Deliverance

[Jarek T'chort]

(ooc - open to ImpSov members)


Crimson leaves of a thousand Virra trees covered the hills above the township of Ikkith like a blanket. The autumn had arrived early it seemed, along with the rains, driven from the seas by the sharper winds, ushered in by the changing seasons.

Ikkith was a picturesque town, some forty miles from Bestine City. Fruit vendors competed with fish mongers in the narrow streets from market stalls for customers. Life continued as ever, despite the war which had left its debris in the form of several ruined houses where Republic troops had holed up during the intense fighting for the Ikkith valley.

Beyond the town, a short hike up the surrounding hills, lay an ornate Chateaux, belonging to an wealthy entrepreneur, who had fled Bestine IV on the eve of the Imperial invasion. It had remained empty - the halls no longer echoing the high notes of terrible Coruscant pop music sung by the out of tune owner, nor were the elegant, expensive speeders (which the Entrepreneur had payed insane amounts of credits for) still sitting in the courtyard. A wily local had seen fit to make off with them in the turmoil.

Yet the house was again occupied. Expensive speeders gave way to military vehicles and a pompous owner, to several officers of the Imperial General Staff - and one Field Marshall.

Jarek T'chort waited at the door of the Chateaux, one arm raised against the door frame. He wore a camouflaged tunic, with his Imperial Cross at the neck, tied with a red ribbon. Plain olive pants ran down to ankle length combat boots which stood atop the slab of stone the former owner had set as a doorstep. His other hand rested atop his holstered blaster. Several troops lined the courtyard, or patrolled nearby. Only a small protection force, which were selected from Jarek's personal guard. Finally, a pair of elite Stormtroopers flanked the Commander of the Imperial Army, blaster rifles holstered, yet no less imposing.

Few knew of this meeting which as to take place. Only these trusted men; a Colonel Magil, who commanded the sea navy on Bestine, Major Vryss - T'chort's adjutant and a Lieutenant General Camminetz of the General Staff, with his aides. All these men T'chort knew personally, counted as friends. Could be trusted. He was now waiting for another man he trusted - Commodore Teleran Balades of the Fleet. At the last word, he was headed down in his shuttle to the rendezvous, but when he would arrive could be anytime in the next ten minutes. Minutes that T'chort could feel slipping past him.


Matters of gravity were to be discussed.

[Teleran Balades]

Commodore Teleran Balades stood behind the pilot's seat of his new S105 modified Lambda shuttle as the craft dropped through the Stratosphere, shields flaring red-gold from the friction against the atmosphere.

The commodore fingered the rank insignia clasp on the left breast of his field-gray tunic. It too was new. His second promotion in several months, awarded for his capture of Teyr and Vulvarch, as well as his efforts here at Bestine. He hadn't expected to advance as rapidly as he did.

A sudden jolt as the shuttle crossed into the troposphere and was buffeted by the strong autumn winds. Balades relished the discomfort. This was the first time in two weeks that he'd been at the mercy of natural forces; a thing sorely missed on the purely artificial gravity of a Star Destroyer.

Far below through the streaks of wispy grey clouds, the main continent of Bestine was coated in the vivid colors of Virra leaves. A tiny point at the peak of a valley slowly swam into focus as the shuttle drew nearer, revealing itself to be the large Chateaux to which Teleran had been summoned.

Tel thought about the message he had received from Field Marshall T'chort. To have a staff gathering at such a remote location and not on one of the orbital stations was odd, especially when he had been specifically told to come alone. At any rate, it was a chance to get away from stale recycled air and dull durasteel walls. Besides, the last the Tel had seen his friend was during a rather disastrous hunting trip in the forests of Asmeru.

When the shuttle touched down infront of the manor-house and the boarding ramp lowered, a temperate, early autumn wind whipped through the opening. Tel took a deep breath of the fresh air before striding down the ramp and towards the entrance hall.

Tel's eyes scanned the courtyard. There was surprisingly light security around given that several high-ranking officers were here.

He ignored the fact for now as he walked up the steps. One took any chance possible to get away from being constantly being watched.

Tel wore a beaming smile as he spoke to the Army leader.

"It's good to see you again, my friend."

[Matthaeus Xulian]

The call had come late at night. The Falleen had just arrived from his three hour ordeal with becoming a registered xeno. Such procedure would return to haunt the Sovereignty, but he did not question Esalis.

