A Matter of Force by: Elsbeth For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction

Captain Illian Drako, Imperial agent of the 3rd Intel Group, sat with his back against a wall, at the far end of a rundown Cantina. Ironically named ‘Chaos End,’ the bar sat in the wilder lower levels of the smuggler moon of Nar Shaddaa.

Like the planet Coruscant, Nar Shaddaa was an ecumenopolis or planet-wide city. Despite being full of crime, its opulence drew individuals who desired pleasure above all. For the truly unfortunate; they never left, becoming indentured servants to the Hutt lords or tossed into the protein vats to feed the billions of inhabitants.

Sitting in the small booth in front of him, an orange drink remained untouched. The drink, a mixture of alcohol and several Opioids, had been popular among certain criminal elements in a planet several sectors away.

As expected with that particular drink ordered, and sitting at the correct table, from across the room, a beautiful blue Twi'lek slave girl slowly sauntered up her hips gyrating to the loud music that filled the Cantina.

Even with the lighting set down well beyond the human norm, the Captain had no problems seeing the woman approach. With the slight cybernetic implant given to all Imperial Agents, switching to low light vision required no thought, his eyes simply adjusted to what’s needed.

“Need a date?” The Twi'lek slave, known to the bar patrons as Ardana, gave him a lusty smile. The girl was one of a dozen that Gorgun the Hutt ordered to work in the streets below. Many would-be surprised at her real profession, although perhaps not.

The Captain ignored the countersign, giving her a small pleasant smile. “I see that you are beautiful as ever, Ardana.”

With a slight bow, the Twi’lek slid into the booth pressing her small frame against his body. “That’s what I like about you, Mykar; you always dispense with standard protocol.”

She knew him as Mykar, and he knew her as Ardana, but of course, neither used their real names. Nor was the Twi’lek really a slave girl, nor was there really a Gorgun the Hutt. Well at least not anymore.

Slowly slipping her arms around his waist, she leaned forward to nibble on the Imperial Agent's ear. “Headquarters wanted to congratulate you on your last mission; however, they are a little confused about the smuggler. Although if I remember correctly, you are not particularly fond of drug smugglers, are you?”

The Twi’lek agent knew that Mykar did his job well. However, certain transgressors, he tended to follow up rather zealously.

Illian shrugged while palming a small disk into the front of her low cut blouse. “Here are updates to my recent reports” The disk now slipped into a small hidden pocket, allowed his hand to move freely downwards to gently cup her warm flesh.

“When you have the chance, I added an additional report on the smuggler's cargo. Have research check on the chemical signatures, they appear to be rather odd.”

Ardana gave a soft sigh as she reached for his hand, placing it in a more desirable location. “You didn’t have to come all the way to Nar Shaddaa to drop off these reports, you know.”

“True, but this way is much more pleasurable.” Illian leaned forward with a grin, slowly running his other hand up one of her lekku, or brain tails.

The young Twi’lek gave another soft moan. Leaning forward, she pressed her open lips to his. The two had known one another for several years, and although she hated to admit it, she looked forward to the time they spent together. Obviously, he felt the same, as she knew Mykar hadn't traveled halfway across the galaxy to simply drop off paperwork.

“So is it all business today Mykar or pleasure.”

“How about a little of each?”

--0--

Captain Drako sat on the edge of the hotel bed, in a much nicer sector of the moon. After a quick breakfast, Ardana had left, leaving him with even more data crystals to study.

With the sun breaking over the horizon, the Intelligence officer noted the time. If he didn’t hurry, he would be improperly dressed for his meeting. With one hand, Illian continued to read the datapad. With the other, he slowly got dressed.

According to the information stored in the data crystal, the smuggler he had captured that started the current operation, had no ties with any of the well-known criminal organizations. Not unusual, especially if you're particularly secretive about a cargo. However, being a smaller carrier, the need for extra credits had cost him dearly.

At the start, Vi’car, the smuggler in question, hadn't even been the Imperial Agents intended target. For the last several months, Illian had been following the work of a Kel Dorian arms merchant named Pakka.

Although normally, such merchants were ignored by the Imperium, Pakka started dealing with elements that happened to be unfriendly to the Empire. Captain Drako didn’t really care about the arms merchant himself, what he wanted were the names and locations of his new contacts.

As luck would have it, the two criminals just happened to cross paths on the planet Tatooine. Needing the extra credits to pay some hefty gambling debts, the ship’s Captain looked to make some easy money transporting the Kel Dorian to the swamp planet of Taris. What he didn’t expect was being boarded by Imperial Cruiser moments after leaving the desert planet.

Although at first, Illian had not planned on holding the smuggler, however, once, inside the ship, something told him to have all of the holds searched. Unfortunately for the smuggler, inside a hidden compartment in his quarters, a small case had been discovered. Inside the case were a dozen vials of some unknown drug

Now properly dressed, Captain Drako placed a small disk onto the floor in front of him. Moments later, it began to glow, projecting upwards a large hologram of Major Arjak of the 3rd Intel Group.

