Sestooine Rage

The backlash from the too-close explosion rocked her off her feet, sending her tumbling down the concrete steps that descended into the sewer tunnel. "Gods dammit," she snarled, catching herself about halfway down the stairs. In the darkness she could hear Kazaar cursing as well, and switched to infrared, bathing her surroundings with bright green in the HUD.

"Thanks for that," she said dryly as he came down the stairs towards her. "I'm sure no one has any idea where we are, we were so quiet about it."

De'Ville walked the rest of the way down the stairs, favoring one of her legs that had twisted a bit during her fall. Didn't seem too bad; she'd just walk it off.

Kazaar gave o'forced smile, hidden behind his helmet. "Look Lady, ya wanna bitch 'bout it go right o'frackin' head. Ya think I was trying t'fracking get us killed?"

He was pretty sure she was glaring at 'im but wasn't worried 'bout that. She could kill 'im if she wanted for all he fracking cared. All he knew was he could heard a buncha loud *thunks* on th'door they'd just come through. Damn plague carriers were trying t'bust in.

"Let's get th'frack outta here. Gotta be o'way to the Imp's base."

This time, De'Ville let Kazaar take lead. Wasn't sure if it was 'cause o'her hurt legs or 'cause she was gonna shoot 'im in the back. Didn't matter...Kazaar'd put in double armored plating...just in case.

The stairs eventually led to o'small walkway. On one side was the wastewater river leading outta Tarkingrad. On th'other side, hugging the wall, were a buncha pipes which hugged the ceiling.

He couldn't help but stare at 'em. "Things look pretty new."

"Maybe the Empire replaced them as a favor."

"Yeh frackin' right. Empire version of o'frackin favor is making sure they give ya o'bantha steak that's gotta fast workin' poison, not o'slow one.

"Naw...these shit f'brains've got something goin' on."

Sewers were a lot like the road leadin' up to it. Quiet. 'Cept, of course, for the Force-damned monsters on the outside trying t'bust their way in. Either way, Kazaar wasn't looking forward t'running into them again, unless he got more ammo. Or o'Death Star laser.

"Hold up. Hear that?"

Voice. And based on the vocabulators...

Stormtroopers.

"Sure you got those turrets working?" Voice One came.

Another voice answered. "Still having issues with the top left one. I can't get it to auto target without throwing the entire grid off."

"Well fix it!" A third voice put in. "I'm not interested in waiting down here if there are more of those things coming. We'd be more borked than we already are."

"Okay okay, hang on...alright it's calibrating again. Needs...five minutes..."

"That damn long? What'd you fill those things with sludge?" Four voices now.

"Not my fault. These things have always been damned buggy."

Kazaar looked at De'Ville and got o'nod. Now or frackin' never.

He counted t'three, then went 'round the corner, blaster rifle up.

Imps never had o'frackin' chance...

She wasn't too worried about the crazies outside breaking into the sewers, she hadn't broken the lock, she'd only opened the door. Once it had shut the entrance should have sealed up tight like before.

Of course, with the nearby explosion, there was no telling what shape the door was in. She came around the corner behind Kazaar, targeting the active autoturrets with her blaster rifle while he raked the troopers with sizzling energy bolts. The two Rebels had the element of surprise, and after a few minutes the sewer was quiet again.

De'Ville sloshed across the shallow stream of waste water to check the recalibrating turret, pushing a dead trooper over to give herself more room. "Looks like this one will work - we should let it be, now that we're on this side of it."

De'Ville got o'nod in return. 'Least this thing'd gone right. Not like the entire mission'd been FUBAR but just more than either o'them had expected.

They both rifled through the stormtroopers' armors, grabbing whatever ammo they could get plus whatever keycards or codes they had. Figures th'fracking bucket heads were low on th'totem pole (prob'ly why the Force-damned frackers drew sewer duty t'begin with) to have anything real important. 'Least there was an updated map. Those things always came in handy.

"Looks like the lift's gonna spill us out on th'second floor. Must be where they got the armory." He smirked behind his helmet. "Hell if we're lucky we can grab o'few more explosives t'blow this place to hell."

"You and your damned explosives..." De'Ville gave o'wry reply.

Kazaar snorted. "Sure beats going 'round with o'buncha weapons that're gonna run out. An' makes sure the Empire's finest ain't frackin' interested in charging us. Lay o'couple mines..." Let it hang as he spotted somethin' else. "Frackin' odd...Our map says th'buildin' ends 'bout 500 square feet before it's supposed to. Imp map's got something else. Some kinda restricted area."

"Computer core?"

"Naw that's on the third floor. This is on the second. Near th'Med Lab too. Bet ya o'case o'liquor that's where we're find our best info." He got in th'lift and knocked out the emergency exit so they'd have access to it's top.

"'Bout time th'fracking fun began. I'll give ya o'boost."

She put her hands on his shoulders and her foot in his clasped hands, and pulled herself up through the hatch to the topside of the turbolift. Bracing herself, De'Ville reached back down to grab Aurelias' forearm and help haul him up.

Raising her arm she shot her grappling hook up the shaft. It landed with a soft thunk approximately where the third floor was, some forty five feet above them. "See you there." She gave Kazaar a two fingered salute, tapping her helmet, and then pressed the recall on the grapple, shooting up into the air.

Kazaar smirked an' followed suit with his own grappling gun. 'Bout fracking time the action started.

De'Ville was quick. When Kazaar'd gotten up to the second floor, she'd already pulled the lift doors opened and killed two stormies (Kazaar sure as hell wasn't sure what'd happened, he hadn't heard a damn thing). He tossed the bodies down th'shaft, while De'Ville kept watch with 'er SG-4 raised.

