Obscured: To Kill a Mockingbird [Complete]

[Darth Rane]

The interior of the Black Talon was eerily silent, devoid of so much as the electronic hum that was normally associated with the ship's maintenance systems. The cool transparisteel viewports were painted almost completely white from the molted starlines that streaked by the ships hull, casting a soft light across the inside of the ship. Slowly, gradually, the starlines faded and receded back into the natural sparks of light that they were, and the ships Navicomputer shattering the fragile silence with a single beep, signifying that it was approaching the set destination.

Overcast by shadows, the overly large pilot's chair swung around to face the computer console, regarding it with a sort of contempt. With strained patience, Darth Rane began to tap the clawed fingers of his right hand against the metal armrest, contemplating what to do next. These were the coordinates Jeseth had given him... Ka-0009-824-B. But the planet Krake wasn't in sight. He thought this over for a moment and, on a hunch, manuevered the ship a few kilometers to the left. Ah, there it was: Vulking thing was hiding behind a few asteroids.

He wouldn't have agreed to make this little pitstop in the Thring sector on Cloak's behalf, were he not already on his way to Obroa Skai to see that a certain Rodian was keeping his end of a bargain. This had better be quick.

[Director Isard]

"What is our status?"

The woman standing in the shadows of the bridge had asked the same question for the past 5 hours. Captain Heron was starting to feel as nervous as she was. But his nervosity was drowned by his fear; the fear of one who wasn't accustomed any longer of having his immediate superior overseeing his work.

And Ysanne Isard was very much his superior, even if she had no status in the military. She was head of Intel - that was enough.

Isard stepped out into the light, and walked slowly towards Heron. Her crimson uniform didn't betray the two days of restlessness since they had departed from HQ. She'd been on the bridge ever since, and the crew had suffered badly from it. Some of them hadn't eaten since they'd left, eager to show that they could bear up under all conditions.

Heron hoped this would be over soon, whatever it was. He couldn't stand to look into her eyes and make those reports, and see the angry flicker in her mis-matched eyes grow with each time the report came negative.

She stood before him now, a few inches taller than him, and looked down on him with that brutal stare that sent cold shivers down his spine.

"Negative, Mad--"

"Sir, we've got something on our screens!"

His eyes went wild for just a second, then he caught himself, and looked down at the officer in the bridge pit. It felt good to be able to look down on someone instead of being in that same position oneself. Whatever the officer had seen, it had better be something real, or he'd have him sent off and punished. Or better, he'd see personally to his punishment - work of a bit of that tension.

But the blip on the screen was very real.

Heron swore inwardly, then ordered the officer to query the ship that had just jumped out of hyperspace and was now hiding not too sucessfully behind the asteroid belt.

"This is the Star Destroyer Hydra's Fang. Unidentified vessel, you have entered restricted space. What is your registration and code clearance?"

[Darth Rane]

With a blaze in his eyes, Rane hastily tapped a few commands in and smashed the comm button.

"This is the Black Talon, personal ship of Darth Rane. My registration is being transmitted to you now. I am here on request of a one Director Isard, code clearance is 'Ebon Cloak'. And, quite frankly, I don't know what the Vulk I'm supposed to be doing here."

[Director Isard]

Confusion registered on the Captain's face. He'd never heard of this individual, whatever it was. Or of the code word. The officer looked as perplexed as he himself, and his eyes fixed themselves onto Isard when he saw that the Captain didn't know more than he himself.

Isard smiled openly, the tension now apparently vanished; the smile made another shiver run down Heron's spine.

"Let him approach, Captain. And you-" - she pointed at the officer in the pit - "let me speak to this Rane."

With an agility Heron hadn't expected from her, she jumped down into the pit and stood next to the officer, took the headset from him and put it over her own head.

"Darth Rane? I assume Jeseth Cloak sent you? You have possession of the code-word. Very well - please follow the beacon to the aft hangar bay, and I will await you there. All further explanations can wait until then."

