, he shrugged and went to join Stele at the bar cabinet.
"Organa," Ryskar nodded towards the man.
"Good to see you again, sir," Mathis replied as he poured
himself some of the liquid. Maarek slid to the side to get out of his way.
"Mathis, you came just in time," Xar told his Deputy Grand
Master. "I think we all have a common interest here."
"I didn't know he was coming," Ryskar put in. "But now
that we're all here, that's what I wanted to talk about, also. Our friends can
do more damage than you might realize. I've had some experience with COMPNOR,
firsthand. That's why I wanted to come with you to meet them, to get a feel for
what we're facing here. We may need a contingency plan for if something goes
wrong. They've got a Mark II Star Destroyer sitting up there, and that means
they can cause some serious damage if they wanted to."
"I am aware of that,” Xar stated, not sure what the man was getting
at. "Our fleet may be occupied elsewhere, but the planet does have
defenses."
"Yes," Scourge allowed, "but those defenses have to be
operated by people. And that's that COMPNOR specializes in: people. And people
can be bought, or turned…"
"Are you saying they've got their own people inserted here on
Tralaria?" Maarek asked, sipping his second drink thoughtfully.
Ryskar nodded gravely. "I'm afraid that's the case. They certainly
have agents just about everywhere, but in a place like this, they may have a
lot of operatives to stir up trouble. And that's just the beginning. If they
can rally enough of our people on their side, they can sabotage, turn our own
weapons against us – in short, they can cause some serious damage."
Mathis gave a low whistle. Xar
didn’t like what he was hearing.
"So, we could be looking at sabotage," Xar sighed. "What
do we do?"
"Like I said, we prepare a contingency plan. Hit them with their
own medicine, so to speak."
"Knock out that Star Destroyer," Stele said decisively.
"Well, maybe not entirely destroy it," Ryskar corrected him.
"That would be too conspicuous. But maybe we can disable it and deal with
their people one at a time. We can get more out of them without killing anyone
not involved. Unfortunately, I can't see a way to do that at the moment."
"Well, we'll think of something," Mathis grinned.
Xar shook his head at the man’s enthusiasm and leaned back in his seat.
"I am not really comfortable with the idea of interrogation. We might have
to do things we would regret. What about their representatives, the three
agents we met? Remmac is pretty straightforward, or
so it seems. Taryn Darl
seems quite clever, though. I wonder what she has planned."
"Just let me get a crack at her," Mathis said ruefully.
"We won't have any trouble from her then."
"I think not," Xar countered wryly.
D’larit lowered his eyebrows thoughtfully.
"What's up with the Devaronian?"
Maarek asked quizzically. "How can he hold a job as an ISB advisor? I
thought they loved travel and couldn't stand staying too long in one
place."
"That's true," Ryskar nodded. "It's a well-known face
that Devaronian males suffer from wanderlust. That
guy doesn't push papers. I’ll eat my boots if he's not a field agent."
"Great. So what do we do about all this?" Maarek wondered.
"We will just have to bide our time for now," Xar told them.
"They have not done anything yet. We must also be careful not to let
things out on our own and give them exactly what they want. Perhaps we can keep
them off us and eventually they will get fed up and leave. But we cannot give
them any evidence to use against us."
"That's true," Mathis agreed. "But sooner or later the
galaxy is going to find out. We knew that. Sooner or later we've got to take
our stand and show them we're our own power. Same thing with the Elfo..." he broke off in mid-sentence, his eyes
widening as he seemed to notice the other two men in the room.
“The what?” Stele
asked.
"Forget that," Organa said quietly.
Xar shook his head and ended the issue. He didn't think Ryskar or Maarek
would have leaked anything even if Mathis had mentioned the Elfodd
Contingency and their use of the "true" Force as they'd begun calling
it. "Well then," he spoke up. "The diplomatic reception with the
COMPNOR Representatives is in a few moments. We need to form a plan of
action."
The other men leaned forward as he made his proposals. A few moments
later, they nodded their assent.
Agent
Danres Motov leaned away
from the office door and grinned in cruel delight. The foolish humans had
sealed their own fate. They didn't have a chance against the mighty Commission
for the Preservation of the New Order. Barring his fangs to dissuade anyone who
might try to stop him, he moved off down the corridors, rehearsing the
conversation in his mind. Taryn Darl
would be pleased.
* * *
VIP Guest Complex, Senate Grounds
Tralaria,
1930
Hours, after the Diplomatic Meeting
Taryn Darl looked at the display
in front of her and smiled. This so-called New Imperium was a truly incredible
find. They were totally lax in their security, flaunting their little slice of
freedom as if they were in the center of the galaxy. Nobody could stand against
them, or so they seemed to think. Well, they'd be proved wrong soon enough. She
would see to that personally.
The meeting with the NI Senators had been a carefully planned trap for
their unsuspecting hosts. She had trounced them all with her expertise in
diplomatic speaking. The poor fools probably didn't know heads or tails of her
intentions, now. As it should be. On the screen in
front of her was a copy of the Diktat's recent public NI-wide communiqué
denouncing the Imperial devastation of Coruscant. True, many had been killed, and the Mutiny had thrown
nearly all the various Imperial factions into turmoil. But COMPNOR remained
stable and unified. The galaxy was a ripe picking ground for rooting out
traitorous Imperial groups, and assuming control of their various territories.
As most of the factions still claimed fierce loyalties to the Empire and the
New Order, they actually supported COMPNOR's efforts.
It was a brilliant strategy, and she, Taryn Darl, had the honor of fulfilling this part of it. Slowly,
one territory at a time, COMPNOR would wrest control of the galaxy and present
it to the new Emperor.
The entrance hatch swished open, and she swiveled in her seat as Remmac walked in. She stood up and listened to his report
warily. As he finished, she slapped him hard across the face. His head jerked
to one side, but he turned back to rest his eyes on her, not moving to touch
the reddening handprint on the side of his face.
"You fool. You could have jeopardized our entire operation by
getting involved with that twit Stele. When the time comes, you may kill him,
but until then you will not endanger my mission. Is that clear?"
"Perfectly," he said quickly, his face a smooth mask.
"Good. Now, our friend Danres has given
us some interesting information about these traitors. I have a special mission
for him, one that you will help in. Another discussion is scheduled tomorrow.
By then, we will have sent a message to the New Imperium. They cannot fight us;
they must know that. We have too many of our friends inserted amongst them.
When the time comes, we will reveal ourselves and make a decisive strike. The
New Imperium will be ours. But first..." She turned back to the screen and
input several commands. Another face replaced the Diktat's on her screen. A long-haired man, wearing a dark robe. "We make an
example to them, tonight."
* * *
Senate Hall
2120
Hours
The
tapcafe was crowded with people during the evening
dinner session, Mathis noted with an annoyed sigh. So much
for expedient service. Maybe I can
grab something to eat at the Skyline. Situated at the top of the Senate
Hall, it took a good walk and a turbolift ride to reach, but the view of the
ocean and surrounding city was unparalleled, and the food was exquisite -
however expensive. Oh well, he
sighed. I don't get around here that
often. Might as well enjoy it. Of course, there
wouldn't be much of a view except darkness outside... Resignedly he set off
back toward his quarters in the ambassadorial wing, planning to just fix
whatever food was afforded to the tenuous Senators who might need a meal at any
hour. The comfortable rooms were equipped with their own kitchen and stove, and
he'd learned to cook back when he was still a young man.
He made his way though the winding corridors of the Senate Hall,
offering passerby a pleasant evening whenever he met them. If there weren't
always some crisis at hand, he noted, he might actually get to enjoying this place. Maybe
I'll spend some leave here when it comes up again. That was, if it ever
came.
