TftF Tale I: Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The crimson sun was low on the horizon as the city of Oradin came into view, shadows heavy in the details of the city as people still bustled about the street. All landing procedures complete, the Nova Hound began to slow as it lowered closer to the docking bay. Steam hissed from its body as the ship finally touched ground and moaned slightly as it came to a rest, a small piece of the black with blue trimmed hull plating dropping to the ground with a loud clatter that scared away a few vermin creeping in the shadows. The inner machinations of the craft began to whir and steam puffed out once more as the landing ramp achingly descended and three silhouettes appeared from the lighted interior and exited. It was Captain Marikk who took the lead, hands tucked away in the pockets of his jacket, with Sillek and Craeldo closely in tow.

Marikk glanced about from side to side and then reached an arm behind his neck and stretched. “Well then, where to, Crae?”

“Hmm, let’s see.” The Rodian scanned the flimsiplast printout he had been carrying and studied his notes. “Villie didn’t tell me much, only that the contact would meet us at a tapcafe next to the docking bay’s admin office. Apparently our friend has made trouble with the local authorities and needs emergency passage off Brentaal to Tatooine, no questions asked.”

“And as for our payment?”

“Will be transferred to our account as soon as we reach Tat.”

With a broad smile, the captain patted Craeldo on the shoulder of his leathery, scale-like long coat and waved them all on. “Well then gentlemen, what say we get a drink and see what becomes of our friend, whoever it is.”

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Night came not long after the trio had departed, leaving the area now bathed in the bright luminescence given off by the city’s buildings. The Lonely Chuba tapcafe was bustling with activity, and with the blaring sounds of some unidentifiable music and the cheers and jeers of blastball fans inside, Crae, Sillek and Marikk decided to take to a small, umbrella-shielded table on the front patio. A lone ebony MixRMastR bartender waded through the air out of the bar’s main entrance, photoreceptors glowing in the dark as it made its way and finally came to rest upon their table. A compartment in the droid’s chest slid open and a small tray extended, the three drinks resting upon it, not a drop spilled.

“Here you go, sirs,” the droid warbled in a deep, monotone voice. “One Chandrilan Herb Tea, one Elshandruu Pica Thundercloud, and one Jargridian Brandy. Thank you very much, sirs.”

Reaching into his pocket, Marikk withdrew a few credchips from his pocket and placed it on the droid’s tray before taking the drinks and dispersing them accordingly. The droid seemed to perform a brief bow upon its receipt of the credits and then returned back into the cafe. Glass in hand, the Duro lifted it into the air, quickly being joined by Sillek’s tea and Craeldo’s  Thundercloud, brief illuminations of red and blue appearing at random in the thick foam of the drink. “Down the hatch, boys!”

“Do we have any idea when our guest will be arriving?” Sillek inquired, lifting the tea up through his high collar and sipping it slowly.

“No, not really,” Craeldo replied. “He knows who to look for, so once he finds us we’ll know.”

“Well then, guess we best get comfortable, since we don’t know how long we shall be waiting.”

Craeldo eased back in his seat, slipping the jacket off his shoulders, and dived snout first into his drink, much to the humor of the captain. “Whoa there, boy, slow down. I’d like you at least half sober in case some trouble goes down.”

With a nod he withdrew his mouth from the brew and wiped a flashing mustache from his snout. Almost simultaneously, an older looking human came running into the area and crashing into their table, sending the Thundercloud flying. The old man, a rather clean-cut looking fellow with stark white hair, neat looking tan dress and a small wooden box under his arm, jumped to his feet and quickly grabbed onto Crae’s shoulder. “My pardon, sir, but please, you must help me! There are men pursuing me and I must get as far away from here as quickly as I can.”

Wrenching free of the old man’s grasp, he slipped his jacket back on as he and his compatriots stood to their feet. “Ah, you must be our man. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I am Craeldo, Villie’s contact, and these gentlemen are Sillek, our unofficial chief of security, and Captain Marikk Danar, our group’s lead.”

Sillek bowed his head curtly as Marikk stretched out his hand and took the gentleman’s hand in greeting. “Yes indeed, a pleasure, really, mister…..”

“Professor….Professor Constantin Ardina.” He looked quickly from side to side, checking out the area, seeming rather agitated as he spoke. “It is a pleasure to meet you all, truly, but we mustn’t tarry too much longer or we may be…”

“You there! Halt!”

With a cringe, all four of them turned to see a stern faced Imperial officer come running up the avenue between the caf and the docking bay, followed close behind by a contingent of twenty stormtroopers.

“…caught by the Imperials.”

The crowd that had congregated both inside and outside the Lonely Chuba quickly dispersed upon the appearance of the Imperial troopers, leaving but the professor and the three mercenaries as the center of their attention. Marikk slapped his hand upon his forehead and shook his head, “Not the Imperials AGAIN!”

