His unconscious state was no longer troubled by the disturbing dreams of Ijo Critus and the banquets with incredibly poor health care standards. In fact, his state was no longer troubled by anything at all until he woke up to the feeling of his head being split open as if by a massive hammer. It was the clear result of being stunned so many times over the last few hours, though Calen more acutely remembered it as the same feeling he’d had the morning after he’d spent a night out with his classmates upon their graduation from the Academy.
He did his best to force the feeling from his mind and focus more on figuring out where he was. The blinding light made that difficult by sight, so he tried by hearing...and was treated with a vast, empty void. Feeling, too, was restricted as he seemed to be unable to move his hands. A weight was pressing down on them at the wrists, yet his arms ached with the soreness of strain. His arms were being forced above his head. Again. His vision finally began to clear, and he soon realized the truth of his surroundings - an Imperial interrogation chamber. ‘So, not dead. Still in Hell, though.’ Calen thought. It didn’t look like the ship, so it was likely he’d been transported from there to...somewhere else.
The doors as the far end of the room unlocked and a hissing followed as they slid open, revealing to him a man in an Imperial uniform. Calen recognized the swatches and code cylinders that signified the rank of a High Admiral. The man himself was clearly one who had seen his younger days some time ago, his hair was gray and his eyes a black that peered from sunken sockets. They reminded him of Ordos’, but they were an absence of something rather than its presence. The man stood there for the longest moment, appraising him. After a few moments of neither of them speaking, he began to click his tongue.
“Y’know, you can stop that whenever you like.” Calen groaned out. “The reverberation off the walls is terrible. Seriously, if you’ve never been stunned, I wouldn’t reco-”
“Do you ever stop talking?” The man asked. His tongue clicked. Calen’s brow quirked with the irritation and pain.
“I don’t know, you’re the one keeping me alive.” Calen said. “I’m guessing that is why I’m alive, right? Because you said so. After all, you’re the High Admiral.”
“High Admiral Maltus Ayro. Commander of the Minos Fleet and the Governor of the Minos System.” The officer said.
“Isn’t a Moff supposed to be Governor over a system?” Calen asked, sure things hadn’t changed that much in the Imperial rank and file in just a year. It seemed he struck a nerve with that comment, as he watched a twitch of anger twist the man’s face for a moment, but only for a moment. Likewise, Calen had a temporary feeling of satisfaction...but only temporary.
“My predecessor suffered an unfortunate accident and my superiors have seen it prudent that I take his place.” Ayro said. “More to the point, however, is the question of you and why you believe that I would have gone out of my way to keep you alive.”
“Standard protocol is to shoot deserters or traitors on sight, no questions asked.” Calen said. “I’m pretty sure the Empire hasn’t gotten that soft.”
“The Empire is as strong as it has ever been.” Ayro corrected sharply. “We are merciless to our enemies: pirates, Rebels, and the like. But we are also very, very generous and rewarding to our own.”
“I’m pretty sure that I know where I fit in.” Calen muttered under his breath.
“Then there's no reason to keep you dangling from the ceiling, is there, Calen?” Ayro asked, earning a blank stare from the younger man left hanging by the chain.
“...you wanna run that by me again?"
“It was not so difficult to discover your true identity as you might believe, Recruit Darkhaven.” Ayro told him. “The hands of the Empire reach far, and you are the son of one of the Empire’s most dedicated servants. I dare say even the Emperor himself would overlook a...lapse in judgement...from a promising talent of such a pedigree.”
“That’s quite a dare.” Calen said snidely.
“I’ve read your record.” Ayro went on, giving his snark no mind. “Top of your class in every piloting exam. Top five percentile in astrogating. Commissioned with the rank of Group Captain right out of the Academy. With the War going on, you could have made quite a name for yourself. You still could.”
“I’m really not following.” Calen sighed. If this was the torture, then it wouldn’t take too long to whittle him down at the rate Ayro was going.
“What is it that would make you desert in the first place?” Ayro asked. “Why would you run from all of that?”
"Do you really want to know?"
"I did ask, did I not? Answer the question, soldier."
A long moment of silence passed between the two, Calen dangling there by his wrists as he met the man eye to eye. Then, unblinking, he gave his answer.
“...I didn’t like the boots.” Calen answered. What followed was a long, long moment of silence between the two men. Silence resumed its place, the seconds ticking by between the two men. Calen say Ayro's eyes scanning him more intensely than the most intensive sensor sweep.
“...I’m being serious.” Ayro finally said, Calen unable to sure whether the man had been confounded by his words or had been waiting for a ‘genuine’ reply. Or, perhaps, both.