He had been assigned as the liaison to the Inquisitoriate for Field Marshal Jarek T'chort, a task that proved somewhat difficult for a new Inquisitor, because the Field Marshal had disappeared to an undisclosed location. After pulling strings several layers of bureaucratic red tape, he had a possible Location. Bestine.

Matthaeus Xulian was dressed in the crimson red uniform of the Inquisitoriate. His presence on behalf of Esalis's Inquisitors would be announced in this manner. If T'chort was indeed even here.

The Lambda shuttle provided dropped into the atmosphere of the planet, swiftly heading for a manor in the hills. The pilot found a suitable location and put the craft down.

The Hydraulic landing ramp lowered slowly. Inquisitor Xulian's eyes pierced the autumn day, taking note of the light security. He marched stiffly through the Courtyard and up the stairs of the manor. He stopped right outside the door, eyeing the men who were engaged in conversation right inside.

"Field Marshal T'chort?"

[Jarek T'chort]

The sight of Balades brought a smile to Jarek's face. He extended a hand to the Commodore as he spoke.

" Thank you for coming so promptly. It's good to see you, also. I have certain . . . "

Jarek trailed off as his eyes turned skyward at the approach of another shuttle. A shuttle that was not expected. The Stormtrooper nearest to him muttered something into his comlink, leading to several soldiers nearby moving into ambush positions in the hedgerows and along the walls surrounding the courtyard perimeter.

" Our discussions can wait, Tel. "

Jarek gripped his blaster firmly as he watched the shuttle finally settle and disgorge an alien. A Falleen - in the crimson uniform of the Inquisitorate no less.

If T'chort's heart could've leapt to his throat, it would have. How could the Inquistorate possibly know of this meeting? Yet no red garbed troops followed, no others ships appeared in the clear skies. Just this solitary Falleen.

He cut off his thoughts and concentrated on the striding figure approaching him. Setting his face into a tight smile and investing authority into his voice he addressed the Inquistor;

" I am Field Marshall T'chort. Care to introduce yourself? "

[Matthaeus Xulian]

The Falleen remained emotionless, his stone face producing a piercing gaze. The gaze of the Inquisitoriate. The autumn wind blew causing the single ponytail of the Falleen's thick jet-black hair to whip about audibly. The immediate area was silent for several seconds as the Falleen smoothly clicked his heels together.

"I am Inquisitor Matthaeus Xulian."

Silence again.

"And I am your new Liaison to the Inquisitoriate."

[Teleran Balades]

Teleran kept a suspicious eye on the second shuttle as it descended. He wasn't aware of any others coming to this place via spacecraft. His suspicions were confirmed when Jarek reached a nervous hand to his blaster and the soldiers suddenly set up to amubsh the occupants. Tel followed their lead and moved his arm so that he could quickly draw his side arm.

When Tel first saw the Fallen donned in the crismson of the Inquisitoriate, Tel tensed even more, but withdrew his hand frm the blaster. A lone Inquisitor without any of their disrupter rifle toting Crimson Guard was more of an annnoyance than a threat. Balades wondered, however, just what this meeting entailed to merit the presence of the internal security officer-soldiers.

"I am Inquisitor Mattheaus Xulian...and I am your new Liason to the Inquisitoriate."

Tel's lips curled into a sneer and spoke with the bitterness all naval officers used when adressing the meddlesome Inquisitors

"Liason. The Inquisitoraite's use the term Liason whenever they want one of you filth to interfere with the armed forces. There's already one of you here why did they send a second. Or doesn't Valten know you're encroaching on his territory.?"

[Matthaeus Xulian]

"Someone isn't happy to see me." His mouth curled into a thin, evil smile.

Matthew looked at both men for several seconds.

"I was unaware that Valten was already assigned. Perhaps more of the Inquisitoriate would do nicely in OUR territory." He walked slowly towards the man.

"Lighten up gentlemen. We are all on the same side." He lowered his voice as he looked piercingly at Balades, now less than half a meter from the man.

"We are on the same side...Aren't we?" His question cruelly rhetorical

[Jarek T'chort]

" Enough."

The single word carried a weight that quashed any thought of sniping between the two officers. Neither shouted nor whispered, it carried the authority of the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army behind it.

Jarek stared at the Falleen before speaking, his voice somewhat silkier than the gruff exclamation that preceeded it.