She didn't wait for her visitor to accept - she clicked the connection off, then gave the rest of her instructions to the very bewildered Captain. Finally, calling her two guards to her, she walked away; the trio swept the bridge clear of people as they passed, and finally left.

[Darth Rane]

Growling like a wild animal, Rane hit the shut off switch for the comm channel. So... she was one of those types. Great. He just hoped that he could muster the control not to rip her head off.

He steered the ship on an intercept course with the comparitively enormous Star Destroyer and, halfway there, they initiated a tractor beam to "help" him dock (much to his chagrin). After the ship had settled in place, Darth Rane marched over to the side exit, keying the door to slide open. He emerged, his twisted face further marred by anger.

"Let's get this over with", he announced to whoever was to greet him.

[Director Isard]

Flanked by her two Imperial Royal Guards - their cloaks of the same crimson as her uniform, billowing in the light breeze that had disturbed the hangar as the ship cleared the magcon field. They looked imposing, and Isard hoped that they would make the suitable impression on whoever this Rane was that Cloak had sent her.

She crossed her arms on her chest, her eyes smouldering. This was taking all too long. Patience wasn't one of her virtues - not by a long shot, and everyone around her knew that. She'd made sure of that, and the two Guards were there to "impress" that fact upon anyone who thought they'd get away with a warning. She'd deal with this Rane the same way, if she needed to.

She wasn't at all prepared for what came out of the ship and approached her. Whatever it was, it looked like something out of a nightmare - if it had ever been human, she couldn't tell. It certainly didn't look human right now, striding at her, growling in anger.

Isard was taken aback. She didn't know a lot about the Dark Jedi that Cloak seemed to have collected around him, but she had assumed that they were all ... normal. Humans.

She felt fear, but she swallowed it back. Whatever Cloak had sent her, she knew she could trust him to a certain extent, like he could trust her. He wouldn't send someone who would betray that mutual trust - and this Rane seemed able enough, if he could instill her with fear. So she walked forth to greet the... creature, but she didn't stretch out her hand to let him shake it.

Striving to make her voice sound as smooth and business-like as she could under the unusual circumstances, she spoke to him.

"I am Ysanne Isard, Director of Imperial Intelligence. If you are angry because you don't know what you are doing here, then please forgive me - I had reasons why I couldn't even tell Cloak what this meeting was about. If you care to follow me - we will go to my quarters. It is a little less-" - she swept her gaze over the assembled stormtroopers standing at attention - "- public there."

[Darth Rane]

The Dark Jedi stood silent and motionless for a moment, taking the opportunity to compose himself. He inhaled deeply, holding his breath for a few moments before releasing it. Then, with a sudden impassiveness, he brushed the wires from his hand and strode over to Isard's side.

"I sincerely hope that you don't intend to get me into bed. You'll find that I'm ill-equipped for such frivolities."

[Director Isard]

At his suggestion, she nearly dropped the nerf-hide gloves she had been pulling off her fingers as they walked.

Get him into bed?!?

The idea alone made her shudder with revulsion. It was true; she had a certain preference for tall men, but that was just it: men. Not something like... this. Maybe out of habit, her eyes nevertheless wandered over whatever was left of his human body - if it was indeed the case that he had once been human; she caught herself before he could notice. But he seemed to have noticed anyway, and colour rose in her cheeks, out of anger or embarrassment.

If he had been trying to throw her out of concept, he could not have succeeded any better than this. Piqued, she fought to gain control over the situation as they reached her private quarters. She gave her guards orders to remain outside, and again the colour rose in her cheeks.

She turned around to him and gestured for him to enter. She needed to find her composure again, before the meeting could proceed. It would be best if she came straight to the point. The door closed behind them.

Turning to him yet remaining at a safe distance in case he would interpret her words in a different way than she had meant to - Dark Jedi nor Sith were particularly renowned for their patience - she forced herself to lock her eyes with his. They seemed to be swirling in a peculiar dizzying way.

"Rest assured, Lord Rane - I didn't ask you to come half-way across the galaxy to jump into my bed - no. You will see that I have no time for such frivolities, as you call them. The reason I wished for the assistance of your particular group of people was one only: I wish to be killed by you."

