SWTOR Fan Fic: The Enemy of My Enemy Is...? Part One

[virtualvoyages]

(I have very little fan fic experience, I hope I'm following proper etiquette. The universe of SW:TOR is, obviously, not my own. I am merely playing in George Lucas, Lucasarts, Bioware, etc's sandbox.)


Title: The Enemy of My Enemy Is...? (Part One of Four)
Genre: Gen (adventure)
Rating: PG or PG13 (some violence and profanity)
Summary: An Imperial Agent's and a Smuggler's missions intersect, for better or worse.

Naturally, a man with Lord Dralick's tastes kept his estate in a particularly inhospitable section of a not terribly hospitable world. The jungles of Nerim were an effective deterrent to all but the most determined of visitors, as even the plant life had a taste for flesh. Lord Dralick himself came and went via a private landing pad in his high walled and force field domed estate. Kyrian had been forced to land in what passed for a clearing a kilometer away from the supposedly unoccupied compound.

He'd also been forced to leave Kaliyo behind to guard the ship. That was both a blessing and a curse - he could certainly have used her assistance getting to the estate, but this was meant to be a quiet mission and quiet was not Kaliyo's specialty. He just hoped she didn't decide now was a good time to tender her resignation.

He reached the promised door in the outer wall basically intact. He'd been careful to give the vines and frandi pods a wide berth and the sonic dissuader clipped to his belt kept away swarm hunters and most other creatures. It apparently didn't work on the thing that had pounced on him, but his armored hunter's jacket was sturdy enough to block its teeth. Though it had still left a painful set of bruises. He had no idea what the creature was - perhaps it didn't have ears. He'd mainly gotten the impression of far too many teeth and spiky scales. His blaster shot had sent it shrieking back into the jungle, hopefully not for reinforcements. Either he'd missed, or it was immune to blaster fire.

He wanted to be inside the force field and wall long before anything else not dissuaded wandered by.

He unfolded two metal polls and stabbed the sharp ends into the ground a centimeter or two from the faintly humming red air of the force field. He attached the modulator and waited for it to find the right frequency. A minute or so passed, and the air between the poles turned clear. He crawled through the gap and gave a sharp tug on the modulator wires. They popped free and the force field was whole again. It was highly unlikely that anyone would notice the poles; access to the jungle was only for Lord Dralick's hunting parties, and he was away.

The door was easily opened with an override card. The force field and the planet served as the estate's real security.

The grounds were quiet and empty, the private landing pad unoccupied. There were no windows on the ground floor of the house, and the upper floor windows appeared angled toward the jungle beyond. Kyrian took a second look around, and still seeing no one, sprinted across the open ground to the house wall.

Everything remained quiet.

He followed the wall, moving quietly. The estate would only be occupied by maintenance droids, but it still seemed wise to use the back door from the grounds. Droids stuck to routine schedules and were easy to avoid, but there was no reason to take silly risks.

He'd been provided with a copy of Lord Dralick's key card, which worked on the front door and would open the study as well. He'd thought it best not to ask how Intelligence had acquired it.

The house was quiet, save for an occasional droid chirp or whistle from a distant room. He made his way to the study on the second floor. So far, their information seemed spot on. No droids on the route, no hint of an unexpected house guest. Their informant must have been very close to Lord Dralick to know the house so well.

He swiped the key card in the study door.

An orange force field surrounded him, forming a tube from floor to ceiling. It crackled ominously.

"Ah, good." Lord Dralick emerged from the room opposite, two very large men accompanying him. It seemed unlikely that they'd achieved their height and breadth naturally. "Don't feel too badly, agent. We were expecting you. You haven't been making friends with the right people."

 I think I've chosen my enemies well," Kyrian said. Too well, apparently.

 Lord Dralick chuckled. "You are a fine gift. Now, be so kind as to drop your weapons."

"I'd rather not."

The force field pulsed, sending a flash of searing pain through him.

"You haven't much choice," Lord Dralick said. "The force field is quite capable of rendering you unconscious when your stubbornness loses its entertainment value. Now, do drop your weapons."

Kyrian complied. He might have a chance, a small one, when the force field dropped. The bodyguards hadn't drawn their weapons and Lord Dralick didn't appear to be armed. Scenarios flashed through his mind. What would give him the best chance?

He had none. The moment he raised his hands, the force field gave another pulse, a stronger one. He staggered, sparks flashing at the edges of his vision. He didn't even see the force field drop.