Turns out it was good she had it ready. Couple Imp stormtroopers ended up walkin' down the hall (prob'ly the change in shift, who the frack knew) just as Kazaar was getting rid o'the last body.

"You there freeze!" One shouted and went for his blaster. De'Ville dropped both o'em with a quick shot.

Alarms started goin' off as the blaster fire was registered. Kazaar smirked as he pulled his EE-3 carbine up. "Down th'frackin' hall let's go!"

They moved quickly inna tight formation where th'dead stormies were laying. Kazaar checked th'hallway they'd come from...nothin' yet. "Got ya back Lady, move it!"

De'Ville cut cross the hallway entrance, with Kazaar followin' a couple seconds later. No Imps yet, but both o'em knew that'd change pretty quickly. She didn't wait 'round much longer and stormed down the hall, with Kazaar hot on 'er heels.

Building was set up like o'lotta other Imperial buildings. Six or seven interconnecting hallways, set up inna box-like formation. Pretty easy to move down, with 'least a couple doors per hall. Plenty of cover, but not a lotta ambush points. Just 'nough to make things frackin' suck.

"It's on the other end of the building. At least 75 yards or so!"

"Keep moving. Too frackin' qui--"

Didn't get the chance t'finish the sentence as six stormtroopers startin' firing at 'em from a couple doorways ahead.

De'Ville snapped off a couple quick shots, not really expecting to hit anything as she pressed herself into a doorway. She was closer to the Stormtroopers than Kazaar was, and found herself pinned down by the blaster fire, sticking her blaster rifle around the structural rib of the hallway and shooting blindly.

From the sounds of it she'd actually hit one of them, but this situation was much less than ideal, especially when not using the Force.

As usual, Kazaar made his presence know with o'loud frackin' BOOM!

Stormtroopers went rattlin' around the hallway like o'buncha empty bourbon bottles an' Kazaar had to smirk. Wasn't like he was wastin' rails, but at this point there was no Force-damned reason t'be quiet now. With the Hell breakin' out all over the place, the ex-bounty hunter decided there needed t'be o'little chaos too.

No time t'waste as he and De'Ville dashed down th'hall as quick as they could. They'd just rounded o'corner when Kazaar spotted something.

"Shit get down!" He pushed Lady outta the way just as two heavy blaster bolts caught him in th'chest. He'd live...but it frackin' hurt...

She cursed under her breath, snapping into position and downing the troopers who'd shot Kazaar. De'Ville slung her rifle across her back, then reached down and hooked Kazaar under the arms, dragging him down the hallway towards the objective until he was able to get his feet underneath him.

Reaching the medlab, the two Rebels burst in, and were surprised to find it abandoned. "Interesting," De'Ville said, stalking to a computer and inserting a datastick, the pre-sliced code breaker going to work on the encryption while Kazaar moved through the lab to access the secure area they were headed for. "Might as well see if there's any... huh.

"This is pretty serious security for a medical computer."

"'Cause it's not just a frackin' Med Lab." Kazaar was starin' at the secured door he'd just popped open. Way he said it made Lady turn around.

There were four Force cages all lined up inna row against the wall. Three o'em been turned off, but both Rebels could still see the human remains in 'em. Pretty godawful too. All looked like they'd been burned at some point and pulled out f'study. Hell...Kazaar bet the frackin' Imps were still studying whatever the frack was in 'em to see what was going on.

But the fourth...forth was o'Force-damned travesty. Little girl was in it...or what looked like one. She was completely skin'n bones. And the skin looked like it'd taken a red frackin' hue from all the drugs she had to've been shot up with.

Kazaar walked up forra closer look. Wasn't skin...it was frackin' blood. Girl'd either sweat out or just coughed up a buncha blood all over the cage's floor. Lotta it looked t'be dry. Rest o'it was all over 'er body. Frackin' hell...Girl 'erself wasn't moving too much either. Just kinda openin' her mouth from time t'time like she was trying t'bite at th'air.

Whoever she was, she tried t'focus her blood red eyes on Kazaar an' De'Ville as they gawked at 'er behind their helmets. The girl just hissed, coughed, then fell back still...

Kazaar let outta growl, feelin' his blood start t'get hot and his fists clench.

"Looks like we found our Patient Frackin' Zero..."

De'Ville stood silently for a moment, her mind lost in memories, then she pulled her blaster rifle off her back. "We'll get the information off the computers. Find out what they did to her."

She leveled the muzzle of the weapon at the girl, and moved to slap the controls for the cage to deactivate it.

"No don't!" a high voice almost *squawked* b'fore De'Ville could actually open th'cage. "She'll kill you!"

Kazaar snorted behind 'is mask and turned one o'The Twins' towards th'intruder. Been o'while since Kazaar'd seen o'Omwati but o'thin one, with black feathered head raced into th'lab from an adjoining room. Neither Kazaar or De'Ville noticed him but they'd been too busy starin' at the horror in front of them.

Guy wore o'lab coat over o'drab grey jumpsuit. That pretty much givin' away that he was some kinda scientist...frackers were either goofy as hell or boring as hell. This one was no exception. Pretty much stood in between Lady's blaster rifle an' the control to the prison.

"Who th'frack're you." Th'ex-bounty hunter growled dangerously. If th'chuffsucker was involved in whatever hell was goin' on.

"I'm Dr. Bleth Kassa formerly based on Coruscant now focusing on 'Special Projects' for the Galactic Empire's research and development division." Guy was pretty proud o'his accomplishments, even with two blaster barrels facin' his thin face.

"You th'head o'this 'special project." Kazaar scowled.