“So am I!” Calen shot back. “They pinched my toes and I still have blisters from those damned things. Good kriffing riddance.”
“You need to think hard about what I’m offering you, boy.” Ayro said. “A commission of your own. A place at my right hand. Why command a simple wing of TIEs when you could be commanding an entire fleet? And more? Your past sins washed away.” Calen took a moment to ponder this.
“What exactly would I have to do?” He asked.
“Tell me what you saw on the data card.” Calen knew a trap when he saw one, or at least he did in this particular case. He did his best to keep a neutral expression as he gazed upon the piercing visage of the Admiral.
“...what data card?”
“We know well that you and the fugitive Maddox Ordos have been seeking the data card and the two that go with it.” Ayro said.
“Okay, so...there are three of these things?” Calen asked. “Weird. I was just looking for a murderer.”
“You can drop the act. We know.” Ayro said. “We know that you’ve been looking for it and that you or Ordos has most likely had a contact figure out how to get past the encryption.”
“And there’s encryption on it?!” Calen feigned stupidity and ignorance, giving an almost melodramatic gasp at the Admiral's words. Seeing that twitch of anger in Ayro’s features again, he could not help but grin just a little. A vein along the man’s forehead seemed to be almost pulsing.
“What did you see on the starmap?” Ayro said, his voice dropping low.
“Oh, so there’s a starmap, then? I’m having a hard time keeping track of all this.” Calen decided to push it just a little further, and was immediately responded to with a loud shout.
“ENOUGH!” Ayro’s fist slammed into the nearest wall panel, the frame buckling under the sudden assault. “I have not spent more than thirty years in this bantha’s anus of a system to have Montgomery deny me what is rightfully mine from beyond the Sithspitting grave!” At that moment, Calen had been grinning from ear to ear, seeing how Ayro had been worked up into a frenzy.
“...what did you just say?” That grin faded. Quickly.
“Oh, he never told you, did he?” Now, Ayro was the one who smiled. “Of the heist of the Grand Magnificence?” The memories of the Captain’s final words ‘The Grand! The Grand!’ came to mind again. Calen tensed. “Surely he would have mentioned the greatest job he ever pulled, no?”
“No.” Calen said.
“The Grand Magnificence.” Ayro told him, pulling up a black metal stool and sitting on it, sitting just out of reach of the prisoner. “A casino ship, back during the time of the Republic. It was her maiden voyage and she was armed to the nines to keep anyone from taking a credit that wasn’t theirs, whether they were on or off the ship.” Calen listened. Caius had spoken of some of his jobs back before he’d gone “straight”, but this had not been one of them. “Seventy-five million Republic credits, untraceable, were just sitting on that rig.”
“So, you were in on that, then?”
“Oh, yes. Caius and I were partners. We had a small group together, each one with their own little skillset that was good for the work.” Ayro said. “We planned out an immaculate heist. And it all seemed to go to plan...until the Republic security teams started to pick us all off. Soon, a team of fifteen was just down to three. Caius managed to get up to the flight deck and eject the majority of the ship. Just him and the treasury. We got out, but he managed to get that ship into the orbit of a nearby planet, Pergitor. When he did, he crashed the damn thing, and a groundquake buried it. After thirty years, it still lies there.”
“Wait, you...you waited thirty years for all this? Why?” Calen asked.
“Caius was clever. Too damn clever for his own good.” Ayro said. “Stuck a tracer on it, said we could come back for it later. Rigged it and gave us each a datacard to its location, so that none of us would be cut out.”
“I’m not seeing the problem.”
“He split the coordinates up!” Ayro spat, the anger resurfacing. “Wanted to be sure no one could find it but him!” Calen threw his head back and started laughing. “Shut your damn mouth, boy! I haven’t spent my life here to be mocked by the likes of you!”
“Why? What are you gonna do?” Calen asked. “Stun me?” But, he’d forgotten where he was for that brief moment and, as the look of anger on Ayro’s face faded away into a disturbingly placid calm, Calen suddenly felt a lot less brave than his laughter at the situation beforehand had let him be.
“No.” Ayro said. “No, I shall do far, far worse than that. I hope you will enjoy this place, Calen. Because you’re never going to leave it. But then, no one leaves the Gesaril Prison. Ever.” The Admiral rose, turning to leave. “But I tell you what, because I am a fair man...every few days, I’ll be back to check up on you. Who knows? Perhaps a little experience here will change your mind.”
The doors opened and two Stormtroopers entered. Ayro pressed a button and Calen once more succumbed to gravity as he fell to the floor, his hands still secured at the wrists by a metal restraint bar. The two troopers rather roughly forced him to his feet by his arms.
