The Old Republic: Maquis

[TheWhacko]

WARNING: Spoilers for Fatal Alliance and parts of the Trooper story in this chapter.

 

Prologue

 

It had been a very bad day indeed. Ula Vii sighed wearily as he stepped into his appartment building, head hung low and temples throbbing as he tried to block out the noise of a party on one of the upper floors. He'd have to remember to file a complaint with the landlord later, if this headache didn't kill him by morning, and he didn't expect his report to Watcher 3 to help at all. The Epicanthix had been hard at work the last few months; working his way back up from his portfolio in data collection to a position at Supreme Commander Rans' office. Almost immediately after he'd taken back his old place as the senior aide, he began to miss Stantors. The old Duros had been fairly stupid, truth be told, a man that had let his emotions and prejudices get the better of him time and time again, something that had made his real job much easier. Rans, on the other hand, was a professional soldier at his best. He'd found it hard to get anything useful out of that man, with how close he kept his cards to his chest, and short of actively placing his ear to the door during his superior's meetings with General Garza, there wasn't much he could do besides make copies of the papers that came through his desk. He had to make due with minor troop movement reports and other such garbage, much to the chagrin of Watcher 3, who'd made it very clear more than once that Intelligence was disapointed in his performance as of late. Disapointing Keeper could sometimes be fatal, he'd seen on several occasions.

 

His whole asignment here was rapidly becoming a joke. Hell, good portions of the Empire's campaign was becoming a joke at times. He'd nearly had a stroke when he saw the reports about the destruction of the Gauntlet at the hands of Havoc Squad, and another when Balmorra had been reclaimed by the Republic. Sure, there had been some victories in the Outer Rim, but those campaigns were closer to outright butchery than a military campaign; One more reason that the Sith needed to go if the Empire was to take it's proper place in the galaxy. That, combined with the debacle on Sebadon years ago, he was starting to wonder if an Imperial victory in this war was even a possibility anymore. The only thing that made the days bareable was Larin, and even then their meetings had been spotty, with her work with the Republic Special Forces, and his need to keep his role as an informer secret. He still felt some pangs of guilt whenever they met, knowing that their loyalties lied on opposite sides of the war. Perhaps, someday, there would be a way for the relationship he wanted with her to work...

 

He shook the thoughts from his head as he aproached his appartment door, running his keycard through the slot with another low groan of pain. It wouldn't do him any good to torture himself on that score again. Right now he had to worry about his report to Watcher 3, and getting some rest. As his door slid open, he stepped inside and threw his briefcase aside with little care, just wanting to get the rest of his night over with. Maybe the troop movement reports would be enough to placate his superiors from another long and berating speech on his...

 

Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. He could tell by the smell in the air, one that had never been in his appartment before tonight. Cigarette smoke. Ula never touched the foul things in his entire life, or been around anyone that smoked in years. The pungent scent was filling his nose as he looked around frantically, his headache completely forgotten as terror started to fill his mind. Then he saw the faint glow in the darkness, resting in a lipless mouth pursed into a scowl. A scowl aimed directly at him. Then the lights flicked on, and he heard the whoosh of air as the door sealed shut behind him.

 

"What's the meaning..." The words were cut off by a khaki first slamming into his throat. He gagged and clutched at his neck, eyes bulging as he felt his trachea struggling to take in air. He staggered backwards, nearly losing his foot as he came near the table in the center of the room. Another hand seized him by the scruff of his shirt and roughly threw him into the leatheris chair, sending both him and the chair crashing to the floor.

 

"Mr. Vii. We're been waiting for you." A harsh, inhuman voice spoke from the other side of the room. Ula struggled to raise his neck up enough to see his assailants, but he was forced back down by a heavy boot on his chest. Slowly his vision focused enough for him to make out the assailant pinning him to the floor. It was a Rodian male, the biggest one he had ever seen. He had to be as tall as Ula, and nearly twice as broad across the shoulders, with khaki skin and ruby-colored eyes. He looked like one of those generic thugs in the spy holovids he'd watched with Larin; A heavy black jacket, probably with a blaster resting in a shoulder holster beneth it, heavy black boots and dark cargo pants. Standing beside the Rodian was a bald and bearded Human male dressed in similar clothes, scowling down at him with a hand resting on a blaster at his hip. He heard the sound of someone rising from a chair and starting towards him, every footstep seeming deafening as he tried to crane his head up enough to see the third man.

 

Finaly the speaker stepped into his line of sight. It was a Niko, one of the Kaijan'sa subspecies, dressed like the other two men, and obviously the leader of this trio. His small, dark eyes peered down at Ula with utter contempt as he took a long drag on his cigarette.

 

"How...dare you attack the senior aide to Supreme Commander Rans!? What is the meaning of this!?" He shouted as loudly and angrily as he could manage, hoping to get the attention of one of the neighbors. The words were barely out of his mouth when the Nikto knelt down and, rather casually, stubbed out his smoke just bellow Ula's right eye. It hurt worse than he'd imagined, and he let out a shriek of pain as he felt his flesh burn.

 

"Don't bother trying to cry for help, Mr. Vii. You're soundproofing of this appartment's more than adequate to ensure that our work will go unnoticed until we're finished." The Nikto said in his harsh, gravely tone, standing to his full height as he looked down at the informer again. Silently the Epicanthix swore to himself as he remembered the work he'd had done on the walls those months back. Hanged by his own cleverness.

 

"What....what do you people want? I can assure you that I'm not rich...I'm of very little value as a hostage..." Ula tried his best, or at least as hard as the pain in his body would allow him to lie and placate.

 

"Don't bother lying to me, Mr. Vii. I'm well aware of your status as an informer to Imperial Intelligence. I've seen your communications logs to Watcher 3. You should really be more creative, you know. Leaving all those messages for your mother was a red flag from the start." Ula felt the blood leave his face at those words. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be happening. He'd been so careful. He'd covered his tracks in every way he thought possible, worked so hard to keep his false identity in place. How could he have been discovered?

 

"Are...are you SIS, then?" He stammered out with as much composure as he could muster. That brought a chuckle from the Nikto. With a flick of his wrist, the other two men snapped to action, grabbing Ula by the arms and hauling him up, dragging him towards the bedroom. He let out a pained grunt as he was thrown roughly onto the bed, the Rodian and the Human taking up positions on either side of the door while the Nikto strode toward him, a new cigarette between his lips.

 

"No. We are another interested party. I'm going to make this very simple, Mr. Vii. I want to know everything. Everything you know about Imperial Intelligence and it's operations on Coruscant and the rest of the Republic." That caught Ula by surprise. If these men weren't SIS, just who were they? He fealt another lump of dread well in his chest. These men weren't SIS. They weren't bound by the regulations of interrogation. Terror flooded his mind as he imagined just what kind of lengths the Nikto would go to. Then, for just a moment, just an insane moment, he felt something resembling courage stir up beneth that dread.

 

"I...I won't tell you anything. Even if you break every bone in my body, I won't say anything!"

The Nikto just smiled at that. A cold, lipless smirk that seemed to speak volumes. Without a word he reached out and took hold of Ula's hand, selecting a single finger and taking it in his calloused hand.

 

"We'll see, Mr. Vii." He said, even as he started to apply preasure. "We'll see."

[LordMatthewS]

Thanks for putting the spoiler in the beginning.