"Forced to, yes." Kassa answered. "I was assigned here against my will after asking to be returned home. The Empire wouldn't allow it. They claimed I hadn't done my job in making sure the Death Star was safe.'

"Forced ya t'frackin' work on kids..."

The scientist raised his arms. "I didn't want to, I promise you." Voice gotta little shrill. "They wanted me to develop a plague, able to kill off the population of any planet within a month. I honestly didn't want to, but they told me I'd have my freedom after that.

"But..." one of Kassa's thin, blue fingers raised. "I tricked them. I didn't give them what they wanted, not really. The Empire wanted to be able to control the plague...but I showed them."

Now th'fracker's mouth twitched into o'mad smile. I manufactured it so it would burn out in a little over 48 hours...

"It took a while...I had to make sure it wouldn't burn out so quickly...that's why." Pointed towards th'three other cages. "You can see not everyone made it. And sadly the girl will die soon too. She's lasted longer than anyone else...but she's infected just like all the rest."

His eyes grew wide. "Even you have the virus burning through your systems..."

"Sure we do," Lilaena said. "We are raging balls of plague right now. Better watch out."

She slapped the controls and the energy field protecting the Force Cage fell away. The creature inside moaned and began moving, like a blood and rag covered skeleton, but De'Ville did not hesitate. As soon as the field disappeared her finger twitched on the trigger, putting a blaster bolt into the girl's head, ending her misery.

De'Ville reactivated the Force Cage and turned back to the scientist. "You were saying? I am sorry, I interrupted your crazy rant."

"Nooooo!" Science guy pretty much wailed an' rushed towards De'Ville. Kazaar was 'bout ready t'cut him down, but the Omwati raced passed her, shut off the Force Cage an' got in it with the girl's corpse. He cradled it too like it was some kinda lost lover he'd just found dead ovva horrific death.

"You don't know what you've done!" It was frackin' creepy. Especially when the scientist kissed th'corpse on th'forehead. Now th'guy was moaning over an' over. Tellin' the girl (whoever she was) he was sorry she'd died an' that he loved 'er. Creepy.

"She...was the key to it all! My greatest creation..." Both Kazaar an' De'Ville just kinda stared as th'Imp started rambling, still holding th'girl's dead body.

"My latest masterpiece." His eyes were wild as he started up at 'em. "The first of my one-part players."

Kazaar gave Lady o'look. Frackin' hell.

"The chaos that's out there, it's unrefined." The scientist prattled on. "It has so much potential but can fall apart too quickly. My virus wasn't good enough at the start. People were burning out, their bodies drained from what it put on them.

"And it was incomplete. I had to give them the artwork in two parts...pretend they needed part one for their protection. Part two they took willingly, as a way to counteract the side effects of part one. The red eyes and sluggishness."

Blue-skinned Science Guy blinked. "It was imperfect but the results were fantastic. Their aggression, their anger. The way it took to them...oh it was gorgeous."

He quivered. "But it died too soon, too soon...too soon. It wouldn't hold. So I kept experimenting...tweaking...trying to make it work." He clutched the girl's head tightly.

"And it did! I did it! I made this work! She was my greatest creation! She was the one who'd I'd show off. The one who could pass it along with just a single bite or a single drop of blood. Oh...what we could have seen. What Dac or even Coruscant could have looked like under my masterpiece.

"AND YOU RUINED IT!" He screamed, then started caressin' th'girl's body. "But...but wait...maybe not...maybe, her blood can be harvested. It can be done! I shall do it! My masterpiece will live!!"

The scientist suddenly raced outta th'cage towards a buncha science tools o'some kind.

Kazaar'd been bored long time ago, but 'least they'd found out just what th'frack was going on. Crazy-ass scientist made plague t'wreak all sorts o'hell on galaxy. Made perfect frackin' sense t'him.

"Hey...psycho." De'Ville'd moved towards th'Force Cage. She activated it again.

"No! No! Stop! Don't do that! I need her!" Guy was almost pleadin'. It was Force-damned pathetic.

Pretty sure De'Ville face was twisted in some kinda hateful look 'neath 'er helmet as she pressed o'few buttons on th'cage. It made o'*whining* sound then overloaded. Girl's body was disintegrated inna instant.

"NOOOOOOO!!!!" Science guy wailed, tears comin' outta his eyes.

Kazaar just smirked an' pulled his blaster. Shot th'Imp in th'stomach, sending 'im tumbling to th'ground. He moaned again as Kazaar strode towards 'im.

"Die slowly fracker." Gave 'im o'kick f'good measure.

Lady was back at th'computer tappin' o'few buttons. Prob'ly hoping the guy's notes were on it so she could take 'em. "We have a problem."

"Tell me somethin' new." Th'ex-bounty hunter was by 'er side pretty quickly.

"This computer has been wiped clean. There's nothing on here. There were four levels of security when I tried to get on originally, now there's none."

"Empire gotta buncha invisible stormtroopers they send down t'frack with us while our moanin' crazy was goin' nuts?"

De'Ville shook 'er head. "No. I think someone remotely did it."

Kazaar crossed 'is arms. Sure that could be o'reason but how th'frack would he know. Hated computers with o'frackin' passion. Hell, normally let th'Kid or 'Trey' do all the computer work. Frackin' things sucked.

Lady was tappin' another couple buttons. "Yeah...someone remotely did it. Still gotta be here though (tone sounded lot like Kazaar's then). I think it's upstairs."

"Command Center?" Kazaar was slingin' 'Evey' from 'er holster on his back. De'Ville was already headed t'the door. Guess that was 'er answer.

They got outta th'lab only t'see 'bout 20 Imps standin' with blasters aimed right at 'em. Lead guy was another prissy-faced officer who'd prob'ly got off on just wearin' th'damn Imperial uniform. "Don't...move." Imp smiled.