As he entered the ambassadorial wing and neared his quarters, the number
of people he met decreased, until finally he was alone in the corridors. But
that didn't really bother him. He's spent much of his life alone, and now he
had the Force, the feeling and sense of life all around him. He knew that Xar
apparently was much more attuned to Life Sense, as he could usually pick up
tiny traces of things Mathis couldn't quite catch. Still, he was a Deputy Grand Master, and hardly
insensitive to it.
It was that feeling that let him suddenly sense a strange, alien
presence nearby. He was quite used to the sense of non-humans around him, as
his occupation made it a daily occurrence, but this sense stood out more
strongly. He could easily discern the feelings he received. Malevolence,
evil intent. But where? He spun around, looking
back the way he'd come. Nothing. He turned around
again... And out of the shadows of an overlooked alcove, something black moved.
Then pain exploded into his chest, and he gasped as he staggered back, an
incredible agony sweeping out, sapping his strength almost instantly. As he
fell, he saw the small knife hilt sticking out of his chest right between his
ribs. Darkness threatened to overwhelm
him.
What seemed like an eternity later, a shape moved over him again. He could feel the intense pain shooting through him
as the assassin pulled the knife free of its mark. All he could see, a small
point of vision at the end of a tunnel of darkness, was a pair of dark horns
that stuck from a bald forehead. Then the blackness came...
* * *
Xar
finished going over the last document of the evening, signed his name at the
bottom of the sheet of flimsy, and put it on the tall pile holding all the
others he'd gone through.
The diplomatic reception had gone rather well, he'd thought. Darl had raised some cleverly-worded questions, but all in
all he didn't think he had let anything through. The whole attitude she seemed
to have for the discussions was disturbing, like everything was gearing toward
an imminent and unavoidable conflict. Even more he resolved to have a plan
ready for when that time came.
Pushing himself to his feet, he stretched, and with a stifled yawn
decided to retire to his quarters for a hot shower. It had been an extremely long day. He briskly made the
quiet walk through the Senate halls to his private quarters, encountering few
other people on the way. Unlike the Varnusian palace, where he was a common
sight strolling through the corridors, here most people gave him a respectful
nod and greeting, and some newcomers occasionally stopped to gawk at the
Speaker of the NI Senate as he went by.
Back in his quarters, he secured the door and moved into the refresher
station, grateful to shed the formal uniform he'd been forced to wear all day
long. He had just finished removing his coat and pants when his commlink
sounded outside in the living room. Cursing the blasted device, he trudged back
into the room to see what whoever it was wanted.
"Kerensky. What is it? I am off hours."
"Sorry to disturb you
sir," a shaky voice said.
Instantly Xar was on his guard. "Go on. What is it? What has
happened?"
"I... I'm sorry, sir. It’s
Senator Organa. He's in critical condition."
Immediately
he felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. "What?!"
"He's been severely injured.
He's in critical in Medlab, sir. Can you... can you
spare some time to..."
Xar stopped listening. Running back into the refresher, he grabbed his
clothes and hurriedly started dressing, praying that his friend was all
right...
Medlab
10
Minutes Later
Mathis
actually looked peaceful as he lay still on the bed. A white sheet covered him
from the neck down, but there was an obvious lump above his midsection where
surgery had already been performed and a bacta soak
was being administered.
"Mathis!" Xar yelled, starting for the glass door that
separated the two rooms. Through the large window he could see inside where his
friend lay. Through the Force, he could sense his presence, but there was
nothing inside his mind. He had to help him.
Before he was halfway there, two of the male nurses dove into him,
forcing him backwards and away from his goal. "Let me go!" he
shouted. The two men forced him backwards, grunting with effort.
"There's nothing you can do for him, sir!" one of them said
loudly. "Calm down!"
Feeling the fire that had welled up in him upon seeing his friend
subside, Xar let himself be pulled back away from the window. When they were
satisfied that he wouldn't make another charge, the men backed off slowly.
Resolutely, he turned toward the man that had been watching him.
"What happened?" Xar asked the doctor quietly.
The doctor, a tall, middle-aged man with dark hair, shook his head.
"The Senator was attacked on his way back to his quarters. A very sharp
object, apparently a knife, was thrust into his torso just below the solar
plexus. He was very lucky. A
centimeter's difference and it would have been in his heart. He would have died
instantly. As it is, no vital organs were damaged, and we've repaired the vein
and artery damage and are sealing him up."
"So what is the prognosis?"
The man shrugged. "We've done all we can for him right now. The
rest is up to him. If he wakes up, he'll be a little weak, a little tender for
a while, but he should be okay. If he wakes up."
"What does that mean?" Xar asked warily.
"It means that he's comatose and I really have no way of knowing
when or if he'll come out of that state," the doctor answered. "It
could be any moment, or it could be days, weeks, months.
Only time will tell."
"I... see. Any idea who did this?" he
demanded. He already knew the answer, though.
"Not to my knowledge." A chime sounded, and the doctor nodded
and started off into another section of the room. Xar looked through the glass window into the
critical care room, his mind racing. He was glad that Mathis hadn't been killed, glad it seemed he'd be okay after he woke up. But he
could feel a burning in his stomach. Anger. He knew
who had done this. Oh, it looked like an act of revenge from the Eyes of Elfodd on the surface. Who would the Eyes have to hate more
than Mathis? Their leader, Grathkar Korealis, was insane with hate of Organa. But it was too clever, too simple. He was reminded
of that long-lost, ancient Jedi on Varnus they'd brought out of stasis. He
wondered how he was doing, since after the assassination attempt they'd left
Varnus so suddenly. Xar had left Warden Vynd Archaron with him, to try and communicate with him, to
teach him Basic and get him on the road to mental recovery. He only hoped it
was working. But now he had another vice. He'd had just about enough of the
COMPNOR agents. It was time for action.
"Kerensky to communications," he called on his commlink.
"Send a message to Senators D’larit and Dogar. I
need to see them in my office first thing in the morning." No need to get
everyone upset, just yet. With one last, sad look at his friend, he started out
of the room. He never should have gotten Mathis mixed up in this.
* * *
Ryskar
quickly entered the Diktat's office, closing the door and securing it behind
him. As he made his way into the living room, he noticed that Arfann and Xar were already present and waiting for him. On
second glance he saw Maarek Stele in one of the chairs near the far corner,
staring intently in front of him at nothing.
"I heard about Mathis," Ryskar said quietly. "I'm
sorry."
"It was them," Xar replied coldly. Everyone knew to whom he
was referring. "Time to be rid of our guests."
Ryskar frowned. "Agreed, but how to do it without destroying the
New Imperium in the process?"
"It's too late to worry about that," Arfann
put in flatly. "They've already made up their minds. This was a message to
us. But it's just the beginning."
"So how do we stop them?" Ryskar asked again. "They've
got agents everywhere. Anybody have a plan?"
"I just want to be there," Stele said from the corner.
"When it all goes down, I want to fly with the squadron. I should get that
much."
"I think we've all got a score to settle, Maarek," Ryskar told
him.
"Nobody's stopping you from flying, if that's what you want to
do," Dogar put in. "Though you know we don't want to lose you. Your
skills can serve a great purpose in the NI."
Maarek nodded, seeming to come out of his trance. "Don't worry.
I'll come back. I always do."
"I have a plan," Xar announced suddenly. At the interruption
all three sets of eyes focused on him. "You probably think it would be
crazy. Maybe it is; there is no guarantee it will work, but..."
"What is it?" Arfann asked.
Xar looked up at him with a flat expression. "The
bomb."
"What bomb?” Dogar paused, then his thick
eyebrows went up. “Surely not..."
"Exactly," Xar cut him off. "It's our only viable option
to taking out their Star Destroyer, and it is not even our device. The Eyes of Elfodd made it."
"How do you know that?" Ryskar asked him.