Dralick's bodyguards seized him roughly. One twisted his arms behind his back, so tightly he couldn't move. The other searched him, dropping every piece of electronics he carried on the floor next to his weapons; he wouldn't be calling for the dubious backup Kaliyo might provide. They stripped off his armored jacket and marched him into Lord Dralick's study.

Kyrian tried not to glance at the computer terminal. So close to his objective, yet so very far away. Still, Dralick hadn't killed him outright. That didn't exactly give him hope, but it did give him time. And there was always the possibility that Dralick would dismiss his guards.

The enormous men fastened binders around his wrists and, more surprisingly, his ankles. Kyrian wondered if there was any chance of talking his way out of this. Perhaps he could convince Dralick to release him into the jungle. And be eaten by the thing he'd met earlier, its friends, the plant life... Perhaps not.

Lord Dralick pressed a button on his desk. A small hook popped out from the floor roughly a meter in front of it, and a metal rod with a hooked end descended from the ceiling above the floor hook. Kyrian put two and two together and reconsidered the jungle.

The guards carried him forward and fastened him to the hooks by his binders. Lord Dralick adjusted the rod so that he was able to stand flatfooted, just. It was a clever method of securing a prisoner of most heights, and one that did not bode at all well for Kyrian's near future.

Neither did the assortment of items Dralick spread on the desktop. A shock stick, some type of whip, an energy brand, an assortment of syringes, and several wicked looking devices Kyrian didn't recognize.

"I'm not sure what information you think I have," he said, trying to sound conversational. "I should point out I'm forbidden to tell you anything."

Lord Dralick blinked at him. "Who said anything about information?"

"We're supposed to land in that?" Captain Jezari stared at the holovid. She'd been to Hutta, Taris, Zariv, and other planets where the wildlife was dangerous, but this was ridiculous. Vines snapped at small toothy creatures, snagging one of the herd as they raced by the writhing plant. Its mouth opened in an unrecorded cry as the vine whipped it into the plant's maw. The rest of the herd ran on, swarming toward and over a slower, spiked creature. When the small creatures finished, only bones were left.

Something sniffed at the camera, giving them a close up of a dark, moist snout and then jagged teeth. The holorecording dissolved in static. "It ate the camera!"

"They're not big enough to eat the ship," Corso said. "Besides, me an' Torchy will take care of them."

"Corso..." Jezari massaged her forehead. Sometimes she felt like the only competent person in Republic Space. Even if they weren't actually in Republic Space at that moment. "Oh, screw the plans. We come in blazing, shoot out the shield generator, land in Dralick's backyard and just storm the place. He's only got a handful of guards, and most of the security is for the planet. It is the planet."

"I like that," Corso agreed.

So did Bowdaar.

"They gave us that plan for a reason," Risha said. "They don't want Lord Dralick to know what we're after."

"And they made everything too complicated, like always," Jezari said. "I'll shoot his computer. I'm not walking us through that mess."

"Captain..."

Jezari sighed. "Fine. I'll download everything, then shoot his computer. I'd like to see him figure it out then. Anything else?"

Even Risha shook her head no that time.

"Great," Jezari said. "We go with the new plan. Bowdaar, you and Corso keep the guards busy, Risha, you guard the ship, I get the info, we all get out. Don't get captured, the guy's even more of a freak than your usual Imperial - it's not just the secret facility we're after, this guy tortures people for fun."

"That's all Imps," Corso said. "Bunch of sick, evil freaks."

"And he's supposed to be worse than normal," Jezari repeated. "Don't. Get. Captured."

 

 

The explosion shook the house, putting an abrupt end to the torture session. Lord Dralick swore and charged out of the room with his bodyguards. Kyrian looked around woozily. Blinking helped with the blurriness, but nothing seemed to fix the fact that the room was slowly spinning.

Computer...coordinates, just have to get down. He realized the flaw in that plan almost immediately. The hook arrangement holding him in place was clearly designed to restrain pretty much anyone, up to and probably including wookiees. He wasn't likely to develop superhuman strength just because he wanted very badly to get out of there.

"Damn." It would have been nice to think that the chaos outside was Kaliyo come to rescue him, but he knew that wasn't likely. He was on his own. And pretty much helpless, unless whoever was outside felt like rescuing him.