If th'guy coulda seen th'look on Kazaar's face, his smile prob'ly woulda just frozen.

"So whatta ya think, Lady...take th'nine on th'right an' I got the 11 on th'left?"

De'Ville rolled her eyes at Kazaar's quips, but the expression was lost inside her helmet. If she wasn't holding back to maintain her cover, she could have take out half the group without even using her blaster.

"Sure," she said on the internal comm as the prissy officer motioned four of his troops forward to 'take care' of them. "Whatever you don't get I will clean up."

Her SG-4 twitched up and she started blasting away, hitting the knees of the Stormtroopers nearest to her and then working her way up. She took a hit in the chestplate that left a smoking circle of carbon scoring on the armor, but she left herself facing the troopers rather than twisting to present a smaller target. Showing them her side would expose the seams in her armor which were not well suited for absorbing and dissipating blaster bolts like the major pieces were.

The officer had been forgotten for the moment as the hallway dissolved into a full blown close quarters firefight. Suddenly he and the two Mando'a were the only ones standing. No... the two Rebels. Lilaena frowned to herself as she leveled her blaster rifle at him. "Take us to the command center."

Th'Imp's eyes were pretty wide. Kazaar smirked. Guy must've almost pissed 'is pants by how quickly he'n De'Ville took out his stormtrooper guard. Pretty frackin' fun being feared at times.

Th'ex-bounty hunter pressed one o'the Twins by th'Imp's head. "Now fracker. Move ya ass."

The officer didn't bother stoppin' as he led 'em towards the command area. Kazaar kept 'im 'least a couple feet in front, just in case the guy decided t'grow o'set. He didn't. Just kept leadin' down the boring-ass grey halls until he got to o'staircase heading up.

"It's just up here." Officer's voice'd lost all ovva its prissy-ness and seemed more t'be focusing on staying alive. Not o'bad choice. "It's keycarded, I'll need to get it ou-"

"Which pocket ya got it in."

Th'Imp visibly *gulped*. "Inside my jacket..."

Sonova...Kazaar was 'bout ready t'shoot the guy. He sure as hell wasn't 'bout t'play 'grope th'Imp' forra damn card.

"Take the jacket off and give it to me." De'Ville's voice seemed t'relax the Imperial o'bit. Probably didn't wanted Kazaar touchin' him either. "Slowly."

Usin' one hand, the guy took off 'is brown coat. 'Least he was wearing a T-shirt underneath...guy's skin was pasty. "Gotta get out more pal." Kazaar smirked.

Lady took th'jacket an' fished around in it a bit. Her hand came out holdin' a blue keycard and she quickly swiped it in the door. It opened with hardly a sound and the trio went in.

Place looked lot like th'other command center's Kazaar'd been in. Pretty stale, buncha small computer consoles built into th'wall with chairs in front o'the monitors. In the middle was o'large table computer. Probably where th'base commander'd be. So he could watch allah his minions at work.

In fact, standing behind th'table was o'slight man. The guy's hair was startin' to thin outta bit, but was o'streak of red. His face was slightly freckled but only brought out his hard green eyes. The Imperial wore the black of an intelligence officer and his hands were covered in tight gloves.

"Yes." Guy's voice was surprisingly deep and sounded like he was starin' at three annoyances instead o'two heavily armored Mandalorians/Rebels and one o'his own officers. "I take it there's a reason for this interruption Lieutenant? I was told not to be both-"

BLAM!

Kazaar's blaster echoed through th'command center an' the prissy Lieutenant's body hit th'ground hard with a hole in his head.

'Bout then the lead Imp turned his freckled face towards th'Rebels. "So...you're the two Mandalorian bounty hunters who have been making things...difficult...here.

"What do you want?"

De'Ville ignored the Imperial, mildly curious as to what Kazaar would do to him and content to let that play out. She made her way to the main terminal and inserted the datastick, the code-breaker going to work on the encryption.

"This is gonna take a while," she said through the internal comm. No need to tip off this Imperial. "Seven, ten minutes maybe. Gotta get through security and then download the information... and there is a banthaload of it." She suddenly realized that she was unconsciously adapting her dialect to more closely match her partner's, and it was annoying.

De'Ville fished a datacard from her suit, and hoped she could get all the files onto it. It was supposed to have sufficient memory, and she had a back up or two, just in case, but if she had to switch out cards this would take at least a minute longer.

"Pretty frackin' simple pal." Kazaar wasn't aiming for th'Imp but made sure it hadn't gone outta sight. Wanted t'give Imp th'Red o'message. Don't frack around.

"You want to know what going on." The Imperial didn't seem impressed. In fact, way he looked he was pretty frackin' unimpressed. Guy wasn't giving o'damn. Pissed Kazaar off an' also made him kinda wary. "You've seen what's been happening.

"People have become full of anger, racing around and biting people, infecting them with some type of virus you don't understand." Imp th'Red seemed pretty frackin' pleased with himself. His eyes seem t'gaze outside th'viewport towards the city. "Something you can't wrap around your brain."

He still hadn't moved. "Sadly, this experiment is a failure. "

Kazaar coulda shot 'im right then. Somehow kept himself from doin' that. Must be th'Kid rubbin' off on him. Or something.

Instead, he just gritted his teeth an' growled. "Ya call this o'fracking experiment? Messin' around with people who don't know what kinda frackin' shit you're doin' to 'em? More like Force-damned torture if ya ask me."

The Imperial's laugh was hollow. "Yes, an experiment. Conducted by a mad doctor who should have been controlled more." He almost seemed to shrug. "But sadly, that's not the case. Too much chaos is never a good thing."