"They like to show off their handiwork," Xar said. "At
any rate, they gave us a chance, here. The Eyes are clumsy, but dangerous
nonetheless. With any luck the Imperials might trace the device back to
them."
"But we have to find a way to get the bomb onboard, or at least get
it close enough to do damage," Maarek put in.
"Besides that," Ryskar added. "We're talking about an
entire Star Destroyer here. Over thirty thousand people, many of who have
nothing to do with this. The common workers probably don't even know where they
are, much less be in on the mission here. We can't murder those people simply
because the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."
"What if we could modify the bomb somehow.
Make it disable the ship instead of destroying it?" Dogar suggested.
Xar seemed to consider the idea. "Perhaps.
Maybe they could replace the charge with an electromagnetic device? Like an ion
bomb."
"Excuse me, but I must be missing something here," Maarek
interrupted. "Why go to all this trouble to modify this bomb ourselves?
Why not use our own, or just call in the fleet to destroy the enemy?"
"We don't have any weapons readily available like this. And if we
did, it would not link back to the Eyes of Elfodd
like this one does."
"And," Ryskar added, "Calling in the fleet would be
extremely conspicuous. Our job isn't just to eliminate the enemy, but to keep
the whole incident from blowing up into huge proportions. A huge Imperial fleet
could show up right at our doorstep."
"So when do we stand up and show the galaxy we're on our own?"
Maarek asked.
"Soon, very soon." Xar said quietly.
"I will call our technicians about modifying the bomb. It is a long shot,
so it will have to be our fall-back plan."
"Agreed," Ryskar put in.
"There is another meeting scheduled later today," Xar
continued. "At this point we know that confrontation will be coming, so we
will both probably just be stalling for time and trying to trip up one another.
We need to decide what exactly to present later."
"Well, I'm going back down to the hangar to get familiar with the
pilots there," Maarek announced, rising from his seat. He gave a
half-grin. "If I'm going to be doing any killing tomorrow, I'll need to
know who my squad mates are." With that he gave each of the men a nod and
moved past Ryskar toward the door.
“Happy hunting,” Ryskar said as the man walked out.
* * *
Conference Room
Senate
Hall
1400
Hours
"I don't know what you're talking about," Arfann said in a dry tone, addressing the yellow-haired
woman standing in front of him with her palms on the table. "Those were
routine readiness tests, not military strength assessments."
Taryn Darl shook her
head arrogantly, looking like a falcon hovering over her prey. "I've had
my people check all your records and public archives. You can't get out of it by
lying."
"We all know that COMPNOR fabricates its own supposed facts to suit
any situation," Majere argued.
Ryskar gave an annoyed sigh. The whole thing had gone like this, and it
had really begun dragging on now. Xar had already gotten fed up and left, in a
very un-Diktat way, and it was clear that everyone else had had their fill of
it, as well. He could empathize with the man, with his best friend down in a
coma in the medlab. Having to put on a good face and
chat with the perpetrator must have been all he could bear. Now the
conversation was beginning to drag, and it was fairly clear that both sides
knew that matters couldn't be settled without confrontation. Ryskar didn't
really know what more Darl wanted to gain by going
through all of this.
Dogar simply threw up his hands.
"I've had enough of this. I believe this will adjourn our meeting
now."
"Yes, it is definitely over," Darl
said. Then, giving a glare that took in all of them, she stormed out of the
room.
Xar
stared into the screen where technician Howen, a
balding man who already had a spot of grease on the side of his nose, sat
fumbling around for something, trying to look for whatever it was and talk to
the Diktat at the same time. In the background Xar could see glimpses of crew members
moving about in a hurry.
"Well, we've made the move up here to the spaceport, now what do we
do?" the man asked, still concentrating on several other things at the
same time. That morning after his meeting with D’larit
and Dogar, Xar had spoken to the chief technician and instructed him to move
his personnel and facilities to Delran Spaceport in orbit, where the explosive
device the Eyes of Elfodd had planted was still in
holding. He had figured that it would be easier to prepare and send the device
from there, if necessary, and besides, the transport that still held the device
was docked there as well.
Steeling his nerves, and his trepidations about the man in front of him,
Xar laid out his plan in full detail.
When he finished, Howen stared at him in
disbelief. "You want me to do what?"
he stammered.
"I want you to modify the device so that it will disable the enemy
ship," Xar repeated. "You can simply replace the charge with an ion
bomb or something similar, can you not?"
"Uh..." The man's face held a panicked look. "Well, I
suppose I could, but what if it goes off while I'm working on it or
something?"
Xar frowned. "Are you telling me that it is not possible? If so,
then by no means am I going to make you take the risk to try."
The technician shook his head.
"No, it's possible. Just... Delicate.
How much time do I have?"
"You have until sometime tomorrow. It might be sooner. Can you have
it done? If things go wrong it could be our only chance."
"We'll work all night on it if we have to, sir," the man said,
pricking up in his seat. "I'll make the NI proud."
Xar felt a bit of skepticism at that, but kept it from his expression.
"Good. Oh, and make sure this does not get out, Howen.
You understand the consequences it could have."
"Of course, sir. You can count on me."
Nodding, Xar shut the connection down and made his way out of his
office. He planned to check on Mathis' condition, get something to eat, and get
a bit of much-needed rest. Things were going to heat up the next day. He'd be
ready for them.
* * *
Diktat’s Quarters
NI Senate Complex
Tralaria
Xar
rolled over in his bed, twisting the sheets around him. He was dreaming.
A strange, beautiful voice was calling his name. He knew it sounded
familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. A point of light appeared amongst the
darkness around him, calling him. He could almost make out a form standing on
the other side of that light. Tentatively at first, then with more confidence
he reached for it, striving to touch it. It was so warm...
Xar.
His eyes snapped open as he awoke, just in time to glimpse - and sense -
a shadowy form above him. His danger sense flared... With a grunt of effort he
threw himself to the side, off the bed, as something thumped from where he'd been an instant before. He struggled to
stand, then fell back as the sheets still tangled
around his legs. Pushing himself back up, he moved back, trying to get a mental
image of his position in the room. His legs came up against something hard, and
he fell back again. There was a crash as whatever had been laying
on the table was knocked off and shattered.
Finally getting the sheets out from around his ankles, he could hear his
silent assailant approaching. Rolling over, he kicked the table up into the
air, coming to his feet and pushing off toward the oncoming footsteps.
"Lights!" he yelled, as another crash sounded from where he'd
kicked the table over. Then the room's lighting came on, sending bright light
to fill everything. He'd closed his eyes from the initial flash to keep from
being blinded, now he could see his assailant in front
of him. He saw a flurry of dark clothing, and two black horns coming from the
assailant’s head. Manres! As the lights came on the
alien brought his hands up to shield his eyes, something glinting in one hand,
and Xar took that instant to kick the alien in the stomach. The Devaronian doubled over, the wind rushing out of him.
Pressing his attack, Xar grabbed the alien’s knife, pivoted his wrist back
toward him, and stabbed him with his own weapon. As Manres
gasped in pain, Xar took him by the horns and brought his head down sharply to
meet his knee. There was a thud and a grunt from the would-be assassin as his
face was smashed, and he sank to his knees. Xar let him down slowly, firming
his grip, then suddenly twisted his hands sharply with
Force-enhanced strength, eliciting a popping sound as the alien's neck broke.
Xar let the body fall to the floor, letting out a breath he'd been
holding. He stared down at the corpse, breathing heavily. He felt like a mess.
He glanced over at the bed, saw that a gash had been cut through the center. He
turned back to stare at the form on the floor. A cruelly-curved knife stuck out
of the dead alien's chest.
That was for Mathis, he
thought. Moving over to his commlink, overstepping the glass and various
objects that littered the floor, he sent a call to command.
"This is command, sir. Is
everything all right?"