“Yeah, I’m really feeling some doubt here.” Calen quipped.
“Whether you help me or not is of little consequence.” Ayro said. “I will get the rest of the map and I will get what I am due. And, to top it all off, I shall bring the Emperor himself a great gift.”
“A great gift?” Calen asked as he was pulled from the room. Ayro shot him a twisted grin that made Calen’s skin crawl.
“You’ll see…” Ayro said, just before the doors hissed their way closed and Calen was escorted further down the hallway. He was brought down to a lift and carried down more levels than he bothered to count before it opened up and he was brought down yet another corridor and into a large enclosure with several other prisoners present - all of them in those blue and silver jumpsuits. The restraint bar was removed just before he was forced into the cage, the force field being deactivated behind him. Calen sighed and moved forward into the area. Already, he could feel the eyes on him, those of various prisoners of various species. They were sizing him up. The ‘New Meat’ as Nine had called him.
He was suddenly nudged back as he impacted against a bulky form.
“S-Sorry.” Calen, still trying to get his footing, stammered out the word and looked forward to face the gaze of a race he’d hoped he’d never see again - a Gamorrean. Thankfully, this time, without an electro-pike in hand...although it looked no more friendly. “H-Hey, easy...it was a mistake.” Calen backed away slightly, knowing hand to hand he’d do little good against the physically superior foe. The choice was taken away from him as a large, hairy, black and brown hand slammed down against the Gamorrean from a higher point.
“Hope that lesson sinks in for you, Piggy. Now get lost.” Calen was thrilled to hear the voice of Maddox Ordos again. He turned to face him, seeing that his savior had been a familiar Wookiee who was in tow with him.
“Thanks, Rook. I owe ya one.” Calen said, giving a relieved sigh. The Wookiee barked out a few sounds.
“He says you’re welcome, and try not to show that much fear in the future.” Ordos said. He clapped the younger man on the shoulder. “You alright?”
“Oh, y’know. Multiple stunnings. A few broken bones. Slight loss of dignity. No change there.” Calen told him, moving with the two of them toward a far wall that Ordos and Rook had clearly claimed as their little corner. “So...do we have a plan?”
“Plan for what?” Ordos asked.
“Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re in prison.” Calen said. “I thought we might go about changing that.”
“Well, it’s gonna be a tough sell.” Ordos said. “Nobody gets off of Gesaril.”
“Well, being the first would be a nice change of pace.” Calen said. “The Admiral is not exactly someone I’d like to be stuck under the thumb of for long.”
“You and me both.” Ordos said. “He questioned you, too?”
“Yeah. He knows about the data card. And apparently, there are three pieces of it.” Calen said, harkening back to Glin’s words of there only being a third of the data needed for a complete map on the card Caius had had. “He said that he and Caius were partners at some point, involved in the heist of a casino ship.”
“The Grand Magnificence, he mentioned.” Ordos said with a vague hint of irritation in his voice. Calen had a feeling that, for Ayro mentioning it, Caius never had to Ordos either. “Well, seventy-five million Republic credits or not, we didn’t get into this for that. Daheel’s most likely not dead.”
“But you shot him!” Calen protested.
“In the shoulder. Didn’t get him dead on.” Ordos grimaced, he shook his head. “Regardless, there’s something else going on here. If Ayro knows about the operations on Pergitor, then he’s either been keeping tabs on the Church and their hijinks or he’s got a hand in it. Either way, whatever’s on that ship is bad news.”
“What? Credits?”
“No, no, kid.” The older man shook his head. “If Ayro’s story lines up, then Caius wouldn’t have just dropped a payload like that without a good reason. And I’d bet my skin that it has something to do with that Heart that Critus and his fanatics are looking for.”
“Well, before we can do anything about any of that, we have to get out of here.” Calen pointed out.
“Rook has some friends coming.” Ordos said, thumbing toward the Wookiee, who gave a few confirming growls.
“...so, what do we do?” Calen asked.
“We wait.”
“How’d he even get here, anyway? Last time we saw him, he was handing in Beebus.”
“Beebus, apparently, paid off just the right people in the ISB to slide out...and get Rook here on an expired license charge.” Ordos said, giving the Wookiee a look. The creature gave a few more growls and what Calen took to be a sort of sheepish grin. “A few thrown around Stormtroopers here and there and, long story short, he was thrown in here with four life sentences.”
“Delightful.” Calen sighed, settling back against the wall.
“Something eating ya?” Ordos asked, looking to him.