BLAM

Kazaar's blaster bolt just bounced away. Frack...Shoulda known th'fracker woulda had a shield on. Guy obviously was an asshole but o'smart one. Ya don't get t'being bald and runnin' experiments on planets if ya don't have some kinda brains between ya ears. Even if the brains are fracked up.

The Imperial chuckled. "Ah me...you Mandalorians never did understand control did you? Too bad. You'd understand why this failed. The virus is too unstable. Too many adverse effects on the human body. Perhaps with more experiments it could be harnessed but I somehow doubt it."

Th'Imp gave *tsk* as if staring at a child who'd spilled their milk. "Oh well..." His left thumb bounced off 'is chair's armrest. "I'll file it in my report..."

WHUMPH!!!

Compound was suddenly shaken as o'loud, but muffled explosion was heard outside th'compound. Kazaar turned t'see the entire city'd gone from durasteel black an' brick to some kinda white/grey. And it'd started snowing 'neath as well. Except it didn't look like real snow. Looked more like...

"Ash..." Both Kazaar an' De'Ville were almost gawkin' at the town.

"It's frackin' ash..."

Bastard had just incinerated the entire damn town...

The backlash through the Force was sudden and powerful, and De'Ville had to put a hand down on the computer console to steady herself. Kazaar was cursing over the internal comm, and the Imperial was gloating behind his shield, and the console beneath her beeped.

All the information had been sliced out and stored in the datastick. She struggled momentarily to pull out the stick, and then carefully placed it in its spot inside her suit. Without turning around, still leaning on the console, she stretched with the Force, overloading the circuits of the Inquisitorate officer's personal shield.

Kazaar saw the shielding flicker and fade away, and De'Ville could almost hear his sudden grin as he raised his blaster rifle.

Kazaar only shot th'blaster rifle twice, but it did its job. Blaster bolts tore into th'Imp's left shin 'causin' him t'pitch forward in his command chair an' to the ground. Kazaar was on 'im in a moment's notice, giving the Imp a rabbit's punch so he wouldn't pass out.

The Rebel stood on the Imp's back an' looked towards De'Ville. Seemed o'little shaken but was startin' to get 'er bearings.

"See if they gotta couple med kits 'round here." Kazaar just kinda stared down at th'fallen Imp. Then bent down an' pulled out o'long vibroblade. Started cuttin' along the fracker's uniform, makin' sure the jacket was cut away. Guy was wearin' o'tank top below and had o'tattoo with a symbol he pretty much recognized almost immediately.

Guy was o'Inquistor. One o'Valten's little minions. Bastard was testin' out whatever the hell he just blew up to see if it'd work onna larger population. Frackin' bastard. Kazaar could feel th'hate startin' to boil over. Encouragin' him t'keep going an' obey the desires to unleash o'monster he hardly ever touched.

He kicked th'thing (long let any notion's the Imperial was o'person) over onto its back an' started pullin' off the creature's boots and pants.

De'Ville asked him o'question he didn't hear, was too focused on the thing in front of him. She had a couple med kits and Kazaar pulled outta few bacta patches.

First ones went on the blaster wounds on the Imperial's legs. Kazaar put o'couple more on the bastard's shoulders an' wrists, then a couple on the fracker's naked thighs. Hefted th'Imp over his shoulders an' brought him towards the durasteel wall.

Time to go to work.

Vibroblades slid into skin an' bone with sharp *thunks*. Bastard cringed, then screamed as th'pain shot through its body in sharp pricks.

"Whatta ya know..." Kazaar smirked. "Ya finally woke up."

Imp's freckled face suddenly looked 'round an' screamed in horror.

The Inquisitor was hangin' from the wall with vibroblades stickin' outta it like some damn pin cushion.

"I want ya t'feel the pain as it goes through ya." Kazaar's guttural voice was sinister. His laugh had o'sadistic tone t'it. He ran one o'his free vibroblades down th'frackers chest.

"See ya gonna hurt a helluva lot longer than the people ya massacred." Kazaar laughed again an' dug th'blade into the flesh on the bastard's arm. Pulled it back an' watched the blood started t'stream down the wall.

Wasn't enough. Bastard deserved so much frackin' more pain. So much...Kazaar exposed muscle, then o'bit o'bone on the arm.

An' laughed again.

'Bout that time he noticed De'Ville standin' next to him. "Lady." Kazaar's voice was scarily pleasent. Had o'tone like he was starin' at fruits inna cart. "Wanna take o'shot at 'im?"

She was watching him almost clinically, feeling strangely detached as Kazaar tortured the officer. The vibroblade was an unbelievably sharp weapon, blade sonically charged to instantly cut through just about anything. The Rebel barely had to touch it to skin to lay the Imperial open.

For some reason it made her think of Hawkins Grime.

"I was thinking, actually, that we should probably be getting out of here. Before some other office on the outside gets cute with your ship."

She shifted her weight on her feet, and added, "You can take him with, if you're bound and determined to frell him up some more."

Kazaar's laugh was hollow. "Those frackers on th'outside got no Force-damned idea what the hell's goin' on. Or they're dead." That was o'pretty pleasant thought to Kazaar.

"But this fracker." Ran th'blade down the Imp's chest leavin' a wide cut. "Naw...he stays."

Took him 'bout five minutes t'pull skin away from rib muscle an' another two t'get down to the bone. Did th'same to the legs and other arm. 'Bout 15 minutes in all.

Kazaar could be frackin' efficient when he wanted to. An' all the while the Imp screamed in pain. But couldn't pass out. Kazaar wouldn't let him.

After 'nother five minutes o'torture, the Rebel disemboweled the Imperial an' left 'it hangin' by the two blades in the wrists.