“Good morning, Captain.”

“Sir.”

“We have all of your recent reports, well done might I add. In the last few hours, we were able to obtain from your Kel Dorian friend the names of a good number of his customers and associates. Some, of course, we already knew, but a few surprised us.”

“Thank you, sir. Do I have permission to follow up on the smuggler's cargo?”

He half expected his superiors to order him to follow up on any names the Kal Dorian had already provided. What the Imperial Agent really wanted to do was hunt down those who manufactured the drugs found on the smuggler’s ship.

After speaking with the Medial Droid, Illian knew the drugs were not for medicinal purposes. What they were used for seemed uncertain. However, he couldn't continue with his investigation without further approval. Normally smugglers were not really something Imperial Agents bothered with unless to hire, but the unknown drug piqued his curiosity.

“You do, although your time is limited. Colonel Karo has already ordered a strike force to be assembled once we determine the location of several of Kel Dorian buyers. She would like you to be part of that operation.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“As for your smuggler, once we have had the time to interrogate him properly, we will send you that information. So while the analysts are busy going over who and what, I’ll have Major Hajar's group look into that chemical list, you provided. Her team always likes a challenge. If all of this warrants further investigation, then we will make plans from there.”

A few Imperial agents had some leeway on what assignments they might be placed on or what to follow up with when something interested them. The Captain thought of highly at headquarters was one such agent who didn’t need to be placed on a leash.

Captain Drako smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

As soon as the image disappeared, he reached for the rest of his equipment. At least he didn’t have to decide whether to break regulations to search for the drug manufacturers on his own. Very unprofessional, and would most likely damage his career; however, Illian wouldn't have let something as regulations get in the way. It didn't take much effort to remember holding his sister in his arms as she died from a drug overdose.

Running away from an Imperial orphanage, the two ended up in the lower levels of Taris. After a year of starving and almost being killed by roaming gangs, Illian wanted to get her to enroll in a decent school.

Resisting easy credits by joining any number of local gangs or criminal organizations, he had found numerous small jobs that landed the two of them in a one-bedroom flat. Luck seemed to be going his way when a friend asked him if he wanted to work down below.

Although extremely hazardous, cleaning the pipes underneath the city and dealing with the odd creatures that lived there, it paid rather well. Unfortunately, now, being alone most of the time, his sister started to run with the wrong crowd. Late one evening coming home from work, Illian found her dying in the center of their flat.

After her death, he went a little mad. With very little thought to his future, much less his own life, he hunted down and killed those responsible for giving her the drugs. With his eyes now on a larger prize, the young man worked his way to the dealers, and up the ranks of the cartel, assassinating quite a number of influential members.

Unknown to him, his own personal war had brought some recognition of the Imperial kind. They, too, wanted to deal with the drug manufacturers but not for the same reason. Not too long after, as any other choice would have resulted in prison or death at the hands of a cartel member, Illian found himself enrolled in the Imperial Academy.

His instructors were quick to note that living on the streets in Taris, the young man had gained certain skills. Transfer to Imperial intelligence seemed the best thing for Illian.

Most who knew the Captain understood that he had a certain outlook on the law. To him, those who broke the rules should be punished. He didn’t particularly love the Imperium, unlike some of his other brother and sister agents, who were almost fanatical with their loyalty. However, right now, the Sith Lords controlled things. They gave a sense of order in the chaos that made up the galaxy.

Of course, his lack of zeal had also kept him from advancing as rapidly as his skills and successful missions should have allowed, but that too didn’t bother him. He felt that as long as he did nothing that his sister Renn would be ashamed of, he would continue down the same path.

--0--

Inside his old R5 Mantis Patrol craft, Captain Drako knew that most agents would be surprised that he didn’t fly one of the new X-70B-Phantom ships. True, he had earned that recognition, but the Patrol craft suited his needs just fine. Especially with the latest additional private adjustments, he had made to the armament and engines.

Although the Captain had been on numerous undercover missions using various names, his favorite had always been Mykar the Bounty Hunter. For the most part, although not particularly welcomed, the profession could be found on almost every planet. In fact, if things were different, he might have ended up as one.

Pretending to be a Bounty Hunter had also proved useful when dealing with people he needed to talk to. Many happily discovered they weren’t his intended target and helped him along as quickly as possible.

“Swift Justice, this is Mos Ila control. You are required to land in docking bay 64, be ready for inspection. Please do not deviate from your flight path.”

Illian smiled as he prepared his ship for landing. He had known that he would be returning to the desert planet of Tatooine. The smuggler should have any number of contacts.

True, there was a chance that Vi’car had not picked up the drugs on the planet, but without the interrogation information, the planet was a good place to start as any. If nothing else, Illian expected half the citizens on Tatooine had a bounty on their heads.

Once long ago, the desert planet oceans full of life and a world-spanning jungle, but the biosphere had been destroyed by the amphibian Rakata before the rise of the Republic.