"No, things aren’t all right!" he replied angrily. "Somebody
just tried to kill me! Wake the Senators, the command officers, everybody! Prepare
the city defenses. No, don’t ask why, just get them!"
Furiously he went to the wardrobe, dressed, and left his quarters,
stopping to call in a clean-up crew before he exited. In his rush, he never saw
the light on his comm display, informing him of the
message waiting for him.
* * *
Senate
Hall
0640
Hours
Xar
entered the command center into a scene of chaos. The entire personnel were on
their feet, moving from one console or monitor to another, their voice going
among a buzz of computer messages and alerts. "What is going on
here?" he spoke up loudly. Then, noticing that Dogar and D’larit were already in the room near the command console,
he made his way over near them and repeated his question.
"The board's lit up all over the place," Dogar announced
angrily, gesturing at an overlay map of the capital city. "The whole city
is in pandemonium."
"What happened?"
"Our good friend from COMPNOR, Taryn Darl, sent out a broad-band message not long ago," Ryskar
replied. "In it she called all 'loyal' Imperials to stand up and rise
against the traitorous NI, and to help them take control. Of course, they made
it all sound like we're the bad guys. Who'd have thought we had so many among
us?"
"They are not just 'loyal Imperials'," Xar explained.
"We’ve had COMPNOR agents inserted among us for months, waiting to incite
just such a coup."
"How do you know that?" Ryskar asked quizzically.
Xar shook his head. "Think about it. They’ve known about us for a
while. They had the resources to send a group to us a long time ago, but they
did not. Why, unless they already knew and were preparing for
just this day?"
Ryskar made an angry-sounding grunt, and Dogsr
nodded his concurrence. "Makes sense. But what do
we do about it? We have very little to work with on our own."
"Yes, but we are not down yet," Xar assured him. "Let me
speak with Darl, please."
"Sure." Getting up,
Dogar moved over toward one of the secondary displays, while Ryskar moved over
to the other side of the room.
"Coming through now," Dogar announced.
The main view of the Tralarian capital
suddenly changed into a view of an Imperial Star Destroyer's bridge. Taryn Darl stood in the
foreground, hair tied back as usual, wearing an Imperial-style uniform.
"What is the meaning of this?" Xar asked angrily. He already
knew what it was, and he also knew that the command personnel were already
working on a solution to the problem, but he needed to keep playing innocent or
things could get even worse for them. Right then, he doubted that the COMPNOR
agents had enough proof of the NI's disloyalty to
bring a full-scale assault down on them, but if they openly became hostile
against the agents, it would be all over. On the other side, if they could
force Darl to revealing her hand too soon without
revealing theirs... It wasn't a perfect plan, but maybe it could work.
Taryn took a moment to answer, and cleared her
throat importantly before starting. If she was surprised to see him still
alive, she didn’t show it. Xar knew this message was being taped, and probably
transmitted to unseen listeners even as they spoke. "After a thorough
evaluation of the New Imperium government, I have determined that the New
Imperium no longer holds its loyalties to the New Order. As duly appointed
representative from the COMPNOR group, and with the full authority of the
Empire bestowed upon me, I am hereby assuming control of the New Imperium until
Imperial-loyal forces do arrive. This will not be long, as I have already sent
a full report to my superiors and to the Select Committee. Consequently, all
significant NI officers and Senators, including the Diktat, are hereby placed
under arrest and confined to quarters until the arrival of relief forces.
Refusal to cooperate with these orders will be taken as an act of treason
against the Empire. Either way, your little party is over, Kerensky."
The display went silent as Dogar cut the sound. "She's bluffing,
trust me," he said confidently. "No message has been sent yet.
They're trying to push you into moving." With that he turned the sound
back on again, and Xar turned back to address her.
"This is preposterous," he said. "You have no evidence to
support your conclusions, nor the authority you claim
to have."
"I have full
authority," she replied sternly. "You will comply, or else."
"I know you have set this all up from the beginning, Darl. Your zealous agents find only what you want to see. But
you made a mistake when you tried to kill me and my friend!”
"I don't have to answer your questions," Taryn
said defiantly. "You're under arrest..."
Xar motioned for the link to be cut and turned away. It was about to
begin.
Xar
was doing a fairly good job of keeping her at bay, Ryskar thought as leaned
against one of the side consoles, out of the way. As the link was cut, the
screen went back to a view of the city. Xar got up and started pacing around
the floor. Commander Brinks moved around the command console towards the back
of the room.
"So, what are our options, gentlemen?" Xar asked, addressing
the two Senators.
"If we fight, we could bring the whole Empire down on us," Ryskar
sighed. "Dogar, how did you know she was bluffing and didn't get a message
out?"
Instead of answering, Dogar gave a thoughtful look toward Xar. "What
if there wasn't anyone around to tell the Empire?" he asked.
"Are you suggesting we kill anyone involved?" Ryskar asked
incredulously.
"Of course not," Dogar replied sternly. "But what I am
saying is that if we destroy these COMPNOR enemies we may not have to worry
about a message getting back to the Empire. Not one anyone would pay much
attention to, at least."
"But we would have to take out the Devious," Xar pointed out. "I would rather not try going
to sleep knowing I had killed thousands of people in one day."
"We don't have to kill them. We just have to.."
Dogar froze in mid-sentence as he was interrupted by a faint but distinct click beside him. Ryskar knew that
sound. The sound of a blaster safety being switched off.
Turning his head, Dogar stared straight down the barrel of a blaster carbine,
held by none other than base commander Brinks himself.
"Well, looks like our base commander's in for a promotion this
season," he said darkly.
"He is not the only one."
Ryskar looked over toward the sound of the voice, and blinked in
surprise. The tactical officer was standing behind Xar, one hand holding his
arm, the other pointing a small blaster pistol against his temple.
"Traitors," Dogar spat.
"Hey now, you mind your tongue, sir,"
said Brinks. "You're not in a position to give any orders here. Now,
nobody move! In case you missed something, we're holding the leaders of three
of the New Imperium's most powerful fleets hostage all
at once, including the Diktat himself. Bet you never thought that could happen,
eh?"
"How about putting your guns down if you want to live through
this," Xar answered him firmly, still held upright by the man behind him.
Brinks gave a cynical laugh. "Yeah, sure.
We're gonna be rich men. Now shut up and listen to
me. We're getting out of here, and as soon as I turn
you all in to Taryn Darl..."
"Are you going to shoot me or are you going to just talk?" Xar
interrupted again.
"Shut up!"
Ryskar frowned. Everyone else in the room had their hands up, including
him, and Dogar and Xar were directly under the traitor's guns. What could he
have been referring to... Except... Of
course. They probably didn't think about Xar being a Jedi Master. When Xar's
eyes met his, Ryskar nodded.
"Come on, shoot me!" Xar taunted. The man holding him looked
up incredulously at his captive, probably wondering if the man was sane or not.
Ryskar almost wondered, himself. Who could stand there with a gun to his head
and ask the man to shoot him? Either he was
crazy or he had no fear of death at all. But would Brinks shoot his most
valuable prisoner?
Apparently Brinks had had enough. For a second he took his gun off Dogar
and pointed it at Xar. "I told you to shut up!" he shouted.
It was all the time Xar needed. Suddenly the blaster ripped itself from
Brinks' hand and flew halfway across the room, followed by a high-pitched
scream from the traitorous commander. Brinks must have been holding tight to
the blaster, because blood was spurting out of his knuckled joints where two of
his fingers had been ripped off in the process. Brinks grabbed his hand,
screaming in pain, as he stumbled towards the back wall.