"Let's get th'frack outta here, Lady." He smirked beneath his helmet an' laughed an almost hideous laugh. "Time t'go home."

Led 'er out the door in silence. Hell, the entire damn building'd gone silence. Just a buncha bodies lying 'round where they'd been shot. Eerily peaceful in some fracked up way.

Kinda how Kazaar wanted it. Too busy savorin' what he'd done.

De'Ville nodded, letting Kazaar take point as she lifted her blaster rifle and followed, going through the motions of checking doorways and such as they went, but she felt the emptiness of the building through the Force. She didn't say anything, didn't think there was anything to say.

The stairwell was quiet as they maneuvered through the command building. Once they got to sections that they hadn't been in previously, the two Rebels tightened up their high/low positions, working together in silence as though they'd been partners for years.

Still, the whole place was empty. It was eerie, or would have been if De'Ville wasn't concentrating on making sure there were no surprises waiting for them.

They slipped outta th'base without running into any trouble. Kazaar was 'least expecting a couple stormies to be runnin' around like Ewoks with their frackin' heads off. Instead there was nothin'.

Just one lone Imp officer (same prissy lookin' fellow who'd waved 'em in few hours before) asleep inna guard house. Not even worth wastin' the energy on.

They made it to th'Night Train an' Kazaar keyed in the entry code. 'Trey' was waitin' for 'em at the top of the entrance ramp.

"Those frackers try t'do anything." Kazaar just kinda smirked at th'response he got from the R7 droid. "Really...tried t'place a trackin' device on the rear landin' gear. What'd ya do?"

'Trey' *twittered* a response an' seemed t'be almost laughing.

"Ya drop o'pulse grenade on 'em? Damn...what'd they do after that?" Kazaar chuckled. "Didn't approach? Nice work. We'll hit up Anarak make sure Imps didn't leave any presents ya might've missed.

"Don't worry 'Trey,' ain't sayin' ya did o'bad job." Finally took off 'is helmet as th'loading ramp closed. "Just wanna make sure. Paranoia ain't o'bad thing."

He opened one o'his four humidors on th'way to the cockpit and grabbed o'pretty dark cigar. Acrid smoke filled the air as Kazaar started puffin' away. Tasted pretty damn good. So'd the double o'bourbon he gulped from as he slid into the pilot's seat.

"Let's get outta here."

Few minutes later an' De'Ville and Kazaar were leavin' Sestooine.

De'Ville ignored the conversation between Kazaar and the droid, walking instead to the armory where she put aside her borrowed weapons for cleaning. The ship took off, and she steadied herself against the bulkhead with a hand, and then found a seat to strap into for the jump to lightspeed.

Once they were well on their way, a process of just a few minutes, De'Ville started taking off the Mando'ade armor. First, the helmet, which she placed on its stand. Then the microweave flightsuit was carefully undone, though she had to do a bit of twisting to get at the connections.

Generally, this wasn't something she was used to doing on her own. As Manda'lor she always had someone to help her in and out of her armor. A grunt in the doorway startled her, and then the smell of Kazaar's cigar wafted in, followed shortly by the man himself in his blood stained armor. Her nose twitched, and she watched him without expression, still absently tugging on her suit to get the fasteners undone.

Kazaar'd already gotten his wrist gauntlets off an' was massaging his wrists. Wasn't that they hurt, but gauntlets always left o'weird feelin,' like his hands felt almost naked without 'em. Pretty frackin' stupid since Kazaar hardly ever work th'Mandy armor.

"Here, lemme get th'back." Got behind De'Ville an' started undoin' the clasps. She shucked off th'top, showing her scarred back 'neath her bra. "Why I don't always wear armor. Tough as all hell t'get off."

Kazaar turned 'round while De'Ville took off her pants an' slid on a pair of shorts he'd brought in. Kazaar popped the two clasps on his shoulders. "Grab th'two back clasps will ya? Ain't that flexible and th'heavy duty armor makes it pretty frackin' tough f'me to pull it off."

She nodded, moving around behind him and pulling on the clasps until they popped open. He pulled at the heavy armor, and she helped him get the top part off, taking it and putting it on it's stand while he took care of the pants.

"Going to be a hell of a clean-up job," she said quietly, running her finger down the chest plate next to a bit of congealing blood. De'Ville turned and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "You have done that before. Tortured a man to death. You knew what you were doing."

Her skin pimpled under a sudden breeze of cool air from the vents, reminding her she was barely clothed. She walked over to the blaster rifle she'd set aside, taking it apart with smooth efficiency.

"'Trey'," Kazaar keyed his comm. "When ya done gettin' us into hyperspace, bring that armor cleanin' kit down."

Gave Lady o'hooded look. "Yup. Did it to o'few frackers who were hoggin' air they oughta be letting others have. Frackers who were preyin' on people they shouldn't've. Or Imps who frackin' deserved it. Bastards. Wasn't 'nough. He'll woulda done more if their frackin' bodies hadn't crashed. Pain I give 'em'll never match what they doled out. Frackers deserved it."

Pulled apart one o'"The Twins" an' started cleaning 'er. "What ya expect just t'shoot the frackin' pieces o'bantha crap? The hell's wrong with ya?"

She laughed at that, a throaty chuckle as she started scraping off the carbon scoring inside the barrel of the rifle. "Merely an observation, Kazaar." She set aside the power cell, and returned to cleaning, doing a quick, but thorough job.

De'Ville leaned her hip against the counter and looked across at him, one hand idly rubbing her belly. "How about a drink?"