" Welcome to Bestine, Inquisitor Xulian. We are, of course, on the same side. "

Signalling one of his men, the troops in ambush positions uncomfortably moved back to patrolling the area of standing sentry.

" If you gentlemen will follow me inside, we can begin the meeting. "

Without waiting for an answer, he turned his back and strode inside. He did not know of Valten, but it seemed Balades was having some sort of trouble with the Inquisitorate - something that annoyed Jarek. Balades had proven himself in battle many times, yet it was not enough for some it seemed. Passing into the main living area, a circular room with winding staircases at each end, the soldier gave a warm smile toward the already gathered officers. He waved a hand at the assembled row of chairs.

" Take a seat, please. "

[Matthaeus Xulian]

The Falleen gave Balades an inquisative glance, then nodded softly and followed the T'chort.

He allowed all the others to take their seats, never smiling, his face a stone. Finally, he silently took a seat.

[Telan Desaria]

The Kubelwagon staff repulsor-car bounced as it penetrated one then another security checkpoint on the winding road to the country-side chateau housing the commander of Imperial forces on Bestine. Placing the peaked visor cap on his head, the car's passenger gave a quick glance at the two hills on either side of the road - both were sloping with gentle rock-strewn outcroppings near the respective summits. Ever the trained Army officer, Vinjent Desaria could not have prayed for a better-set ambush: were he not the officer being driven along in an open-topped totally unarmored vehicle.


The sight of several small shuttles in the lot did not suprise Desaria as several other ranking officers were expected. He did not know who but was not suprised when he eventually saw the large fantail of a Lambda-class courier in use by the Fleet, its distinctive white a striking contrast to the grey hulled, dorsal olive-schemed ones of the Army. Someone has graced us with his presence from above. Please don't let ie be my brother...


The Kubelwagon ground to a halt in front of the chateau's main entrance, a standing camouflage-smocked stormtrooper opening his door. Lieutenant General Desaria received and returned the salute of several nearby officers, all the pilots of the arrived craft. He did the same when a middle-aged Major approached whose breaches had at their side the broad red stripe of the General Staff.


" If you will follow me, General; Marshal T'chort is expecting you."


Desaria followed, remembering he had seen the man before. Veers? Vryst? Vrix? As he thought he totally ignored the modernistic artwork adorning the halls - had he looked he might have wretched.


" Pardon me Sirs - Lieutenant General Desaria, Commander, IInd Corps of the Imperial Guard."


Hearing his announcement, Desaria removed his visor cap and placed it under arm, clicking his heels to a rigid attention. He was the only officer present with the white trouser stripe and cuff title of the Guard - though he did notice the same accoutrements in black on the Field-Marshal's uniform, a throw back from his days as Commandant of the Stormtroopers.

[Jarek T'chort]

The last officer to arrive was Vinjent Desaria, brother of the Commander of the Imperial Navy. Led in by Major Vryss, Jarek acknowledged him with a nod. He owed his life to the young panzer officer, whilst in convoy on Bastion, rouge elements had attacked his command car. Vinjent had arrived in the nick of time with his Panzer grenadiers, driving the rebels away.

Turning his eyes back toward the seated officers, he made a mental note of their demeanor. It was something Jarek prided himself on - sizing up his opponent, first appearances counted for a lot.

First, sticking out like a sore thumb, was Xulian. He was much different from Von Laang, the Falleen Fighter Corps Marshall. Von Laang had an amicable way about him, one felt at ease with him . . . but this being was different. He had a cold, superior arrogance about him. Traits that Jarek found detrimental in his line of work. Needless to say, what the Inquistorate found useful was another story entirely.

" Inquisitor Xulian, your arrival may well be exceptionally good timing. I shall need your assistance. "

T'chort noted too, the look Balades, sitting a few chairs away, was giving the Falleen. Balades was one of the ablest commanders in the Navy, with sound knowledge of the ships and men under his command. Someone whom Jarek trusted to back him up in the coming hour or two.

Desaria had taken a seat toward the back, oddly enough. But, Jarek reproached himself, perhaps not so odd. In the shadow of his brothers achievements, Vinjent perhaps felt the need to be somewhat in the background of things. A trait that was cast aside once he was leading his men into battle atop his command halftrack.