“On the transport ship that brought me here, I got out...there was this Abednedo. He got some help from an outside ship and we did a jailbreak.” Calen said. “He rooted through their terminal for something...it was a part of the map, I think.” Ordos leaned back against the wall, absorbing this information. “I...think he might have been a Rebel.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He wouldn’t use his name. Or ask me mine.” Calen said. “And, when the guard managed to stun me, he called me…‘Rebel scum’, Like he thought we were working together.”
“Technically, you were to take over the ship, no?”
“That really isn’t the point.”
“No, but you’re right. That is curious.” Ordos rubbed his chin. “Thoughts for later, however. For now, we have waiting to do.”
“Great!” Calen rolled his eyes. “I hate waiting.” And wait they did. Calen quickly learned that the communal area was the only area they were allowed into as a group, and even then only with the other prisoners on their level. Otherwise, they had their cells...if one could generously call them cells. They were rooms that were barely big enough for him to comfortably stand in, with a lumpy bed on a small metal cot occupying most of the space that wasn’t granted to a toilet. The smell was not at all a pleasant one. Of course, that was all to be expected from an Imperial prison.
For the first night, he ignored it, and the next morning was brought back into the communal area where he rejoined his fellows. Food was dropped into the place thrice daily, and they got whatever scraps they could get of the dry, tasteless rations and water. This cycle continued for four days and, thanks to both Ordos’ speechcraft and Rook's Wookiee build and demeanor...the three suffered nothing more than murderous looks from those who joined them in the broad pit. Calen couldn't say he was complaining about that.
The day came, however, when the force field opened up again and two Stormtroopers entered.
“Prisoner One-Nine-Seven-Seven. Present yourself.” One of them ordered. There wasn’t a soul that moved in the place, mostly because they knew disobedience would mean a rain of blasterfire from both their level and from above. “Now!”
Calen nodded to both Ordos and Rook (who nodded back) before he moved forward, hands raised. “I’m here.” He was immediately clapped in another restraint and lead from the area, down to a lift and up to another corridor, then another. Finally, he was led into an all too familiar room - an interrogation chamber. He was moved to be secured from the ceiling.
“Okay, is this really necessary?” Calen protested as he was hung up once more.
“Be quiet, scum!” One of the troopers said, smacking the butt of his blaster into Calen's side for good measure. “Wait here, the Admiral will be along to see you shortly.” Without another word, the two left. Calen supposed that this would be one of Ayro’s little “check ups” to see if he’d changed his mind. The words “nothing doing” were likely to be the first from his mouth at the rate his stay was going. For now, he could do little more than just hang there...so he took the time to see if he could slip free of the restraint bar. That, at least, would be something he could do.
Up on the command deck, however, Ayro was becoming increasingly annoyed at the current turn of events.
“I’ve attempted to speed our excavations, but they’re going to take time. Without the tracker active, we are digging blind.”
“I am aware that geology is not a skillset you are blessed with, but you’re telling me that finding someone who is is nigh impossible?” Ayro’s brow seemed arched by his skepticism alone.
“We’re at the far end of the galaxy, it’s not as if we can just call up for an expert from the Core at a moment’s notice.”
“I would think the Gauntlet would be able to reach farther than most, Tin Daheel.” Ayro said. “Or should I be looking for more adequately prepared allies?”
“Do not forget that it was you who came to my employer, Admiral.” The holographic image of the Twi’lek, his arm in a sling, shot back at him. “Not the other way around. It is you who need us in this endeavor, not we who need you.” Ayro’s vein looked as though it were about to burst from his flesh.
“You go digging in my Cluster without authorization, you get executed.” Ayro reminded him. “I could retract that authorization and then you would be in quite a spot, wouldn’t you?”
“I think even you would not be so foolhardy as to double-cross the Gauntlet.” The Twi’lek’s beady little eyes narrowed on the Admiral, who stiffened but otherwise did his best to keep his face blank as the side of a Star Destroyer. “And my employer has made it very, very clear to me that your...suggestions...as to how we operate will no longer be tolerated silently.” The nerve of him! “We shall keep you appraised of our efforts. If you should acquire the map, please do the same. Daheel out.” The blue light winked out, as did the image it projected. Ayro huffed in irritation, rubbing his temples.
“Sir?”
“What, Dax?” Once more, Lieutenant Dax was serving to bring him his reports.
“Prisoner One-Nine-Seven-Seven has been brought to the interrogation chamber as you requested.” Dax reported dutifully.
“Excellent. I shall see him now.” Ayro said, rising from his chair and journeying to the lift. “You have the command deck.”