Kazaar smirked. She was talkin' his language. He downed 'is glass an' strode outta the room, tellin' De'Ville to follow. Turned out th'only place he didn't have alcohol stored was th'armory. Sure there was room but Kazaar figured he'd need more space f'blasters, explosives an' the like.

Felt the Night Train speed up o'bit as it hit hyperspace. 'Least they were leavin' that hell of o'world behind. Frackin' Imps. Thought of that damn plague was makin' him pissed again.

Kazaar sneered t'himself as he poured o'drink, downed it, then poured one f'De'Ville and another for himself. Handed th'strong liquor t'De'Ville an' plopped down inna chair, cigar smoke comin' outta his mouth.

An' yet there was still somethin' buggin' him.

"How'd ya get hooked up with th'Mandys?"

She'd pulled a zip up sweatshirt on as they'd passed 'her' room, but hadn't zipped it. "How did you?" De'Ville swirled the amber liquid in her glass, then drank it down, helping herself to more before joining Aurelias in sitting down.

She shrugged, already feeling a bit of a warm glow from the liquor. "Maybe I was born into it."

"That o'fact." Kazaar smirked. Kinda surprised he seemed t'caught De'Ville off guard on the Mandy question. Wasn't like she hadn't frackin' spoken Mando'a durin' their battle in the hospital.

"If ya that damn good ovva fight (and ya sure as shit are) how come ya ain't hooked up with Death Watch or th'Mandalorian Protectors? Sure those guys could use ya." Drained 'is glass and grabbed o'beer.

"Ain't sayin' ya ain't welcome here, but I figure ya didn't join th'Rebels to frackin' run 'round on planets blowin' up plague carriers or hangin' 'round my ship in shorts anna jacket."

Held up the bourbon bottle. "Want 'nother?"

She considered it for a moment, then finished her glass and held it out. He refilled it, and De'Ville leaned back in her seat. "Are you like the Mando'ade police? Gonna turn me in? Rogue clan member with mysterious past..."

De'Ville sipped her drink, finding that it was stronger than she'd figured and she better not drink anymore. "Sounds like we have a lot in common."

She set her glass down lightly, zipping up her sweatshirt and tucking her long bare legs up underneath her.

"Funny how that kinda turns out." Kazaar admitted.

Beer felt good goin' down. Hell, might even get rip-roarin' drunk. Been o'while since that'd happened. Successful mission, buncha Imps killed...why th'frack shouldn't get get all tore up. Could be fun.

"Hell, my dad got kicked outta Death Watch." Kazaar smirked. "'Parently he had an issue with torture. Figure those frackers be happy with o'guy who'd go down an' dirty, but since he only wanted t'torture rapists an' slavers...

"Ya believe he became o'Force-damned archeologist anna protestor...funny what life throws ya."

De'Ville raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "Seems a drastic career change."

She picked up her glass again, and sipped the alcohol slowly. Of course, it was already too late for attempting moderation. You don't drink, she scolded herself, and then told herself to shut up. Lilaena drained the glass for the third time, holding the empty in her lap between both hands.

"I didn't care what you did to that man," she said abruptly. "You were right, he deserved it." And more. "Jus' caught me by surprise." She reached up, scratching her back over her shoulder.

She looked sideways at him, a glimmer of something dark in her green eyes. "Felt real good, didn't it."

Kazaar chuckled. Same guttural, speeder with o'bad motivator laugh. "Yeh, did. Wouldn't o'done it if it wasn't fun. Fracker deserved it. Hell, sent o'fracking message to th'Empire. 'Least one o'the Rebels ain't frackin' 'round with that diplomacy bullshit.

"All for protectin' the innocent. Hell, why I took m'time with that bastard, whoever th'frack he was." Drained his beer an' switched back to the bourbon. Refilled De'Ville's glass too.

"If I'd ever gotta hold o'Vader, Tarkin, Palpatine...those bastards woulda been 'live for days while I cut 'em up. Woulda let 'em feel where I was comin'."

Took another drink. "Prob'ly the only thing I wouldn't've done was skull-frack 'em. That's how frackin' thorough I woulda been.

"How 'bout you? Ya ever take ya time with someone?"

She shook her head slowly, a strange sensation making her face feel a little numb and her limbs tingly. "I was taught to make efficient kills. Waste no time."

De'Ville paused, swallowing more bourbon before continuing. "I would have torn Palpatine apart with my bare hands." Her voice was quiet, her eyes flat and cold... and then she blinked, focusing on Kazaar's face. "Somebody beat me to it, o' course. Now... there's only one person I would torture. An' o' course they're dead too."

She shifted in her seat, scratching at her back again. "She taught me control, but lacked it herself. Dunno why I never realized it before."

"Funny what we learn eh?" Kazaar took o'long draw on his cigar an' let the smoke waft out. Mixed with th'booze it tasted pretty frackin' good.

"Ever think 'bout just lettin' loose? Or ya think she tried t'teach ya control 'cause she lacked it?"

"She was a crazy bitch," she said slowly, as though she was trying out the words for the first time. "I have no idea why she did what she did."

Lilaena looked down and found her glass empty again. She set it aside a little unsteadily. "I was jus' a child when she gave me my scars. Well, th' Empire redid them f'me recently. But I used to... to thank her for correcting me."

Another woman might have cried, talking about things she'd never allowed herself to think about for too long. De'Ville just sat and stared at her empty glass, eyes hooded and smoldering with anger.

Kazaar's black eyes flashed in his own anger. Frackin' Imps. Fracking psycho dames. "The hell she'd try t'correct ya for? What ya decide t'not kill a buncha people who didn't deserve it."

He shook 'is head an' filled both their glasses. "Never understood bastards who preyed on innocents. Sorry ya didn't kill that bitch...ya get the Imps who tortured you?"