Colonel Magil, who commander of the sea navy on Bestine, was quiet too, his face pensive. His eyes wandered across the gathered officers under a heavy brow. Jarek knew Magil when they were both junior officers, from operations on Telar II, a small world not unlike Bestine. Something had changed in the man, however.

Lieutenant General Camminetz had already settled, one hand on his ornate ebony pipe, sending smoke rings dancing into the air. His moustache was perfectly groomed, not a hint of rebellion amongst the hairs above his lip. The red pant stripe of the General Staff denoted his position and importance on Bestine IV, a man who had seen much combat in his younger days, yet seemed far more at home amongst the maps and orders of the HQ staff.

The other officers; aides, guards and so on, T'chort ignored for now. One of these men gathered here, was, or at least knew, the source of Ciril. Ciril was the name ArmyIntel had given to the mysterious leaking of information from a section of ICB - Imperial Command Bestine.

T'chort had gathered these men here because of the information he already had. The ghost of suspicion fell across each man. All men T'chort trusted and had relied on in his past. Though it pained him, he knew he could find the leak by talking to these officers.

" You're probably wondering why you are all here. " T'chort began, " Each of you is here because you hold an important command on this world, is a sterling soldier. "

Turning his back to them, shutting his eyes as his mind worked to figure this whole mess out, he said it.

" Yet one of you . . . is a traitor. "

At that moment, the gathered men suddenly became aware of the presense of gas mask garbed soldiers, their lenses glowing a dull green above dark camo uniforms, their rifles displayed across their chests in readiness.

[Teleran Balades]

Yetone of you. . . is a traitor.

Balades straightened in his seat at those words. Those words seemed to have been constantly floating around for the last several days, but this ways the first time it was blatantly stated. The mood in the room was instantly turned into one of outrage and suspicion. Tel held his position without uttering any reproach as a few of the other officers were doing. His eyes lingered on the masked soldiers before he looked at each of officer.

"That's preposterous, I've served loyally my entire life." Balades couldn't tell who had spoken, it didn't matter, similar comments and even accusations followed.

Most of the officers gathered around were unfamiliar to Balades, the only one he new of was Vinjent and of course Major Vryss. whom he'd served with on previous occasions when T'chort was present.

Balades tried reading the people he was scrutinzing, but nothing showed. Then again, he wasn't an expert at physiognomy, that was the Inquisitoriate's duty. Teleran looked towards Xullian, who so far hadn't made any reaction. He was focused on the reactions of everyone else.

Tel stood up and spoke over the noise.

"Gentlemen, calms yourselves. Let's hear Marshall T'chort out before we jump to any conclusions."

[Matthaeus Xulian]

"Yet one of you . . . is a traitor."

He noticed several men stiffen. He on the other hand, did not. That word would be common in his position. He let a thin smile cross his lips. In a moment it was gone.

The room began to erupt into discussion, arguments of loyalty. His demeanor grew even colder as he passed his gaze over every man at the table, not moving on to the next until each had looked into his eye.


"Gentlemen, calms yourselves. Let's here Marshall T'chort out before we jump to any conclusions." Balades spoke out. The noise quieted down slightly.


He remained silent, sizing up the officers. Though a new inquisitor, he had dealt with traitors in his Criminal past. His specialty? All things psychological. One of the men knew he was on the verge of discovery, he would crack soon. All were once loyal, but in times of tested loyalty, even loyal men may break. And when they do, they crossed into my realm he thought.

[Demon-Kieran]

"He is right. Must we make assumptions before we have the facts?" The voice was quiet, yet cultured, possessing some power. "But if I may, the word I would use is not treachery....but espionage." Waiting silently, Major Demon-Kieran Devaneaux let that sink in before he stepped into the room. He had just returned from the Outer Rim - on an Imperial shuttle, his own transport vessel severely damaged and being repaired back on Thyferra, where the ship was registered. "Forgive my tardiness, sirs," he said to T'Chort and Balades. "I was......delayed....out on the Rim." Demon-Kieran noted the Inquisitor, and nodded in respect. "Yes, I say espionage. We are loyal to the cause. But what if someone was....inserted into our ranks by the Republic? I would not put it past them to attempt something like this." He seated himself at an empty place at the table. Glancing around, Demon-Kieran had an instinct that someone here was nervous, fearful of being discovered. But who? He was not sure....