There had to be something he was overlooking. The drug Dralick had given him didn't just make him dizzy, it made it hard to think. It also was likely responsible for the fact that it felt like someone had poured acid in his wounds. Dralick hadn't specified what it did; he'd merely gloated that he'd designed it himself. A very good reason to shut down his secret installation.

If I could just... Every idea he had for getting down required him to be able to get down. He couldn't reach anything, couldn't break the restraints, couldn't spontaneously develop force powers, couldn't somehow squeeze out of the restraints. Anything that would break the ceiling sufficiently to free him would probably break him, as well. Besides, the only blaster fire now was that of hand weapons.

Calling for help was beginning to seem like an entirely appropriate solution when the door exploded.

He twisted awkwardly toward the door, stifling a gasp at how much that hurt at present. He wanted to see Kaliyo, or someone else likely to rescue him, standing there. What he got was an entirely unknown quantity.

A woman stood in the doorway, a blaster pistol in each hand. Her skin was an unusual yellow-tan, and there were triangular geometric designs tattooed under each of her eyes. Her dark hair was pulled up out of her way and her clothing was eminently practical. His drugged brain managed to piece together that she was a Mirialan. And almost certainly not Imperial.

He tried to smile reassuringly. "Perhaps you could get me down from here?"

 

 

Jezari's plan was working perfectly. Bowdaar and Corso had led the guards off while she sprinted through the house, blasters at the ready. Nothing challenged her. The droids she ran into ran away, bleeping, but there were no remaining guards for them to alert. They'd all run off to deal with the mad Wookiee and the ship that had parked in the back yard, quad guns aimed at the house.

She found Lord Dralick's study on the second floor, right where it was supposed to be. She eyed it for a moment. Risha had given her a card that was supposed to fry the door circuits, but Jezari wasn't sure she trusted even a door in this place. Better safe than sorry, she thought. And blew open the door.

It was Lord Dralick's study all right. There was just one minor problem. No one had said a damned thing about prisoners.

She stood in the wrecked doorway and stared at the man hanging from the ceiling by his wrists. No, not hanging, quite. Though he didn't look too steady on his feet. His shirt was pretty much shredded, and she could see bloody welts crossing his chest and back. His complexion was off, pale somehow, though he was a darker skinned than she usually thought of Imperials as being.

She didn't know why she'd instantly pegged him as Imperial, but the moment he spoke, she knew she'd been right.

"Perhaps you could get me down from here?" His voice - and his attempt to hide his accent - was as weak as the half smile he gave her.

"Trouble with your boss?"

He looked serious. "Dralick isn't my employer." No attempt to hide the accent that time.

"Innocent victim?" As if an Imp could ever be that.

He looked away.

She walked past him and stuck a holodisc into the computer. All she had to do was run the copy program and get out of there. And ignore the little part of her that was saying unhelpful things like "You can't just leave somebody to Lord Dralick." and "He didn't call you alien scum."

"I'm sorry," he said. "You must have good reason to hate the Empire."

Jezari turned. That ranked high on the list of things she'd never expected to hear an Imp say. "You think you can sweet talk me into saving you?"

"Would that work?"

The hint of hope in the question was the last straw. "Damn you." She brought up her blaster.

"Wait!"

She shot the metal rod holding him to the ceiling. He barely avoided hitting himself in the head with his bound hands. But he had no way to catch himself as he over balanced.

She grabbed his arm, steadying him. If he fell, he might well break his ankles. And then they'd really never get out of there. He wasn't a large man, a little shy of average height and kind of slender, but she didn't think she could carry him.

He stared at her, breathing hard. "You might have warned me."

"Just don't try anything." She bent down, not taking her eyes off him, and released his ankles.

He took a step back, eyeing her a bit warily. "Thank you."

She'd never felt more frustrated by politeness. She couldn't just leave him - he was unarmed, injured, and, judging by the empty syringe on the desk and the slightly unfocused look to his eyes, drugged. He'd get recaptured or eaten.

He's an Imperial, she screamed at herself. Who cares?

"I don't know what you came for," he said, indicating the computer. "But Lord Dralick has a... an installation. There may be Republic prisoners there."

She could guess why his voice had faltered. It was the same damned installation she was after the coordinates for. The sensible part of her said "Ha, he's Imperial Intelligence. He deserves to be eaten." The annoying nagging part of her said "He could be a rebel." and "What was he after the coordinates for?"

