ATOG: Adverse Alliance

[VagueDurin]

The metallic clanking sound resonated throughout the interior of the small craft as its pilot skillfully brought it alongside, and then into a hard-dock with, the much larger barge-like ship. There was a soft hissing sound as the docking chambers pressure equalized between the two ships, and then the red light above the hatched flashed to green and there was silence once more.

The pilot leaned sideways in his seat to face the shuttle’s sole occupant and spoke, his voice distorted by the full faced helmet he wore. “Docking is successful, sir. The staff informed me that they’ve sent someone to meet you on the other side.”

The human with dark brown hair and striking blue eyes nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Thank you, Captain.” He spoke in a smooth tone. “This shouldn’t take long.” He added as he moved towards the hatch.

“Excuse me, sir..” the Pilot spoke up again before the passenger could open the hatch.

“Yes, Captain?”

“The staff also mentioned that there were no weapons allowed on-board, sir.”

“Did they now?” Replied the passenger pensively. He shrugged slightly and reached into the jacket of his smartly tailored black suit and withdrew the slender blaster pistol from its holster. He checked the safe, and then set it down on the seat next to him. With a mock salute towards the pilot, he turned back and pulled down the release valve on the hatch and disappeared into the docking chamber.

It was a short walk to the other side of the chamber and the opposite hatch opened when he arrived. Ducking through the hatchway he stepped onto the barges deck and smoothed out his suit jacket before bringing his blue-eyed gaze around to regard the crewman who’d been sent to greet him.

“Welcome to GRPB 8DVW12, Mr…” The crewman trailed off, obviously hoping that the visitor would fill in the rest for him.

“Who I am is not important.” The visitor spoke, withdrawing a small sheet of flimsi from his suit’s pocket and handing it to the crewman. “The immediate transfer of that inmate into my custody, however, is of the upmost importance.”

The crewman looked at the flimsi briefly then back up at the visitor. He quickly handed the sheet back to the man in the suit and shook his head slightly. “I think you need to speak to the Warden.” He said quickly. “Follow me.”

And with that he was off, boots clanking on the metallic deck of the vessel as the pair navigated the complex series of hallways and catwalks until they arrived at the corridor that would ultimately end them up on the bridge of the vessel.

“Wait right here.” The crewman told him, before disappearing into what the visitor could only assume was the Warden’s office.

For a few short minutes the visitor was left to himself outside of the office. So he stood and waited patiently, a casual eye on the swivel as he inspected the state of the vessel with mild disinterest. He could easily hear the heated debate going on inside the office and was much more concerned with the reaction that his request was being met with. He wondered to himself just what the situation really was here aboard the 8DVW12.

As it turned out, he didn’t have much longer to wonder. The door to the office was thrown open and the crewman shuffled out. “He’s ready for you.” Was all he said as he avoided eye contact and scurried down the corridor. With a raised eyebrow, the visitor strode confidently forward into the office and took a seat in front of the desk without being offered.

The Warden, who turned out to be a dark bronze skinned Twi’lek, scowled down at him from behind the desk. However when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to move, the slightly heavyset Warden walked around the desk and closed the door to his office himself. Once he’d made it back to the desk he slumped down heavily into his own chair and glared at the visitor some more.

“I’m the Warden of this prison barge, and I’ve received no communications whatsoever about this. So I suggest you start talking, and fast.” He barked out, crossing his arms and leaning into the desk. “Who the frell do you think you are just waltzing onto my barge and demanding the release of an inmate? And Kaed Utae at that? Do you have any idea what kind of animal you’re asking for here?”

The visitor once again raised his eyebrow in reaction, allowing himself several moments of silence before he finally responded to the Warden’s tirade. “I’m with the Republic Judiciary Department, if you must know. And I’ve been dispatched here on an assignment of great urgency to recover this… Utae, and to extradite him back to the Core Worlds immediately.” He lied, tilting his head to the side slightly before continuing. “I don’t really care who you are or what you are in charge of, if we can be so frank. Whatever you have him sentenced for here is childsplay, I assure you, compared to the outstanding warrants for him back in the civilized galaxy.”