The other captor didn't have time to react. The instant the blaster left
Brink's hand, Xar ducked his head forward and rammed
an elbow back into the man's midsection. The captor stumbled forward, firing a
blaster shot that passed over Xar's head and hit one of the center consoles. Xar
immediately came back up, slapping the gun out of the man's hand. Then, giving
a yell of his own, Xar grabbed the man with both hands, ran forwards with him,
and slammed his head into one of the command monitors, shattering the glass display.
The traitor fell away, his bloody face gashed with cuts.
It had all happened in seconds. Ryskar was still staring incredulously
at the downed man when Dogar called to him, his blaster pointed at the kneeling
Brinks’ head, the command crew standing by for support. Then time seemed to
return to normal. Xar, breathing heavily, was making his way back over towards
the main console. Ryskar went to the near console and opened the bridge back
up, it having been sealed by the traitors when they tried to take over.
"Get this trash out of here," Dogar said contemptuously. Two
men led Brinks away at gunpoint, while the rest began to drag the tactical
officer away, as well.
As the deck crew moved to comply, Xar looked over from the command
console. "We are short on command crew now," he said. "Can you
handle tactical and coordinate our forces?"
"You sure you want me to?" Dogar asked.
"You do have the most experience here with what forces we have
available, since you helped to set the system up," Ryskar put in.
"Yes, you know more about it that the rest of us," Xar added.
With a brief nod, Dogar moved over to the now empty tactical console.
"Uh-oh," he muttered.
"What is it?" Ryskar asked, making his way over beside him.
"It looks like Brinks and that other guy weren't the only 'loyal
Imperials' on Tralaria. The board's lit up all over the place. The city's
shield generators are offline, as well as all our hangars except for the one
here as the Hall's guard force. We're sitting ducks unless we move fast."
"Sabotage," Xar said bitterly. "Kriffing traitors."
"Sir," the comm officer, now back at
his post, spoke up. "The Devious
is launching fighters."
From the main command seat, Xar frowned. "Not good. Suggestions?"
"If we engage them, then we'll have committed an act of war against
the Empire," Ryskar reminded Xar.
"Don't worry about that," Dogar said from his console.
"I've had all outgoing messages jammed since this morning."
Ryskar looked at the man in surprise. "Well, that ought to make a
lot of people happy. So, what'll it be, Diktat?"
Xar seemed to hesitate for a moment, then
finally nodded. "Launch ours," he ordered.
Dogar turned to look back at him with a sly look. "I already
did."
Xar smiled wryly.
Maarek
ran down the hallway and emerged in the hangar to the whine of ion engines.
Fully decked out in pilot's garb, helmet under one arm, he ran toward the
waiting fighters as the other pilots were boarding their craft. A loud siren
was sounding throughout the hangar, which had apparently been sealed off behind
him to keep any would-be saboteurs from stopping the launch. Maarek had heard
what was happening all over the city here in the dawn-hours of the morning. He
knew that they were the NI's only chance at success
here.
As he approached, Commander Geren turned from
the orders he was giving and smile when he saw him.
"Got an extra ship for me?" Maarek grinned.
The other man mirrored the grin and nodded. "Yeah, actually I've
got an empty slot in my squad. Delta Four decided to bail out of this one
because he didn't want to fight any fellow Imperials. He'd in custody at the
moment."
Maarek gave a cynical laugh. "These aren't Imperials. They're a
disgrace to the Empire and to themselves. A scourge on the
galaxy that I'll enjoy ridding it of."
"Aye, that's the spirit. I'd be honored if you'd take my man's
place," he said seriously.
"Offer accepted," Maarek answered briskly. "Ready when
you guys are."
"All right then," Geren nodded.
"Climb into your fighter and be ready. I'll give you command of Flight
Two."
Maarek nodded back. "Thank you. I'll be ready." He gave a
smart salute, which the Commander returned, and continued on as Geren went on with his orders.
Maarek quickly climbed the access ladder to reach the scaffolding above,
which held up the fighters. He found his designated ship in short order and
stood waiting while the techs finished their checkout. He took several deep
breaths, trying to calm himself down. This
is just like any other mission, he told himself. Mitch Remmac does not exist. He tried to
convince himself, but the knowledge of Mitch out there still hung in his mind. He
knew the man would be flying out there, too. They were destined to meet, and
only one would come out alive.
The techs gave him the go-ahead to board his fighter, and he gingerly
slipped into the TIE Avenger's cockpit with a sigh of relief. Finally, he was back home. The hatch sealed behind him and he donned his
flight helmet, attaching it to the necessary connectors behind him. He began
strapping himself in as the hangar doors began opening in front of him. It was
like a doorway into his soul, seeing the red-orange sky of dawn open up. He
could feel it pulling at him, beckoning. Now he was alive.
"All right, everyone check
in," his commlink crackled to life as Commander Geren's
deep voice came over the link.
"Delta Two,
standing by."
Delta Three, all
systems ready."
"Delta Four, standing by," Maarek called out.
And so on it went until the entire squadron had checked in. The sky was
clear outside the hangar doors. He nearly shouted with anticipation.
"All right, one last thing
before we go," Geren told them. "The enemy Star Destroyer is in
position near the Delran Spaceport. Watch your fire; we don't want civilian
casualties here. Our job is to take out the enemy fighter cover and provide a
screen for the spaceport and if possible, the planet. We're fighting the enemy
here gentlemen, the enemy of the New Imperium, which we've sworn our lives to
protect. It's time to fulfill that vow. Serve well."
Maarek nodded his assent, giving a silent prayer for all those that
would be in battle that day. Then at Geren's command
he brought his fighter up to full power. The intense whine of ion engines filled
his ears, and a beautiful sound it was. The whole hangar reverberated with the noise,
and the technicians, looking like insects from his lofty spot up on the racks,
began to scatter for the sides.
"LAUNCH!"
Gripping the throttle controls, Maarek edged them forward, and his ship
eased out of its holding rack. Slowly at first, but then with increasing speed
his fighter raced toward the entrance, a widening expanse of sky ahead. Then in
a second he was past, and with an irrepressible shout of joy he pulled his
fighter up and goosed the throttle up, shooting the ship up like a rocket. The
acceleration and gravitational forces pinned him back against his seat. The
Senate Complex and its island faded rapidly below, surrounded by endless ocean.
"Well, that was a refreshing
wake-up exercise," Geren's voice came over.
Glancing at his radar, Maarek noticed that the commander had followed his move
and was flying beside him. "Care to
join with the rest of the squad now?"
"Yes sir!" Maarek answered enthusiastically. He pulled his
fighter in behind the commander’s as the squadron formed up around him. Then,
leveling off, he began steeling his nerves for the mission ahead. Once combat
started, he knew, instinct would take over, and his enemies would simply be
targets in his viewscreen. All except
one.
"Fighters
have been launched," one of the command crew reported. "The Devious has taken a position a hundred
kilometers from Delran Spaceport and has begun orbital bombardment." His
sentence ended a bit shakily. Dogar knew what he meant. The primary display
showed intense bursts of green turbolaser fire as they struck down at the
capital city and the surrounding areas, vaporizing both land and water in an
instant.
"You were saying about the lives of many outweighing the needs of a
few?" he asked Xar casually.
"The ion bomb," the man answered stiffly. "I will contact
the techs immediately."
"You do that. And tell them to send a special kiss to these COMPNOR
zealots for me!"
Howen stared in horror at the officer who had relayed the
Diktat's message. "What?" he asked. "Didn't he get my
message?"
"He didn't mention that part, sir."
Howen bit his lip, thinking frantically. He'd
sent a message to Xar hours before. By five in the morning he'd known there was
no way they could modify the bomb's charge in time. He was in major trouble
now... What could he do? There was only one thing he could think of.
"Place the original detonator back in the bomb and send it
on," he stammered. "We have to deliver or we're all dead
anyway." He gave a nervous laugh. The bomb would totally obliterate the
enemy Star Destroyer, no doubt about it. Surely that was what they would want,
much more than letting the enemy destroy them all. Maybe he'd get even credited
as a hero for it...