Something interesting must have shown on her face.

"That is what you came for." It wasn't a question.

"Just shut up and I'll get you out of here." She snatched the now full disc out of the computer. She wasn't taking her eyes off him if she didn't have to.

He nodded.

She growled and blasted the computer. With both blasters, just for good measure. He needed to stop looking young, slightly vulnerable, and...and...like a person. She blamed that he was drugged, and needed her help. As soon as he realized he was her prisoner, he'd act like a normal Imperial. She was sure of it.

 

 

Kyrian flinched as his rescuer blasted Lord Dralick's computer to smoldering ruins. He wasn't entirely certain "rescuer" was the right term for her - new captor seemed more likely. She'd left the binders on his wrists and she clearly had no love for Imperials. Still, she had to be an improvement over Dralick, even if she did keep waving her blaster at him.

"Come on." She grabbed his elbow and pulled him toward the door.

He stumbled. Only the fact that she was still holding his arm kept him from falling.

"Damn it! What did Dralick give you?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. And instantly regretted it. He pressed his hands to his forehead, trying to make the room stop. Now it was washing up and down as well as spinning.

"Here." She pulled his hands down and unfastened the binders. "At least I won't have to keep catching you."

"I'll still slow you down." He wasn't sure he could get out on his own. If it weren't for the jungle between him and the ship (if it was still there), convincing her to leave him would have been his best chance. He had a bad feeling his current options were feed the local wildlife or end up in a Republic prison.

She dragged him down the hall. "Just try to keep up."

Their escape was a blur. Physical exertion seemed to make the drug's effects worse, and he could barely see for dizziness and pain by the time they ran up her ship's ramp. He clung to a wall, trying desperately not to become the first agent to pass out on assignment.

 "What is that?" The voice sounded young, disgusted, and female.

 "Dralick had a prisoner," his rescuer said.

More feet pounded up the ramp and Kyrian heard the sound of a hatch cycling.

"Damned Imps!" Another voice, male.

 "He is an Imp." His rescuer sounded irritated. "We don-"

 "What'd you bring him for!?" The male voice demanded.

A wookiee growled something. It didn't sound particularly welcoming, either.

 "We don't have time for this!" His rescuer cut through any further argument. "Lock him up. Come on, Bowdaar."

 Hands grabbed him - the man, not the wookiee, he was pretty sure - and shoved him down the corridor. A door hissed open and the man gave him a hard shove, knocking him off his feet. He barely caught himself on hands and knees.

"Just try and escape," the man said. And the door hissed shut, locking him in.

Kyrian sat on the floor until his vision cleared.

He'd been locked in a crew cabin, not a cell. It was undecorated, but it had a bunk, an empty closet, and a small attached washroom. Whoever these people were, they weren't set up for prisoners. He couldn't decide if that was in his favor or not.

There was a chance he'd be able to escape, especially if their next stop wasn't Coruscant. That chance would go up significantly if the drug wore off before then. It still hurt to move, and the room was doing things it really shouldn't. He got up slowly, and, using the wall to steady himself, explored his prison, starting with the washroom.

It was functional, though the bracket on the wall where he guessed a medpac would go was empty. He splashed cold water on his face, and drank some. It seemed to help. At least the room was back to merely spinning slowly.

Without a medpac, there was little he could do about Dralick's handiwork. That would complicate his escape, since he'd be at a decided disadvantage in hand-to-hand combat. Not that he was planning on fist fighting a wookiee in the first place. Finding an opportunity to run away was pretty much his only escape option.

Unless he could convince them to let him go. Was there anything he could offer them in exchange for his freedom and, even better, the coordinates of Dralick's secret facility? If he managed to complete the mission, despite being set up, someone would be very unhappy. He just hoped it wouldn't be him.

 

Comments

[loquat.myid.net]

I am entertained, and want to read the rest.

Incidentally, does SWTOR actually include overlapping quests like this? Because that's awesome if they did.

[virtualvoyages]

Yay! Entertaining people is my goal.

Sadly, no. Not so far as I know. Would be awesome.

[redsixwing]

This is a lot of fun so far. (Oh noez, Kyrian's in it deep now..)

[virtualvoyages]

Thank you. :)

[foxinthestars]

Cool! Looking forward to learning more about these characters!

[virtualvoyages]

I'll try for something like a once a week posting schedule. We'll see how it goes.

Also...

:D