The Warden somehow managed to worsen his scowl as he listened to the visitors words. “What in the name of the Sith are you blabbering about?” He demanded, leaning forward and calling up his files from the terminal on his desk. “Utae has been tried and convicted of Grand Theft, Larsony, and Murder.” He tilted the screen slightly for the visitors benefit. “Not to mention the body count and regulation infractions he’s racked up since he’s been in our custody.”

“Which only further underlines the purpose of my visit, Warden.” The visitor replied frostily. “Obviously Utae is just too much for your facility to handle.” He held up a hand rapidly to cut off the Wardens flustered rebuttal. “Listen, I’m not going to sit here and get into a pissing match with you.” He spoke sharply and tossed another piece of flimsi onto the Warden’s desk. “You’ll find all the proper authorization codes and signatures are in order. This is well above your pay grade, sir.”

The Warden double checked all the codes just to be difficult, the visitor could tell he’d been defeated and it was just a final stand of defiance on his part to make the visitor wait the extra few minutes. Childish, but not unexpected. The Warden had probably thought Utae was his prize ticket to a big promotion, maybe off of the barge and into a planet-side prison somewhere. Sadly, it was not meant to be.

Despite several assurances that he did not need them, the visitor was supplied with a squad of heavily armed and armored guards as they traveled deeper and deeper into the facility. It was when they entered the lift to travel down into the sub-levels of the barge that the visitor began to wonder just what sort of infractions the prisoner was guilty of to land him in the situation he currently was in.

Finally the lift stopped and the visitor was led down a dimly lit hallway into solitary confinement. The group traveled a few meters deeper down the corridor, before the guards stopped the visitor short and then set up around the cell door with their batons in hand. For his part, the visitor simply took a step back to observe and a few moments later, one of the guards was keying in the access code and the heavy metal door was sliding open.

There was little warning, the keypad was barely audible in the darkened interior of his cell. It was enough, though. Kaed rolled off of his undersized bunk and flattened his back against the wall next to the door just before it slid open. The lights might have been dim in the corridor, but the cell was pitch black and as the door slid upwards the beam of light shot forth into the cell. Kaed had closed his eyes in preparation and now he slowly opened them, adjusting rapidly to the new lighting he saw an opening and struck out at the first guard foolish enough to step into the cell.

It was a blur, after that. The blue skinned inmate acted on pure instinct as he struck out with shackled wrists against the baton wielding guards. Moments that felt like hours passed by and the situation slowly morphed back to reality. Reality that include two incapacitated guards now strewn about inside of his cell. One guard found himself trapped in front of Kaed with his shackles wrapped around the guards neck as he used him as a shield, preventing the final two guards from firing upon him with the blasters they’d been forced to draw.

Kaed’s amber colored eyes were alert and darting back and forth between the two remaining guards. It was as if he was trying to determine which one of them would be quicker on the trigger pull so that he knew which one to throw his hostage at before he made his escape. That was when the clapping started.

The visitor in the sharp black suit clapped his hands together slowly, the action causing an eerie sort of echo down the corridor. “I must say, the briefs failed to mention just how ugly it is.” He spoke, referring to Kaed with obvious disgust in his tone. “Impressive, Mr. Utae. Most impressive. However I’m afraid it is far too little, far too late. Tell me Kaed, do you remember Chandrilla?”

Kaed shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, obviously the sight of the visitor had placed him on edge. He removed his grip from the guards neck and kicked the man square in the back, sending him sprawling into whom Kaed had determined to be the trigger-happy of the two blaster toting guards. He then sprung into motion, bashing his forehead into the second guards, shattering the man’s nose in a morbid spray of blood.

Without sticking around to watch the carnage, he took off at a dead sprint for the lift. However he found that after three steps his legs stopped responding and he lost all motor control. Kaed fell to the ground as the blackness swept down upon him. His last sight was the suited visitor, a spent syringe in his hand…

****

When Kaed finally drifted back into consciousness, he found himself secured to a seat by crash webbing. That meant he was on some sort of vessel. As his vision started to clear, his suspicions were confirmed. It had the appearance of some sort of small personnel shuttle. A clanking sound called his attention immediately down to his wrists, which were still shackled together. Then someone cleared their throat in front of him. His amber colored eyes shot up to see the man. The one in the suit who’d stabbed him with the paralytic.