[Darth Rane]

With an aggrivating calm about him, the Dark Jedi lifted one hand into the air. Black energy danced dangerously at the tips of his clawed fingers, and he slowly moved them back and forth, as if playing some unseen instrument.

"That... can be arranged. Would you prefer, perhaps, to be tortured first? Or should I just remove your head? I assure you that the latter is quick and painless."

[Director Isard]

Involuntarily, she took a step back as she saw his fingers flicker with electric charges. This wasn't quite the way she had planned it. It was making her nervous.

To have herself killed would be a long and painful experience, but she had certain plans for it - the more public it would be, the better. If she was to go, it had better be in style, and in full view of everyone important. The more people saw it, the more would her death be a part of public knowledge.

She eyed the Dark Jedi with doubt. They were temperamental enough - she wondered if her plan would change anything about the outcome of this.

But it was too early to speculate about that - first, he would need to know what she had in mind.

"Ah... that's not quite what I had in mind. What I wish for is something quite public, something.... memorable. Something that will dig its way into the memories of everyone watching. It has to be swift, however, and shocking."

She steepled her fingers before her chest, thinking about the scene this would create.

"I am quite willing to leave the details up to you, but I must ask for full co-operation on this matter. I need to know when and where; after all, it is my death, and I would like to look my best. Consider it a matter of personal vanity."

Isard hoped that Jeseth had not told this creature too much about her - this Rane seemed to have a somewhat preconceived opinion of her as a woman that she fully intended to take advantage of. Letting him think she was nothing but a vain person driven to the brink of despair, yet unable to commit suicide herself, would work into her hands.

Of course, there was the fact that it was very unusual for anyone to simply go and order one's own death, but that didn't seem to surprise the Dark Jedi.

"I expect to be told in full all plans regarding this matter. Will that be acceptable to you?"

[Darth Rane]

The spark of energy dancing around his claws died just then, and Darth Rane's face twisted into a sneer. His hands involuntarily balled into fists. He grumbled incoherently for a few moments before speaking up.

"I never liked you Imperial types. Always scheming; Always conniving. You have something up your sleeve, and I know it. But my brother promised you his aide and I shall provide it on his behalf."

Slowly, he allowed his hands to unknot, and his trademark look of impassiveness once again took it's place on his face.

"But as to the when and where... the sooner the better. I'm not a patient man, and I wish to get this done with."

[Director Isard]

Only when she saw the sparks dissappearing from his fingertips, did she attempt a thin smile. The Dark Jedi apparently had himself under some control - a sign of promise.

"Splendid. I shall leave the planning to you, then. I will give you the details of some of my scheduled public appearances - that should help you work out something."

She kept a respectful distance to him as she walked over to the side of the room where the exit was. There really was no need to have closer contact with this person than she needed - at least not during this stage. Waving her hand towaards the doors, she remarked,

"Well, that would be all for now. Contact me as soon as you have a plan laid out - by the time the guards will have escorted you back to your ship, you shall have the necessary files uploaded onto your ship's computer database. Goodbye for now."

She almost ran out of the room, glad to be away. And without another look back, she walked down the corridor back to the ship's bridge, to tell the captain to return to Base.

[Darth Rane]

Sitting in the cockpit of his ship once again, the twisted skin that passed for Darth Rane's lips creased into a smile once more, revealing the black and yellow teeth underneath. He reached out his hand, one clawed finger tapping a button on the console in front of him.

"Director Isard: One more thing before I go.", he spoke in his mewling voice. He didn't bother waiting for her acknowledgement: He knew she was listening. "I left you a little surprise, back in the room which you briefed me. Have a look, when you get the chance."

He released the button, cutting off the communication. He reclined in his captain's chair, a grating, reverberating sound that could only be laughter escaping his throat.

[Ysanne Isard]

<center>Continued in Obscured: In the Empire's Dis-Service (http://www.swforums.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=10553)</center>