“Stay where you are! By Imperial decree, I place you all under arrest. Lay down your weapons, step forward with your hands up and no one will be hurt.”

“Well then, with all due respect to Imperial law, sir,” Marikk began, a wry grin upon his face as he raised one hand above his head, unholstered his blaster and went to lower it upon the ground. However, at the last moment, he jerked his pistol up, shot and blasted down two of the umbrellas on the other tables between them and the troopers providing some cover to escape, “I’m afraid we can’t stay for your little party. Sorry.”

A flurry of crimson bolts ripped through the area, quickly leaving the fallen umbrellas and anything else they came in contact with in shreds, as Marikk and company broke away at full speed for the docking bay, returning fire as they ran.

“Man!” Captain Marikk yelled, diving in through the bay’s entranceway. “What is it with us and Imperials lately?”

Craeldo smiled, taking the opposite side of the doorway from Marikk as the Quarren and the professor made their way through and sprinted for the ship. “Guess we’re just lucky.”

“Yeah, well let’s see how our luck holds out.” Shooting off a few more blasts, the Duro backed up from his position and sprinted towards the landing ramp. “Now let’s get outta here!”

Racing to the lift tube and up the ship’s four levels, Captain Marikk ran as quickly as he could down the bridge corridor and almost literally leapt into his seat. His fingers flew from switch to button across the control board, and, with his natural piloting skill as a Duro, making a job that would have originally taken two into a job for one. Holding down the main button upon the comlink, he pulled back on the controls and activated the engines. “Everybody hold on to something,” Marikk called out, still working away. “We’re gonna have to make a quick exit.”

The ship’s engines whirred to life as the ship slowly began to take off, but within a few gut wrenching seconds, they dropped back down from what little altitude they had gained and impacted with the ground, a resounding crash echoing both inside and outside the ship. The hull let out a moan as it protested the sudden stress put upon it as smoke began to fill the bridge. The captain’s heart sank. “Dorm, what’s going on down there!? What happened!?”

“I am working on it,” the translator came back over the speaker moments later, the clanging of tools and parts dropping to the deck plating echoing in the background. “I am afraid my former repairs were quite slipshod before, for I was just trying to get us going. Apparently we are paying the price for that mistake now.”

“Great,” Marikk muttered, dropping back from the controls into his seat with despair. “Well, is everyone else fine?”

“Physically, yes,” came Sillek next, his tone sounding dire, “but we now have a bigger problem.”

All he could do was laugh in self-defeat as the captain watched the smoke billow around him. “Well, what’s problem number two?”

“I am in the doorway to the lower lounge. We’ve got Stormtroopers coming up the entry ramp and into the vestibule. There’s about six thus far.”

“I’m gonna need you to handle them, Sillek. We gotta give Dormanin as much time as he needs to get the engines repaired.”

“I will do as you say, Captain.”

Standing back to his feet, Marikk leaned over the control console and peered out the front viewport. To his sadness, the contingent that had followed them from the tapcafe now looked to have been joined at least ten more troopers, all of which were now surrounding the ship. “Let’s just hope we have long enough.”

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From the shadows of the lounge entranceway, the Quarren peered out, his face mostly covered by the high collar of his cloak as he watched the incoming invaders.

“Fan out across the ship,” the voice of the Imperial officer called out from below the entry ramp. “Find Professor Ardina. Take those who come peaceably into custody. Kill any who resist.”

The trooper closest to the ramp saluted, rifle in hand, giving a brisk “Yes, sir” and then turned to pass on orders to the rest of his compatriots. Sillek’s blue eyes narrowed as he observed the crowd and listened intently to their plans. He knew he had to stop them before they entered the lift, for it would only complicate matters if they actually made it to the rest of the ship. Therefore, there was only one course of action left for him to take.

Silently he strode out of the entranceway, as if materializing from the shadows. His evergreen cloak flowed down over his body, leaving only his head and the bottom of his legs visible as he moved forward. The suddenness of his appearance caught the stormtroopers completely by surprise as all six snapped to attention and readied their weapons.

“You there, raise your hands into the air and lay down any weapons.”

Sillek said nothing, merely continued forward to the center of the chamber in which they stood and froze. The lead trooper, obviously growing agitated, motioned his troopers in as they formed a tight circle around him.

“I’ll say it again, raise your hands in the air and lay down your weapons!”

Again, Sillek said or did nothing, merely observed the white armored soldiers around him with his ice-blue eyes. The tenseness of the situation was near tangible as the leader once more spoke up.

“This is your last warning! Raise your hands, lay down your weapons and you will not be harm- -”

Before the stormtrooper captain could complete his statement, the Quarren mercenary made his move. With a motion as quick as lightning and as fluid as water, his cloak flew open and the sword which had been hidden at his side was unsheathed in a gleaming flash. The stormtrooper immediately in front of him was at a loss as the barrel of his rifle dropped to the ground, resounding like thunder in the silence as it impacted with the deck plating. Then, almost as quickly, the room erupted into blaster fire at the command of the leader.