"Watch it, bandits at nine
o'clock," Delta Six called out.
"Got it," Geren's voice came over. "Ten bandit Avengers, watch for missiles. Flights one, two, and
three, break and attack. Repeat: break and attack."
"That's our cue," Maarek said on his flight's frequency.
"Stay on my wing if you can, but choose targets of opportunity." With
that he pulled his fighter into a wide turn to port, where the enemy fighters
were already coming in hard on a cross vector. He knew he couldn't get around to face them head on, but he could pull in behind some of
them.
"Boy, they're coming up fast," one
of his wingmen said.
"I've got a missile tone
here," another voice came over the link.
"Break hard to port,
Eight!" he heard Geren shout.
Maarek inverted his ship as the enemy fighters flashed past too fast for
an untrained eye to follow. His was trained, however. Bringing his ship up in a
tight loop, he was suddenly going the other direction, pulling around to follow
the enemy fighters. His wingmen couldn't pull as tight a loop and dragged
slightly behind. Mentally keeping their positions in check he focused on
staying with the cluster of four enemy ships ahead of him.
"Incoming missile!" the man who'd spoken before shouted. "I'm hit, I'm hit..."
Maarek saw Eight's fighter fly past in front of him as the missile hit
the back of his fighter and blew away the rear half of the craft. The rear of
the ship exploded, but amazingly his scanners picked up an escape pod flying
off as the rest of the fighter broke up.
As the fight descended into a brawl, the endless chatter coming across
the link passed his ears barely noticed; Maarek was more than used to picking
out the useful elements. He was focusing on his own targets. Suddenly they
split around him in a classic maneuver that would have made him follow one and
be susceptible to one of the others. But he did something they couldn't have
suspected. He kept going straight, after his original target. Another enemy
craft was flying past over two kilometers ahead, tracking on his
own squadron.
"Got a tone," he called out as his threat indicator went red. "Firing." An ion-trailed concussion missile shot
out from his ship at blinding speed. The enemy Avenger, with almost no time to
react, pulled his craft high and right to try and avoid the missile, but the
warhead was well on target. The missile punched straight through the bottom of
the fighter near its port solar panel and exploded, destroying most of the
fighter and killing the pilot instantly. The debris continued on towards the
blue world below.
Suddenly his warning light came on, and he responsively jerked his
fighter up in a tighter loop than before. "Got a lock on me," he
called out.
"Right with you, boss," another
voice called out. He recognized Delta Seven, one of his own flight.
"I'm taking a shot."
Maarek saw the ship ahead and to his left launch a missile that flashed
by within twenty meters of his craft. The enemy blip on his rear scanners
winked out, as did his warning indicator. "Thanks, Seven," he called
out.
"Good shot, Seven," Geren's voice said. "New
craft alert, boys. A squadron of Interceptors coming in mark
one-oh-seven."
"I see them," Maarek called out. A glinting cloud of ships was
approaching from the direction of the Devious.
"Seven, Six, form on me. Let's pierce their
formation."
"Right with you,"
Six called out.
"On it," Seven
assented.
Maarek slewed his fighter into a skid, then
goosed the throttle, shooting off toward the enemy formation. His wingmen
stayed close behind him. The enemy Interceptor squadron was spread out to cover
a wide firing range while keeping them from being attacked in a cluster. As
they neared, a swarm of laser blasts erupted from the enemy group, swarming all
around them. His wingmen sent return fire back towards the cluster, shaking off
several of their attackers. Maarek, on the other hand, singled out one target,
near the center. His target's blasts passed all around him, but none scored a
hit. Maarek waited until the ship was nearly in his sights - and his target
indicator flashed. He fired, sending a quad-blast of laser fire at the enemy
fighter that hit the ship dead on. The Interceptor exploded into a ball of
flame and gas that passed underneath Maarek's
fighter. Bringing his ship up and around, he came in for another attack.
Sector Admiral D’larit
watched the unfolding scene being played out on the displays. Their fighters
had engaged the COMPNOR forces and appeared to be holding their own, at least
for now. The enemy Star Destroyer Devious,
however, was doing more than enough damage itself. Apparently loyal NI groups
were regaining control of the various elements that had gone down due to
sabotage, however. Several of the city's shield generators had been activated,
and more often than not the blasts of turbolaser energy streaking down from
space impacted harmlessly against their protective fields.
"Modular Conveyor Delivery
I has just launched from Delran
Spaceport," reported one of the officers.
"Good," Xar replied. "Right on
schedule."
"How did you fix it so they'll take the bait?" Ryskar asked
him. "They aren't just going to pick up a fleeing transport for the fun of
it."
"I gave them a temptation they cannot resist," the Diktat
replied smugly. "They think the ship is loaded with special technology we
cannot afford to lose."
"But they still might not take it," Ryskar pointed out.
"Well, we just have to show them how desperate we are to save
it."
Maarek
pulled back on the stick, bringing his fighter into a tighter loop than the
Interceptor in front of him, exposing the top of the enemy fighter to his
targeting reticule. Their two ships were locked in a deadly spiral dance. The
star-field swam by, and even the planet below passed by the viewport as he
pulled in tight to stay with his target. His first shots passed behind the
ship. He pulled even tighter, his target indicator going green at a spot just
ahead of the enemy fighter as he got lead on him. Firing, he sent a quartet of
laser bolts that hit right on target, destroying the ball-like cockpit in a
bright flash. The remaining debris, pieces of solar panel and metal, drifted
along to join the rest of the scrap in orbit.
Maarek leveled off a moment, the lattice-type metal of the spaceport hanging
in space ahead. A ship seemed to be lifting off, over there. Not
very wise for someone to try to escape in the heat of battle. The Star
Destroyer had several batteries focused on the station, as well, sending out
flashes of turbolaser fire towards the spaceport. The thought made him angrier
than ever: that this ruthless scum had no care for life, civilian or otherwise.
"We can't let them destroy the spaceport," Maarek said into his
commlink.
"Affirmative," Geren spoke up. "Flight
Three, break off and..." His voice broke off
as a new signal came in, this one on a private channel.
"I think you should worry
more about yourself, Stele," a familiar voice cooed.
Maarek stared down at his radar in awe. There was no mistaking Remmac's voice. A red enemy blip was there, directly in his
wake trail. "YOU!" he yelled, at the same time skewing his fighter in
a wild turn to starboard. A quad-burst of laser fire shot through the place
he'd been an instant before. "Glad you could make it, Mitch!" He
pulled into a series of tight corkscrews, but he saw that Remmac
was right on his tail. "Now let's settle this once and for all!"
"Yes, this is the end between
us, Maarek." Suddenly a blast
pounded into his rear shields, bringing them into the red. Instinctively Maarek
shunted laser power to recharge his shields and focused on juking
his ship around to avoid Remmac's bursts. One thing
Maarek knew from the time he'd faced him before: Remmac
was the best, most accurate gunner he'd ever seen. He knew he could out-fly the
man, but his own lasers weren't going to be a factor in this fight. All he had
to do was hold out long enough to pull off his own special move. It had taken a
very long time to work out the physics of it, since once in the spin there was
no way to orient oneself. You just had to finish it and hope it worked out. But
Remmac didn’t know about it, and that was all the
advantage Maarek needed.
Another blast hit his craft, rocking it hard. "Come on, Stele," Remmac
taunted. "I was expecting a better
fight than this. Have you gotten soft?"
"Eat space dust," Maarek murmured angrily, goosing the
throttle as far as it would go. Space flew by around them. Everything else was
forgotten. He tried to calm himself, taking a slow, deep breath. He was flying
on instinct; all his consciousness was on focusing himself. There was nothing
but him and Remmac. They were one, his ship and his
enemy's.
