Star Wars Jedi Knight IV: Sith Empire

Chapter 33: Last Laugh

"This has been done with honor, without error, and by my choosing. Niathal out."

―Cha Niathal

Ruusan filled the viewport before Luke and Vestara as the loaned shuttle dropped out of hyperspace. Also filling the viewport was a Star Destroyer. This didn't bode well.

"I think you should be the one to hail them," Luke said. "I don't think the Sith down there would appreciate it if they knew I was headed their way."

As Vestara was opening her mouth to respond, the comm crackled to life. "Shuttle BD-248a, this is the Star Destroyer Ephemera. You are in a restricted area. Identify yourself, over." Luke just smirked as he guided the shuttle into it's approach angle, seemingly disregarding the message.

"How did you...?" Vestara asked, her voice trailing off.

"You forget I'm a Jedi Master." Luke said, his smirk growing into a smile. "But I don't need the Force to tell me that ensign is getting impatient."

The comm broke squelch again. "Shuttle BD-248a, identify yourself. Now."

With a bit of hesitancy, Vestara held down the talk button on the comm system and leaned forward to speak with more authority than she felt. "Ephemera this is Darth Fallax. Stand down. Now."

"Lady Fallax," The voice, now tinged with fear, came from the comm. "You have our apologies. We hadn't expected you here."

"No one does," Vestara responded before closing the comm channel. She released the talk button, and took a deep breath and she leaned back away from the comm controls.

"It's a bit different being on the other side, isn't it?" Luke asked as the planet loomed closer.

"You could say that," Vestara said. A few long seconds of silence passed awkwardly as Vestara declined to elaborate.

"This changes things a bit," Luke remarked. "It can either be you or me coming out of this shuttle, not both. It would raise too many questions, and it may undermine Fel's plans."

"What do you propose we do then?" Vestara asked incredulous. "If you expose yourself to the these Sith alone, they can and would blast you into oblivion without a second thought," She said, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the Star Destroyer looming outside. "If I go alone, we may never find Ben. This mission is kharked, we should cut our losses and leave while we can."

"There's always a third of two options," Luke said. "Have a little faith."

***

Daala lie awake in her quarters. Sleep had eluded her. She checked her wrist chrono. It read 0137, well into the ship's sleep cycle.

Something was off and she couldn't put her finger on it. She decided to take a walk to try clearing her mind.

As she got up out of the cot, Daala thought she heard something. She stopped and listened. For several seconds it was dead quiet, save for the faint hum of the Gorgon's engines. The Head of State resumed getting out of bed and began donning her uniform.

Again, she heard something. It was a faint click sound outside her cabin door. Daala quietly reached for her blaster on an end table by the cot. She flicked the safety off with it's own click.

"Come on, hurry up." She heard outside. It was a modulated voice that was the result of someone speaking through a stromtrooper helmet. Someone forgot to set their comlink properly.

With her blaster in her right hand, Daala grabbed her comlink with her left hand. "Security to the flag quarters." She muttered. Several more seconds went by. There was no response from the comlink. Unease washed over Daala as she came to the realization that help was not coming. Quickly she bunched the blankets around a pillow on the cot to make it look like the shape of a person, then she proceeded to duck into a poorly illuminated corner.

It felt like an eternity for the stormtroopers to finally get the door open. As it slid open they appeared to follow standard procedure. The sergeant used hand gestures to tell his men to surround the cot.

One of the troopers merely shook his head, and the others started looking around. Their thermal imaging no doubt didn't register a heat signature in the bed.

Before she could be spotted Daala blasted the sergeant square in the back. He collapsed between his comrades. Startled, two of the other troopers turned Daala's way and blasted in the general direction of their assailant. Both missed.

Daala squeezed off another shot, blasting another trooper in the face. He fell instantly like a rag doll, and Daala made a mad dash to a table. Kicking the small slender table over to create cover, she blasted another trooper twice in the chest. He collapsed in a heap.

There were three stormtroopers left, counting the sergeant who was climbing back up and calling for reinforcements. Daala shot a third trooper in the groin. He fell backwards and then curled into a ball, wailing. She ducked behind the table again as blaster bolts created red hot welts on her side, the durasteel barely able to stop the blaster fire from cutting clean through. The table wouldn't take much more of this abuse.

She charged the sergeant, who was standing once more, with the table and smashed him against the wall. He hollered in pain as pressure was applied to the wound on his back. The other trooper was startled, but started to bring his blaster around. Daala grabbed the barrel, and the trooper discharged the weapon into the deck. The trooper overpowered her, pried his weapon free, then bashed her in the face. Daala fell on her rear, cheek bleeding, but grabbed her blaster pistol she had dropped charging the sergeant.

The trooper fired at Daala and missed in the heat of the moment. She shot back, hitting him once in the chest. The trooper staggered but shot again. This time he was wildly inaccurate, the pain must have been debilitating. Daala squeezed the trigger twice more, and twice more a new hole rent the plastoid armor, and the trooper fell dead and smoking.

Daala slowly managed to pick herself up off the ground, she wasn't as spry as she used to be. "Security to the flag quarters!" She yelled into her comlink.

"Daala!" A young female voice came from behind her. A snap-hiss echoed in the small chamber and the dark room was bathed in a bright blue.

Daala turned to fire on her new assailant, but her blaster seemingly leapt out of her hand with a mind of it's own and skittered across the floor. Before she could even move a muscle in any direction, the Jedi raised her hand. Daala felt something invisible that seemed to be about the size of a speeder ram into her gut before she slammed into the bulkhead, a good deal of pressure now holding her wrists and ankles in place.

Her new assailant looked like she couldn't be more than twenty years old, a young Togruta Jedi she had never seen before. Or...had she? There was something vaguely familiar about her but Daala couldn't quite put her finger on it. Not that she could put a finger on much of anything being pinned to a bulkhead.

"Looking for your precious security?" The Jedi produced some sort of fob from her belt with her off hand, and pressed a button on it. A red light began to flash on the fob, and within a couple seconds two Imperial YVH droids dutifully marched into the room. Their malevolent looking red eyes were riveted on Daala.

"This party is over Daala," Ahsoka said with a hint of a smirk. "You're under arrest for high treason."

"Arrest?" Daala questioned, in far more confidence than she should have had. She shook her head, an eerie smile growing on her face. "No. Do you really believe I would let you humiliate me in a tribunal like that?"

Ahsoka edged the tip of her saber closer to Daala's face, stopping mere centimeters from her chin. "I believe you don't have much of a choice."

Daala gritted her teeth hard, her smirk widening. Ahsoka didn't get it for a moment, then beginning to panic, realized what was happening as Daala's eyes glazed over. Almost a full second later she began foaming at the mouth. Ahsoka released her Force-grip on Daala, and she subsequently collapsed face down on the deck at the young Togruta's feet. Daala was motionless. Dead. This did not look good.