In the initial chaos, two troopers found themselves at the wrong end of their allies’ assaults as they crumpled to the ground, blast marks smoking upon their chest plates, as Sillek took to the air. Landing behind the first trooper he had disarmed, back to back, he flipped his sword backwards in his hand and stabbed under his own arm, piercing the trooper at the back base of his ribs. He then, in a continuously fluid motion, spun around and slashed perpendicularly against the soldier’s lower back. The sickening crack of the blade against the arm seemed to drown out the sounds of incoming blasts as they impacted with this trooper’s chest as well. Making the most of the moment, Sillek used the falling trooper as a springboard; split kicked two other troopers in front of opposite walls while in the air, and landed staring face to face with their captain.

It was a tense situation as the two warriors circled each other, ready to strike at any second. Then, without moment’s notice, three almost simultaneous blaster bolts rang from his rifle barrel but were quickly deflected by the near invisible maneuvers of the Quarren’s blade. Sillek then did something unexpected, which sent a chill through the Stormtrooper’s body. Eyes examining the blade momentarily as wisps of smoke rose from small scorch marks, he returned his gaze to his opponent, lowered his sword with both hands to his right side, parallel to the ground, and gave a ghastly grin, as best he could, as he curled his tentacles up. Shifting his feet, ready to charge forward, his stance was thwarted as the entire ship began to move, the engines humming to life as she began to take altitude once more.

“That is it! I have got it!”

Captain Marikk almost squealed with delight over the comm, coming on only seconds later after Dorm. “Hold on, everyone, we’re gonna try this again!”

Those gathered in the vestibule were thrown about, the bodies of those who couldn’t hold on to anything sliding out the entryway and down to the ever distancing docking bay. The leader and his two remaining compatriots, those two still dazed, grasped onto whatever they could on the wall, the same as Sillek, as the ship took an almost a completely vertical ascent into the Brentaal sky. When one of the two tried to raise his blaster, the weight of both armor and equipment caused him to loose his grip and he fell into the air, a well timed kick from Sillek making sure that he too would promptly exit their ship.

As they finally leveled out, the one remaining trooper besides the captain dropped to his feet and charged forward almost immediately, swinging his rifle to club the Quarren over the head, but, aware of his approach, Sillek quickly ducked, tripped him and sent the trooper over his back to slam into his commander and into the wall beside the opening, slowly being pulled by the pressure out by the vacuum. Seeing his chance, Sillek reached down and grabbed his comlink. “Captain! Pull the ship into a vertical ascent one more time!”

Nearly immediately, the perspective of the room changed once more and the merc flew backwards, pounding against the wall closest the lounge entranceway. His was a better fate as, at the same time, both troopers slid from their place and out the entryway, resigned to their fate far, far below.

The ship, again, returned to normal within a minute or so and Sillek stood from his crumpled position and stretched, cracking his back slightly before, with feet firmly against the ground, he made his way over and slammed his fist into the door controls, sealing the entry hatch. A pleased sigh escaped his mouth as the pressure in the vestibule returned to normal. Picking his sword up from the ground, he slowly resheathed it, closed his cloak around him once more and made his way to the lift tube. For now, at least, the trouble was over.

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The air held an icy chill deep within the shadowy, cavernous chamber. The boot- clicks echoed in the stark silence as a lone figure, draped in black, made her way down the central pathway to where rose a central black dais high into the air. She lowered herself and kneeled at the bottom step of the platform, a single lock of copper hair falling from beneath her hood.

“You have summoned me, Master?”

“Yes.” The cold rasp echoed through the chamber as the throne planted upon the center of the dais rotated around without motion from its occupant, framed against the nighttime expanse of Imperial Center through the viewport behind it. From the darkness, the deathly pale face of the Emperor stared down at her, his yellow eyes piercing her very soul from their aged receptacles.

“Word has reached me that a scientist from the University of Coruscant has discovered something long buried on the world of Brentaal that would be of great value to me. I would like you to go and retrieve this from him for me… Mara Jade.”

Two emerald eyes stared up from beneath her cowl and locked with those of her master. “And the life of the professor?”

“Let his fate be the same as that of his home of Alderaan,” the Emperor responded, matter-of-factly, as his throne shifted around once more to its previous position. “Imperial Security has erased all knowledge of his discovery from the University’s systems and those there who know already have been taken into custody. This professor is the last link in the chain that needs to be undone. Now go.”

Bowing her head down to her knee in respect, she rose quickly; cloak molding and shifting to her form as she then turned on heal and departed. Whatever her master required of her, she would do with all her devotion. Thus was the life of the Emperor’s Hand. So it has been said, and so it shall be done.