Laser fire flashed past close enough to rub his shields, over and over
again. They were getting closer. Maarek turned a sharp barrel-roll, then pulled back up into a wide loop. Suddenly a massive
blast rocked into the rear of his fighter. Maarek wasn't consciously in his
ship, though. Dimly he noted his shields collapsing, most of the energy hitting
the rear of his fighter. His displays sent a shower of sparks all over him.
"You tried that move before,
my friend." The evil man gave a hearty laugh. "I was always better. Time to die."
Maarek leveled out. Now. In one motion, he cut in full reverse thrust, turned the
lateral port stabilizers to full and pulled back on the stick, sending his
fighter into a disorienting and normally unrecoverable spin. A quad laser blast
cut through the space he had been in. Dimly he heard a cry of surprise from Remmac as he passed from the man's view. Then he cut both
engines back in, hard, wrenching the stick to hold straight. Dropping
him right in his opponent's own wake trail.
For a split instance, Remmac hesitated. It was
all Maarek needed. No lock was necessary. "Bye bye,"
he whispered, his finger tightening on the trigger.
Instantly an advanced concussion missile shot from its launcher and
connected with the enemy fighter. At this close range, he could see a trail of ions
momentarily connecting both ships. The missile, carrying such incredible
velocity, punched through the rear of the craft and actually burst through
inside. Then the missile detonated. Remmac's scream
filled his headphones, then faded to static as his
Avenger was completely obliterated. The explosion was so intense Maarek had to
turn away to keep from being blinded.
"Yeeehaaa!"
he screamed as his fighter passed through the widening explosion. His shields
dropped as the flames enveloped his Avenger, and bits of metal clinked against
his hull and viewport.
He switched back over to the squadron's frequency. "Enemy down!"
he yelled.
"Sir,
one of the techs wants to speak with you. He says he has a message from Chief
Technician Howen," the comm
officer stated.
"I am a little busy at the moment,” Xar said to the man. “What is
it?"
"He says he just wanted to let you know that they weren't able to
replace the detonator charge, so they used the old one instead..." The man
grew silent as Xar, Dogar, and D’larit all stared at
him at once. Xar felt a chill wash over him. Blankly he hit the commlink on his
console, patching him through directly to the tech. "Excuse me?" he
asked unbelievingly.
"Sir, we
couldn't get the ion device working, so the chief had it sent as it was."
"Do you know what that means?" he practically yelled.
"He said it was achieving
practically the same goal..."
"We did not want to destroy it!" he replied angrily.
"That is the difference between night and day! Call the ship back!"
The tech's voice took on a panicked tone. "Uh-oh... Uh, sir, we can't bring it back... The ship is on
automatic, it was programmed not to receive any incoming transmissions after
launch."
"You idiots! Then we will have to destroy
it. How long until the bomb goes off?"
"Uh, actually it's set to go
off after docking procedures have been established."
"Great." He shut off the link. "Order Delta Squadron to
destroy the transport now!" he shouted.
"Good shooting, Four," Geren told Maarek evenly. "But now we've got a new objective. We've been ordered to destroy
the modular conveyor lifting off from Delran Spaceport. Its target priority is
number one. We can't let it fall into enemy hands."
"What? Is there anyone
onboard?" Nine asked.
Geren
pulling around toward the space station hanging in orbit. The enemy Star Destroyer seemed to be closing in on it, as
well. "Negative. The ship's on
autopilot. Now let's get to it."
"Got
it, boss. Let's go."
From
the bridge of the Star Destroyer Devious
Taryn Darl watched the
battle unfold. Remmac had been a good pilot, but
expendable. She was getting tired of his cocky attitude, anyway.
"What're they doing?" she asked, staring in confusion at the
scene in front of her. The NI pilots were actually moving into attack position
on the transport. They wouldn't do that unless there was something onboard
they'd rather destroy than let fall into her hands. She gave a slight smile.
"We intercepted a message instructing their squadron to destroy the
transport," one of the crew reported.
"Why blow up their own cargo?" Taryn wondered aloud. "Unless they'd
do anything to stop it from falling into our hands? Take us toward that
ship! Fend off the attacking fighters, I want it disabled and brought
onboard."
"Are you sure that's..."
"Do it!" she yelled.
Xar
watched the screen in horror as the blue NI dots were swarmed and pushed back
by the red COMPNOR ones. "Our fighters are being driven off by the enemy
Star Destroyer's presence. They can't get through," the comm officer explained what Xar already saw. "There's
just too many of them. They can't get in and stay alive long enough to get a
clear shot."
“Tell them to stand down,” D’larit ordered.
"Well, we tried," Dogar said with a sigh. "They must
believe there’s something valuable inside."
"Open a channel to the Star Destroyer," Xar told the officer.
There was only one other thing to try.
The screen flashed, again, into a view of the bridge of the Devious. And again, Taryn
Darl held a self-confident smirk on her face.
"What is it, Diktat? I'm very busy at the moment."
"Darl, listen to me. Do not capture that
ship."
"Why not? Something onboard you couldn't
possibly afford to lose? Or afraid we'll discover another of the
your dirty little secrets?"
"No, because there is a bomb onboard!"
Xar shouted at her, his patience exhausted at last.
The woman suddenly interrupted him by breaking into a hysterical
laughter. "Oh, that's very good," she said between chuckles.
"You'll say anything to protect your precious little empire."
"I am not lying," he said evenly.
"And why would you be telling me this if there really was a bomb
onboard? No, my dear Diktat. We've already scanned the
ship. We know its carrying new technology you've developed. You just can't
stand having it fall into my hands.
How pathetic. You are all doomed. When Imperial reinforcements arrive, you will
all be finished."
"Listen to me!” Then Xar broke off as the display went blank. He
slammed his hand down on the control panel in frustration.
"Ignorant woman," Dogar spat. "She deserves it."
"Somebody's in for a court martial for this," Ryskar said
dryly.
"Show the ISD on the main display," Xar ordered. In response a
view of the Devious appeared, the
ship beginning to pull the Modular Conveyor into its expansive hangar via
tractor beam.
"It's all over now," Dogar murmured. "The countdown's
already begun."
Taryn watched the secondary monitor show the transport
being brought inside and secured for boarding. To think that crazy Speaker
thought her foolish enough to believe his ludicrous idea.
"Ship's secured," the commodore pointed out. "Boarding now."
"Excellent," she sighed. "Move us away from the planet
now. There's not much more we can do until reinforcements arrive. The NI fleet
could show up at any moment, and we must be prepared to jump out." Their starfighter units had been depleted, and the planet’s
shields were back up. They were effectively at a stalemate. The Devious would have to move away from
Tralaria in order to get past the jamming and get a signal out Corward.
"Affirmative," her officer replied. "We're already
underway."
"Uh, sir, I think we've got a problem," one of the crew
reported. "The boarding crew is reporting. The cargo manifest was hacked.
There's nothing onboard, after all."
"What?" she exclaimed. "That's impossible! We checked
it!"
A new voice spoke up. "Ma’am, I'm reading an energy spike building
up inside the transport."
Taryn Darl spun
around to stare at the officer that had spoken. "It can’t be..." That
pathetic moron hadn't lied... "Get it out of here, now!" she shouted.
"Working on it!" the commodore answered, running over to the
console the other officer.
"It's going critical!" the officer shouted.
Taryn watched the secondary display in horror.
She hoped it wasn’t going to hurt…
The
blaring alarms in the Devious’ hangar
bay were nearly deafening as the crew started to work on removing the ship from
its docking position. People were running around everywhere, rushing to
complete their tasks or trying to get away from the blaring alarms emanating
from the ship itself and the hangar around them. One crew member stopped to watch, mesmerized, as the transport's alarms suddenly
stopped and all its exterior lights began flashing.