“What the frell is going on?” Kaed demanded.

“I’d pay a fortune for a glass of Blue Milk…” The visitor spoke, his blue eyes watching Kaed like a predator would stalk its prey.

There was a slight pause and a hitch in Kaed’s demeanor before he finally responded… “Why pay for the milk when you could steal the Nerf instead?”

“Get us underway, Captain. We have a deadline to make.” The man in the suit called up to the pilot, before turning his attention back to the shackled man in front of him. “Who is Kaed? And what the frell were you doing on a prison barge?”

[VagueDurin]

The dark blue skinned inmate took a few moments to observe his surroundings and to test out his body after the paralytic had run its course. The prison uniform he wore was of a simple humanoid design, bleach white in color with his last name and ID number stenciled across its chest and back.

Of course, it wasn’t his real last name, or his real ID number, but no one aboard the prison barge could have ever guessed that.When he was satisfied that things were as in order as they could be, he turned his amber colored eyes back onto the man in the suit before him. The man’s name was Syrus. And the two of them knew each other all too well.

“Since when did the TOG start actively sabotaging its own operative’s missions and injecting them with paralytics? Have I been away that long?” He asked, his tone dripping with sarcastic irritation.

“It’s fitting that you should mention time, Decklan. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since you’ve made any sort of contact with me or anyone else?” Syrus replied, pulling a folder from the seat next to him and opening it up in his lap.

“You know, I knew I was forgetting something. Can we turn around and go back right quick? You see I keep my secret communications log in my diary and I’m sure its back there with the rest of my personal effects.” Decklan sneered.

“That’s cute, really. It’s been six standard months, Decklan. Six. Now if you’re through with the Bantha-Brains routine, maybe you could answer my question. Who is Kaed, and why did I have to impersonate a Judiciary Agent to establish contact with you?”

“Since when do you care so much about my Aliases? And why are these still on?” Decklan avoided the question again, lifting up his forearms to clang the restraints against each other. As he spoke he felt the shuttle accelerate into hyperspace.

“Since you dropped off of the grid, Decklan.”

“If the TOG wanted my attention why didn’t you signal? I can’t be hel-“

“I did, Decklan. Maildrops, Advertisements, CI’s… This trend of yours has been worsening for awhile now. You’ve been going deeper and deeper into your cover. And now this… Kaed.. I can’t keep covering forever, D. Sooner or later someone along the chain is going to notice this and freeze you unless you can turn it around.” Syrus interrupted Decklan, flipping through the pages of flimsy in the folder he held before turning it around to show Decklan. It was a copy of the crimes that Kaed Utae was charged and convicted of. “Did you do these things, D?”

Decklan glanced down towards the deck for a moment and shook his head. “Kaed did.”

“I’m not kidding, D. What were you doing, I need to know.”

[VagueDurin]

The rest of the flight through hyperspace was spent with Decklan explaining to Syrus what he’d been up to the past few months. Once Syrus seemed relatively satisfied and he’d taken the cuffs off of Decklan, the Wroonian slouched back in his seat and drifted off into a much needed nap.

The shuttle reverted back into realspace several hours later and approached the Itani Nebula at sublight speeds. Decklan was awake now, but he didn’t bother trying to watch out the viewports. The first few times in and out of the Nebula truly were breathtaking; however the view had lost its sway over him long ago.

The pilot skilfully navigated through the astronomical body until finally they were approaching a large sort of space station. He shared a conversation with a docking official that only he could hear inside of his helmet and within moments the shuttle was granted clearance to land. A small hangar opened up from the side of the station and the shuttle glided its way to a graceful landing inside.

The hatch opened up and the familiar smell of artificially scrubbed oxygen filled Decklan’s nostrils as he sauntered down the ramp. Syrus joined him moments later and set a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Go get cleaned up, D. You’ve got a briefing in 15 mikes.” He spoke, handing Decklan a datapad before heading off in the direction of a nearby turbolift.

