LOTF: Collision/Chapter 7

The evening sky of Coruscant was today a clouded one, where the sky itself seemed to wrap itself around the sun closer and closer, choking out its last light. As his turbolift ascended, Holway felt a sense of dread not dissimilar to what he saw. With every inch he crept upwards he came closer to the lion's den, the office of Armand Isard, director of the Commission for the Preservation of the New Order and his direct superior. It had been months since they last spoke, and that was the way Holway liked to keep it. The man was imposing in every sense of the word, and few men served the Emperor with such singularity as he did. Loyalty was one thing, but fanaticism was another.

At last, the turbolift stopped, and the door opened behind him. "Admiring the sunset?" Isard asked, coming off not quite right, like he was almost amused but not fully. Holway turned to face Isard, who stood tall in his red uniform that contrasted his blue eyes, much like the white streak that contrasted the rest of his black hair. The director was not one for fashion, but his appearance was always impeccable nonetheless.

"Yes, Director." Holway answered, standing up straighter. "The most important thing we can do is remember what we are fighting for."

"How true. Come." Isard motioned for Holway to follow and made his way back into his office, continuing to speak as they walked along. "I presume you know why I've summoned you here?"

"Of course. The data we've salvaged from Facility 406-P, along with the testimony from Barak Dakens himself is incredibly substantial. Cyana has to be-"

"No, Kerrig. We are not discussing years-old conspiracies." Isard sat down at his desk, intertwining his fingers on it as Holway sat down across from him. "She is dead. End of story."

Holway, caught off guard, objected. "Sir, the proof is right in front of us! Hans Cerrano is all we need to find her."

"We need to kill Cerrano and his posse before they cause any more of a disturbance. They've joined forces with what remains of the Nebula Corporation, and my top agents are tracking them as we speak."

"Good." Holway eagerly answered. "Send me, sir. I can see to this myself, and prove everything to you."

Isard sighed, shaking his head. "Listen to yourself. You sound just like Dakens before he turned. She was family, and I understand that, but your cousin is long gone, and too many lives have already been lost looking for her. When will it stop?"

Holway looked down for a moment in introspection, taking a long sigh in and out before finally looking up and meeting the Director's strained eyes. "You're right," he confessed. "This has gone too far. I'm sorry, Director."

Isard, visibly relieved, leaned back in his chair. "You needn't apologize, Kerrig. Dakens has a way of quickly poisoning any mind he can slip his words into. It was one of his best skills, but now it has merely become a liability beyond his usefulness."

"What are you suggesting, sir?" Holway asked hesitantly.

Isard threw away the relaxed appearance he had just had, leaning in once more and muttering with a serene fury: "You will have Barak Dakens executed at noon tomorrow, and have him displayed as an example to the other terror cells across the Galaxy."

"I—" Holway started to protest again but fell silent as resignation passed through him. "It will be done, Director."

"Excellent. You may leave." Isard said, though it was more an order than a suggestion.

"Thank you, sir." Holway said as he got up and made his way towards the exit. As he made his way back to the elevator, Isard called out to him one last time. "And Kerrig— remember what you're fighting for."

"Always." He responded, and the elevator door closed. Kerrig sent it on its way down, looking out the window once more. He briefly pressed his hand to the window, longing for a world as serene as the one in front of him seemed, then reached behind his ear, activating a tiny implant.

"I've got good news and bad news." Holway said.

"People who want to hear the good news don't end up in our line of work, Kerrig. What's the bad news?" Barak responded.

"You were right. Isard's hiding something big. He got super defensive when I mentioned Cerrano and Cyana. Now, he thinks I've been subject to your 'influence' and wants you dead tomorrow."

"And the good?"

"That's all the time we need."

...

On the bridge of the Brotherhood HQ, Moras Hedinin was stirred by an alert from the hangars. The screen across from him tracked a shuttle, identified as one of the Brotherhood's, making its way towards the surface of Anarto II. It wasn't big enough to pose any real threat, but just the same, Moras readied the station's weapons on the shuttle as he began to hail it.

"This is Brotherhood HQ. You're not scheduled to be docking here; what's going on?"

As though suddenly realizing their error (though it was so obvious it couldn't have been one), the shuttle slowed to a stop and a woman's voice answered. "Arriving on-site on orders from Cyana Bastra, over."

Moras frowned, placing his finger just over the manual trigger of the station's starboard cannons, which were all facing the shuttle. "Why?" Moras asked. "What would she possibly need you for?"

"I'm afraid that's classified, HQ. Orders are to answer only to Bastra and the boss." The shuttle's pilot calmly replied.

"Bastra and the boss don't have their guns pointed at you. State your purpose." Moras demanded.

The other ship's comms cut out for a brief moment, before the pilot responded: "Negative. Stand down or answer to Dylan."

At the sound of Dylan's name, Moras let out a frustrated sigh, lowering the station's weapons as he silently vowed to get Cyana back for this obvious subversion of authority.

"Understood. Proceed, and don't let me change my mind. HQ out."

On the cockpit of the shuttle, Taran, Linora, and Ganner collectively all caught their breath in relief. "We did it." Taran said in amazement. "We're in."

Before them, the white planet of Anarto II grew closer by the second until at last they entered the atmosphere, and the air began to stir around them. "It looks as though we'll be landing during a rough storm." Taran remarked.

Indeed, as the ship dove deeper into Anarto II, they could only see less and less through their windows as the wind began to howl. Though the ship's navigational systems ensured the group would be safe, Ganner still felt a sense of dread as he came closer to the surface, which only deepened upon seeing the faint red lights outlining one of the base's hangars.

"Okay, nav will take care of the rest." Taran said. "We're coming down on the north side of the base, and the comms room is in the west side. Once we're there, getting our location out to the Empire should be a trivial task. The real trouble will be escaping."

"Naturally." Linora grumbled. With a soft thud, the ship landed, and the ramp opened, letting in a surge of freezing air. In their white, thermogenic armor, the trio could hardly feel the difference save for their exposed faces. As they debarked, Ganner caught notice of the black hand on Taran's right shoulder pad, and felt a sinking feeling of dread begin to enter his mind.

Walking down onto the ramp, Ganner was blinded for a moment by the bright hangar lights, which were significantly more useful when the blizzard outside was not being blocked by a ship on the inside, and as he raised his hand to block them he saw a group of similarly armored, grisly men approaching him.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" One of the men shouted, all of them drawing WESTAR-35 pistols. "No one told us you were coming."

Unwavering, Linora gave an answer as the two groups stopped in front of each other. "Are you sure?" She asked, looking back outside. "Might be weather interference."

The man scoffed. "Come on! This is nothing. No one told us you were coming, period."

As they spoke, Ganner tried to reach out to the men's minds in the Force, but all he found himself surrounded in hazy darkness, blinding and invisible at the same time. Faintly, he could feel the minds he wanted to touch, but they seemed so distant that Ganner knew he wouldn't be able to influence them. Taran glanced expectantly at Ganner, and Ganner shook his head as subtly as he could. Sighing, Taran reached into his pocket and stepped forward.

"These say otherwise," Taran said as he pulled out a stack of credits. As Linora turned to face him incredulously, the man's eyes widened, and he looked to his companions to see the same reaction.

"Now that's more like it." He answered, grinning, as he took the credits and dispersed them amongst himself and the others. "Welcome to Anarto II."

As they walked off, Taran looked quizzically at Ganner. "They should've been easy to influence. What happened?"

Ganner put his hand on his temple as he tried to reach out again with no success. "Something's here that's blocking me. I don't know what, but it must be powerful."

"Just what we needed." Taran bitterly replied.