The room itself, at the moment, was deathly quiet. Calen had given up trying to slide from the restraint bar. It simply wasn’t possible no matter how hard he tried to do so. His struggles in vain, he’d spent the time resolving himself to dealing with whatever torture Ayro had cooked up, trying his best to prepare himself for the worst...if he even could. He was jarred suddenly from his mental preparations by the sound of a knock. It was soft, small, just loud enough to be heard. Almost as if it had been made by a human child hitting the metal wall ponderously.
Calen felt his stomach tighten into a knot, wondering what a child could have done to warrant being trapped in a place like this. He heard the knock again, small, but loud.
“H-Hello?” Calen called out, realizing that the knocking was behind him.
“Will you hush?” He barely caught the words, but they certainly didn’t sound like a child. Indeed, it almost sounded like a woman...harshly croaking. The voice was rough and raspy, like it was processing Basic through a poorly-programmed vocabulator. Then came the sound, again behind him, of something metal falling to the floor. Looking back, or at least doing the best he could to do so over (or under) his shoulder, Calen saw that the vent behind him at ankle level had been forced open and a being was crawling out of it.
It was a short thing, barely to his waistline in height if he had been standing on his feet. Its skin was blue-green and scaly, with a plumage of brown-white feathers upon its head. Black pupils zeroed in on him from amber eyes, and the words he had heard before were coming from its hooked beak.
“What’s the matter? Never seen a Mrlssi before?” She, and it was a she, asked him.
“A what?” Calen asked, wondering what the probability was of having a variation on the same conversation in so many days.
“I guess that answers my question.” The bird-creature chripped, heading over to a terminal and using the three fingers of her right hand (each ending in a claw) to work the interface.
“Wait, if you’re letting me out, don’t-” Calen managed to get out right before the restraint bar released and he fell smack into the floor. Again.
“Ooh! Sorry!” The bird-creature winced as she preened her feathers a bit. “Must be a hair-trigger on that release mechanism.”
“I’ll bet.” Calen muttered as he rubbed his face in a vain attempt to alleviate the pain.
“Wait, you are...Calen, right?” The Mrlssi asked. “Sorry, the last three rooms I checked were all wrong and I realized I got this far and I wanted to be sure.”
“Depends on who wants to know.” Calen said, not entirely sure if this wasn’t some form of trick.
“A friend of a friend.” The woman said. “Call me Niyasa.” Calen wondered if this was the friend that Rook had been talking about. He wasn’t entirely sure how she was going to get them anywhere, but she’d been resourceful enough to find a way to break into the interrogation room. “And if you are, I happen to be the woman who’s about to get you out of here, Force-willing.”
“Well, thanks for the restraints at least.” Calen said, getting up. “And yeah, I’m Calen.”
“Splendid!” Niyasa beamed. “Like I said, last three rooms were all duds. Last one had a mean Trandoshan in there. Just promise you won’t try to tear my head off.”
“It’ll be hard, but I’ll give it my best try. Promise.” Calen’s voice smacked of sarcasm. Niyasa chirped out a laugh. “So, what’s the plan?”
“I’ve got a partner. She’s borrowing a ship as we speak.” Niyasa told him. “We just have to get you to it.”
“I have two friends who are here.” Calen said. “We need to get them out, too.”
“If we can. The boss made it clear to get out who we could.”
“The boss?”
“Another friend of a friend. You’ve met him.” Niyasa told him.
“Who?”
“Story for another time.” The Mrlssi padded over to the door, pressing the button that opened it and it gave as it slid open with that long hiss. “C’mon, quick.” Calen was only too happy to follow her down the corridor, passing cell after cell with her. His attempts to step quickly and quietly across the metal floor proved to be pointless when the two turned a corner and found themselves face to face with two Stormtroopers, who leveled their blasters at them.
“You there! Freeze!” One barked at them. Calen slowly raised both of his, but Niyasa raised only one, swiping it across the air before her with a casual flick of the wrist. When she did, Calen watched in amazement as one trooper was sent careening into the other. The two struck one another about the helmeted head and collapsed on the floor in a heap, rendered unconscious with the impact. Calen stared, mouth agape.
“H-How did you just-?” Calen started.
“There’s no time for that now.” Niyasa waved this off, going to one of the two unconscious troopers and pulling the restraining cuffs from his belt. “Get these two into that closet over there, strip the armor off of one.”
“Why bo-?”
“I’m sure the thought of me trying to lift and carry a grown man is funny to you, but you’re wasting time!” The Mrlssi waved him off. “Go. Closest. Change. I’ll keep watch.” Calen quickly knelt down and took up the first one’s crumbled body, moving over to the offered closet and chucking him into it, then getting the second and doing the same. Once inside, he quickly began to remove the armor of the second one..beginning to garb himself. It wasn't too different from TIE armor...
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