Decklan watched Syrus’ retreating form for several long moments before he sighed slightly and headed off in the opposite direction. He had orders after all, and most of the time he followed them.

He kept up a decent pace as he navigated the corridors of the space station and arrived in his assigned quarters in a little under two minutes. The billeting was simple and practical. A bunk, desk with a chair, wall and foot lockers, and a small partitioned latrine made up the entirety of his room.

Decklan didn’t mind. He’d never been burdened with an overabundance of personal space in his lifetime and he hardly had enough belongings to fill up the small space he now occupied. A shower came first. The blue skinned operative doffed the prison uniform and washed up quickly. He’d liked to have stayed under the fresh, warm water longer but the time had not been allotted.

After drying off he slipped into a set of ATOG fatigues. Black cargo style trousers, a dark green undershirt and a black blouse with name, rank, and unit patches all subdued in dark green. He laced up a pair of blindingly polished black boots and secured his sidearm to his hip. With one last glance at the mirror in the latrine he turned and exited the room, range walking his way down the corridor. He had 7 minutes to get to the briefing, and he had no intention of being late.

[VagueDurin]

When Decklan arrived at the designated briefing room the Wroonian wasn't surprised to find that he was the only person present to be briefed. That was how the ATOG Vanguard’s operated; Alone. He made his way through the blast doors and walked up to the rooms table, stopping beside Syrus and snapping to the position of attention behind a chair.

The rooms third occupant stood from his seat and returned Decklan's salute, before motioning to the chair in front of him. "At ease, have a seat, Lieutenant."

The man was much older than Syrus and Decklan and it showed in the pastiness of his complexion and the wrinkles in his skin. He was mostly bald, with just a hint of graying hair atop the crown of his head. However his deep blue eyes were full of a vigor that defied all these other attributes. Director Helms was a passionate individual, and there wasn't a soul in the TOG that could claim to possess more tenacity and determination than he.

Decklan did as he was instructed, pulling out the simple black metal chair and taking a seat in it. He glanced sideways at Syrus but received no clues from the man's expression. With a mental shrug, Decklan looked back at the Director and waited patiently to be told exactly why he was here.

As if on cue, the view panel that dominated most of the table's surface blinked into existence and a projected image of a planet appeared in the air above it. The planet itself looked fairly common, consisting of the usual greens, browns, and blues that one might expect from a habited world.

"This is Jadadel." the Director spoke, pausing to light a thin cigarra before he continued. "We sent a team there a week ago to shut down a Trandoshan cartel. Something's gone wrong, though. We've lost contact with the team and they are overdue to report in. This is less than acceptable. We need you to go in and clean up." he finished, leaning over the table to type a few keys. The image zoomed in until a particular subsection of a city came into view, and technical data streamed by beneath the image. "This is where the target was located. We need containment on this, Lieutenant. We need to account for our operatives. If they are alive, we need to know if they've been compromised. If you can bring them back with you, that's great, but destroy this Cartel and its members. That is your primary objective, understood?"

Decklan brought his amber colored eyes away from the information scrolling along the bottom of the projection and focused them in on the Director. "Check." he replied simply. In his mind he was already going through his mission prep. Determining what resources he felt he was going to need, devising a preliminary strategy, setting up fail safes and contingencies.

"Very well. You will be provided with a transport. It's being prepped in the hangar bay." The Director told him.

"And do try to bring this one back in one piece." Syrus added from his side, drawing a chuckle from the Director.

"Yes, That would certainly be preferable. You're dismissed Lieutenant."

"Yes sir." Decklan replied, shooting up out of the chair and holding a salute until it was returned. He then about-faced and headed out the door of the briefing room with Syrus trailing behind him.

"How come you never show that sort of respect to any of the other personnel around here?" He asked, half-joking.

Decklan looked over his shoulder for a moment. "Because the Director earned it, You'll be the first to know if anyone else around here does the same." He replied crisply, before turning down another corridor and heading for the lift that would talk him up to the hangar where his ship should be waiting for him.