[Telan Desaria]

There were a thousand thoughts running through Lieutenant-General Desaria's head when he listened to the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army announce the presence of a traitor. All of those thoughts wondered who, then wondered why. The Empire was a an ideal preaching order, justice, and glory. The Republic stood for democracy, chaos, and selfishness. How could anyone choose the latter over the former?


Desaria listened to Commodore Belades reply, himself stunned by the accusation but standing by T'chort nevertheless. Desaria had sat, legs crossed, his hands atop them but quikly withdrew his left to his side. His pistol sat there, stock forward - Guards officers liked to cross-draw. He silently unsnapped the leather strap in case he needed it, then returned his hand to its resting place on his breaches.


He remained silent. He was no traitor - he never had been nor would he. He would prove that by executing whoever confessed.

[Jarek T'chort]

Was he right to have gone the heavy handed approach and announce the presence of a traitor? Jarek was a man who, throughout his career as a soldier, had extensive training in subterfuge and guerilla tactics, making him invaluable to his superior officers. This compliemented his aptitude in the traditional aspects of warfare, his tactical ability and logistical organisation skills.

Yet now, hearing the voices of protests die down, Jarek believed this was in fact the best way to flush whomever was the source of Ciril.

" Ciril is the name given by the MISB to the three decibel transmission, beamed at random intervals by someone with access to the main computer system at the Bestine HQ. "

" Ciril has given small snippets of intelligence to our enemies, troop movements and so on, but also access codes to lower level security procedures. "

Jarek watched each man as he spoke, watching for any sign of recognition in their drawn faces.

" I had wanted to keep this matter internal, hence why I did not follow the usual counter-espionage channels. The fact is, I am dealing with someone I have placed trust in. "

His eyes burned with silent anger as he watched the officers before him.

" My trust has been betrayed, the matter is now personal. "

[Demon-Kieran]

"Who can it be, Marshal T'chort?" Demon-Kieran inquired. "Not I. I do not have access to the main system, because I have not been anywhere near this planet in the recent days, nor have I ever been here before. I reiterate my statement that I feel it is more espionage than treachery. We have loyal commanders and loyal soldiers, sir. But someone here does not fit in, I feel...call it gut instinct, or call it Force intuition. Take your pick."

[Teleran Balades]

Tel sat down again as the protesters quited down. He calmly looked around the room yet another time, looking for anything out of place. He saw that Lieutenant-general Desaria had unclasped the strap for his pistol holster. Balades was sure that none of the Desaria's would do anything against the Sovereignty. Tel smiled internally. If Vinjent was anything like Telan, he'd rush to be the first to put a blaster bolt through the traitor's throat.

Unfortunatly, or fortunatly depending on a person's view, none of the officers Tel could see were betraying anything to hint of nervousness.
Who ever it was was probably doing this best to remain in control.

The commodore threw a quick glance at his holster pistol and decided against freeing it's restraints, too many blaster firing at once in such closed quarters would do more harm than good. Instead, he made a snapping motion with his right wrist and the concealed blade in his sleeve fell into his hand. He kept a tight grip on the handle, but kept the blade hidden withiin the sleeve.

Tel looked at the speaking officer, noting the rank insignia of a major.

" Major, it doesn't matter whether it's espionage or turning against your own side, treason takes many different forms."

[Demon-Kieran]

"True," Demon-Kieran admitted. "That depends on who you ask of course, Commodore." He nodded in respect and returned to his silence, waiting for T'chort to continue speaking.

[Telan Desaria]

Lieutenant General Desaria noticed that that the ranking Naval officer had armed himself - he knew the man, Belades, in passing that is to say they had met. Operations on Bestine were the first their paths had crossed but with the exception of calling orbital aide in reducing a partisan strongpoint, they had not interacted to any extent.


The Guardsman looked around at the assembled officers and noticed with interest the presence of soldiers in full chemical gear. The notion of T'chort having the entire conference gassed and then testing each officer with a truth-agent was not far fetched. Regardless, he had not spoken yet. He needed to change that if for no other reason than to make his presence known.


" Treason needs to definition. We are not politicians - we need not squabble over semantics. Betrayal is betrayal and there is no distorting of coddling such a heinous act. I know this of betrayal - vengeance is the only viable solution. Any man who betrays his uniform betrays his oath, and his Empire.


" I offer no defense of myself. I need none. I am a combat officer and since arriving on this forested rock I have acted as such. I let my deeds speak for me."