"No one can
defeat the Eyes of Elfodd," an electronic-sounding, recorded voice came over the
ship's external speakers. "The Eyes
of Elfodd are the future of the galaxy!"
Then a bright light seemed to emanate from the ship. Time slowed, as a
line of light covered his vision, growing, spreading out to consume
everything...
A massive explosion ripped through the Devious, destroying the centerline in a
huge fireball. The incredible force of the blast actually propelled bow of ship
forward and away from the rest of the vessel. The explosion engulfed the rest
of the ship, obscuring it from view. Then a bright flash emanated from the
center of the flames as the ship's solar-ionization reactor went critical. A
second, much more powerful explosion decimated the rest of the ship, a double-shockwave
spreading out from the center of the temporary supernova. The wave spread out,
the explosion slowly dissipating into a cloud of dust and gas. Moments later, nothing
remained of the Imperial Star Destroyer but a billion speckles of space dust.
* * *
Epilogue
Speaker's Office
Senate
Hall
1320
Hours
Sector Admiral D’larit grinned as
he watched the Diktat load his things into a heavy carry-bag. "What a way
to start a term in office, wouldn’t you say?”
Xar paused to look up at Ryskar, giving a short laugh. "Yeah, I
guess you are right. But next time I think will let someone else handle this."
Ryskar nodded. "So you're heading back to Varnus then?"
The dark-haired man nodded. Ryskar could see the tiredness in his eyes,
and he hoped he wasn’t burning out yet. His term had just begun, and he had
nearly six months to go until elections would be held again.
"I
need to get back," Xar stated. "There is still a lot of work to do
there. Lots of things to decide." He stared ahead
at nothing, as if seeing something else. "Besides, I need time to rest a
bit,” he whispered.
“You, rest? Never,” Ryskar said, and they both smiled.
"Well you've got to admit it’s been crazy so far. I wonder what's
in store for us the next few months. Who would have thought we would make it
this far?”
"Actually, I admit did," Ryskar said candidly. "But it
really is a good note to get started on. The whole city's in celebration. The
entire NI is breathing a collective sigh of relief. We've gotten rid of
virtually all the spies and other disloyalties we knew were here. We've
defeated our biggest threat yet, and have established ourselves as a separate,
sovereign government."
“True. Now if we can just lay low for a while longer, we will be
solidified and cohesive enough to stand proudly out here.”
“Agreed. And that reminds me: are you sure it’s
safe to go back? What about those would-be assassins?”
Xar looked back up at him and shook his head. “Alyx
and Gaius are doing a good job ratting them out. With their failure here, I am
confident we have them on the run now. Besides, if I cannot survive on my own
home world, where else could I?”
Ryskar nodded knowingly. He missed his home on Thyferra,
too, but he expected the intrigues there would make Varnus look like a model of
peaceful society. “I’m sure things will be quiet until the next Senate
session,” he conceded. “And I’m sure you have a Jedi Order that needs attending
to. How is that proceeding, if I may ask?”
“Progressing fast. The Palace has been totally
rebuilt, along with most of the city, and we have decided to launch several
houses out of the main body of the Order, not just old Ar’Kell. Our numbers are
growing and our own Jedi are getting stronger. New members are joining every
week. In fact, I am surprised there are so many Force-Sensitives
in Epsilon Sector. It is almost as if there is a strong history of Jedi
presence here.”
Ryskar nodded. He’d lost a few of his officers to Xar’s Jedi, as well,
when the members discovered they could learn to use the Force. He didn’t resent
it though; the more Jedi the NI had, the better. They
were, ultimately, the best defense they had against potential threats. “I am
very glad of your work on Varnus, Xar.”
“Thank you,” the other man said, looking surprised and sincere. “How about your own fleet?”
Ryskar smiled. “We’re ready for anything. If anything else threatens the
NI, I promise you the DLSF will be the first to respond.”
“I am glad to hear that. It is my hope that the various factions within
the NI will soon reach the point where they act not as individual groups, but
in unity one cohesive government.”
“That day is coming, Xar,” Ryskar assured him. “Just wait for it. It’ll
take time to bring some of the other leaders around.”
The door opened again behind Ryskar, and he turned as Maarek Stele
entered. He exchanged a friendly salute with the man, who walked up to the
desk, grinning.
"Afternoon," he said. "I hear Mathis' come out of his
coma."
Xar nodded. "The doctor said he is going to be fine. Maybe better than ever. When I told him everything that
happened after he awoke, he asked me why we hadn’t saved any for him.”
"That's Mathis," Ryskar agreed.
"Good flying out there, Maarek," Xar told him. "I heard
you got Remmac."
Maarek nodded. "Yeah, that score's been settled. And I think I may
have found some candidates for that squadron I'm forming. Delta Squadron's got
some pretty good guys. With training, they could be really good."
"You will have to talk to the Senate about taking their guardian
squadron," Ryskar said, smiling. "They're practically heroes now. As
are you, I understand. You've proved your worth - and loyalty - to just about
everyone, now. Glad to have you with us." He extended his hand, which
Stele shook heartily.
"Thanks."
Ryskar turned to look at Xar. “Have a safe journey back to Varnus – both
of you. I’ll see you again in about a month.”
Xar shook his hand also. “I am sure we will have many positive things to
report. There is a bright future ahead for all of us.”
“Until that time, then.”
With that the three comrades parted ways, heading out to solidify their
own units – and return to business as usual – for a few months of relative
peace and quiet. No more word was heard from COMPNOR or from the Imperial
Remnant, reassuring the NI leaders that they were safe and secure in their
haven in Epsilon Sector. But not everything was as smooth as they might have
hoped.
* * *
Grathkar Korealis smiled. Not
because of the after-action reports that he received from the few survivors of
the attack on Varnus and his agents on Tralar. His losses had stung, certainly.
But the object before him more than made up for the entire cost of the
operation. While his main forces had attacked Varnus openly, a secret force had
broken into the treasure vaults and taken a single, special artifact. His new artifact. Yes, the Holocrons
and Null Spheres and other gadgets secreted away there were interesting, but
nothing compared to what was before him. The Scepter of Karanishma,
with the ability to give a Jedi sight across space incalculable, to see the
past, the present, a thousand possible futures. His pathetic forces didn't
understand the scope of their victory; they thought they'd lost. But oh no,
they'd won a great victory this day. The loss of most of his resources could be
made up; he already contacted a powerful pirate group for a prospective
alliance. He chuckled that that thought, and couldn't stop. Yes, dire days were
indeed ahead for the New Imperium. He cackled harder. His men stared at him
wide-eyed, probably wondering why he could be laughing after such a tragic
loss. Probably thinking he was insane. The thought made him laugh harder still.
Tears rolled down his cheeks, but he couldn't stop. He didn't stop for hours.
The End
of
Grave Affairs
Written by Joshua
Ausley
Copyright 1999
Next in The
Return: The Search for Kurt
The
first major NI Run-on story, this story involves the Jedi's search for the
former Warden, Kurt. Having left in search of what was rumored to be the last
untouched Sith Temple, he mysteriously vanishes, as does the search party sent
to retrieve him. It's up to the Jedi Warden Nico and a handpicked team of Jedi
to find how deeply the intrigue goes. Passing through multiple harrowing
experiences, from a run-in with the Ssi-Ruuvi to
capture by an elite servant of the Emperor, the team will uncover the truth
behind Kurt's disappearance... and have their first major encounter with an
Altarin'Dakor Jedicon Warrior!
And following in
The Return:
Glimpse of Shadows
The
deranged Doctor Borowen and the maddened Dark Jedi
Master Estod have teamed up with a powerful, evil
being known as Turles. Their goal: to gain Immortality. And it will take
everything that the SoH has to stop them.