"Not yet."

She unclenched a hand and reached for her glass, the liquor sliding warmly down her throat. There were red half-moon marks on her palm that she could see through the liquid, and she realized that she had dug her fingernails in fairly deeply without noticing.

Control.

What good was control? Control over others, control over yourself. De'Ville's eyelids flickered, her chest a roiling mass of growing anger that was pushing at her throat, constricting her neck and making it hard to breathe normally. A'na Eldhil had abused her. Taken advantage of her trust and rewarded her with ashes.

Lilaena closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Ya want help?" Kazaar blew smoke outta his mouth, then took another drink. "Gotta give those frackers something t'fear. And if th'bosses ain't, why the frack can't we?"

"Timing's not right," she said, but she didn't turn down the offer.

Thinking about A'na was a bad idea. Talking about her was a worse one. What was she thinking? Kazaar wasn't trustworthy. He was a psychotic Rebel who'd just flayed a man alive and enjoyed it -

Wait.

De'Ville closed her eyes, a hand rubbing her forehead lightly while the other clutched her drink. Back to A'na. Another face had appeared in an old memory - a boy. He was watching as their master whipped her for making a mistake in a kata. Just... watching.

Salemescro. Salem.

Lilaena felt a damp sensation, and blinked her eyes open, surprised to find that the glass had exploded in her hand leaving her clutching broken shards. "Krasst!" Her sweatshirt was covered in glass and booze, and for a moment she just stared at her hand, slowly opening her fist and gazing at the blood.

Moved into action pretty frackin' quick. Kazaar grabbed o'heavy-duty med kit and popped it open. Grabbed o'couple gauze pads, tweezers and o'few bacta patches.

"Hold still Lady," Placed his hand on hers while he started diggin' glass outta De'Ville's palm with the tweezers. Her hand wasn't too torn up but she'd need the bacta patches. Pulled glass outta her fingers, cleaned the wounds an' started wrappin' 'em with the patches.

Couldn't help but chuckle. "The frack am I ya personal medic...always patchin' ya up. Gonna be alright? Won't be carryin' any weapons forra day or two. Good thing ya ain't o'FU right? Hafta not carry their damn sabers eh?"

"'M right handed," she said, eying him suspiciously as he worked on her off hand. What was with all the Force user comments?

Lilaena turned her head too quickly, and the room started a slow, lazy spin around her. "I don' usually drink." She closed her eyes, and saw a face with pale white eyes imprinted on her eyelids.

She opened them again. "I'll be fine." He was just about done wrapping her injuries, and she pushed to her feet, glass falling from her lap to the floor. And she had no shoes on. De'Ville glared at the deck, unzipping her soiled jacket and removing it. "Sorry 'bout the mess..."

She looked around, and had a sudden picture of playing 'hot lava' and having to use the furniture to get out of the room. Her glare melted into a sudden grin. "What the hell's happening to me, this's gettin' ridiculous."

"Here, lemme help ya." Kazaar grabbed 'er uninjured arm an' placed it over his shoulder. His left arm went 'round her waist just below 'er scars. Lady wasn't trashed but was sure as hell drunk off 'er ass. She'd be feelin' it in the mornin' that was f'damn sure. Took her into 'er room, noting 'Trey' had set out some water anna towel. Frackin' droid thought o'everything.

Set down with 'er on the bed. "Don't hafta apologize. All gotta let loose at times."

"Not really," she said, laying back until her shoulders rested against the bulkhead, her legs dangling off the side of the bunk. Lilaena propped her elbows up underneath her to make the position more comfortable.

She looked over at Kazaar, a strange sort of sad smile on her face. He was looking a little fuzzy and she blinked to sort out her eyes, but it didn't have any effect. "One for the books, I guess. Las' time I got drunk was... after Endor."

She twisted her body away from him, pulling her legs up onto the bed and curling up a little on her side. "Things... jus' never are what they seem, are they?" Her voice sounded small.

De'Ville felt th'bed shift an' a hand touch her shoulder. Kazaar laid on his back an' his left arm slipped underneath Lady's back. More comfortable that way.

"We all got secrets." Kazaar agreed, tryin' not t'make this even more awkward than it was turnin' out t'be. He sure as hell wasn't 'speciting t'talk 'bout life with some dame he'd just killed o'buncha Imps with an' gotten drunk. But here he was doin' it. Could be worse, he supposed. Could be Spenny he was talkin' with. That guy'd never shut up.

"Just matter with what ya do with 'em. Let 'em kill ya or make ya stronger. One's easier than th'other. Gonna get scarred one way o'the other. Why th'frack not give 'em some o'their own scars if ya can."

"I am beskar," she said quietly, feeling him beside her, his touch on her skin. In her current state it was arousing, but she was not so far gone as to completely abandon her principles. His arm was under her neck, and she shifted slightly to more comfortably rest on it, her own arms drawn up against her chest in a protective manner.

"Stronger than steel." Her eyelids drooped and her breathing evened out as sleep began to overtake her.

Kazaar just kinda smirked as he felt De'Ville's breath start t'get o'bit more relaxed an' fall asleep. Wasn't completely tired but wasn't gonna move. Figured Lady wouldn't kill 'im if he stayed there while she slept. Wasn't like he was gonna take advantage o'her or anything.

Had t'chuckle to himself. Didn't spend o'lotta time hangin' with drunk half naked women, while he was half naked too, which didn't end with each other bumpin' knees.

Wasn't the time f'that. Had o'sneaky feelin' De'Ville probably be pissed at 'im if he did.

So Kazaar just kinda lay there, listenin' to 'er breath.

Both t'be stronger than steel. Way life way. Either let it kill ya or get stronger.