Although many animals adapted to this new environment, humans moved underground, many of them living out their lives as moisture farmers. Water, once plentiful, had become a precious commodity.

Illian smiled as he stepped off his ship into the docking bay. He found the word Inspection amusing, what an interesting name for a shakedown or rather an extortion. For a substantial payment, his ship would be left unmolested. Those who refused often found their ships missing. Others landed far from Mos Ila, but that too proved often unsafe. Luckily he already had a contract with one of the local security groups.

As expected, the inspectors were absent replaced by a small, well-armed mixed group of men and women. Their leader, a Rodian named Weizul, approached his ship.

“Mykar, your appearance is not unwelcomed.” The lizard-like humanoid spoke in its own language, which Illian had learned during his time in the academy.

“Greetings, Weizul, glad to see you’re on time.”

“You pay us to be on time, yes. Do you plan on staying long? If so, we can move your ship to a more guarded location.”

Mykar frowned; he didn’t know how long he would be down on the planet. “Less than a week, if I can’t find out what I’m looking for by then, I’ll have to leave.” Plus, the Imperial Agent half expected at any time for his superiors to order him to return to Coruscant.

“Excellent, then we will keep your ship safe. Good hunting.”

As usual, the first thing he noticed upon stepping onto the soil of the desert planet was the heat. Even with the local time being close to sunset, it was always impressive. Glad he didn’t plan an extended stay. Since protocol demanded he check in with his contact at Siltshift Cantina, a place Illian had intended to visit anyway, he headed there first.

Giving a slight nod to the two huge bouncers, the Captain walked up to the bar. Ordering a drink, he shifted his body around to get a good look at the other patrons. With the band Astromechalla playing in the lower levels, the Cantina seemed unexpectedly crowded.

“Mykar, trolling for work, I see.” A small, bald-headed human approached; obviously, from another part of the Imperium, he was dressed as a local but had the air of someone who thought himself important. Many in the bar knew him as a minor functionary for the Spaceport.

“What can I say, Hanno, a man has to make a living. You have anyone interesting that you need to be locked up.”

“Most of the planet.” The small man grumbled then with a theatrical sigh, slid a data crystal across the bar.

Grinning, Illian reached down and placed it in a pouch. “Want to share a drink with me?”

The small man shook his head; walking away, he could be heard mumbling something that sounded like. “I’d rather kiss a Wookie.”

Mykar turned back to the bar, the Imperial contact had just updated him on local information. He wouldn't be surprised if Hanno added a few bounties as well. Such things helped strengthen his cover, plus the Imperium most likely had outstanding warrants on half the people on the planet.

Leaning over, the Imperial Agent asked the closest bartender. “Want to tell me where I can find Captain Vi’car of the ship Moondancer?”

“No idea.” The man said, giving Mykar the eye.

Nodding, the Captain took a sip of the blue drink. “Not bad.” Throwing some credits onto the top of the bar, a tip much larger than the usual, Illian waited to see if the bartender would continue the game.

Looking at the credits for a moment, the green skin man shrugged. “Ask Trinna Yavok, I see the two of them together in here pretty often. She works down by the medical ward.”

“Thanks.” Ignoring the rest of the drink, the Captain headed off; however, a sense of unease settled on him. That had happened far too quickly. Not feeling particularly lucky at the moment, he trusted his instincts instead.

Making his way through the dusty street, he suddenly turned down an alley. Without a thought, Illian leaped into the air, catching the side of the mud-brick wall and with the help of specially made boots and gloves, climbed like a cat onto the top of the small home.

He thought someone had followed him out of the Cantina, and it appeared those feelings were justified, as two cloaked men slipped down the alley after him. Stopping, the figures began to argue and then surprisingly split up.

Curious, what exactly were the two of them planning? Illian didn’t think it was a simple robbery, although that was common enough. Trinna Yavok must have been a code word, although it could still also be a real person.

As one of the hooded figures headed back to the Cantina, Illian thought that perhaps he might ask the one remaining why exactly was he being followed. However, other options had suddenly been taken away, when the hooded man noticed the small marks on the building and looked straight up.

Illian wasted no time; he could have retreated across the top of the buildings but decided he really wanted to have a chat with the fellow. As Illian dropped to the ground, his opponent jumped back, his right arm reaching for his belt.

The Captain didn’t give him a chance, spinning around to his right, the Imperial Agent moved to connect his foot with the man’s temple. To his surprise, it was expertly blocked. The counter-attack left Illian with no illusions of a robbery.

Silently the two men fought. Neither seemed to gain an advantage; however, Illian had been in many such fights. Pulling something out of the dirty fighting book, he blocked with one hand, the second taking a handful of dirt and throwing it into the other man’s face.

As he moved to deflect it, Illian charged forward, slamming his knee into the other man’s groin. Captain Drako wasn't done, following through, he slammed his fist into the man's solar plexus. With a groan his opponent collapsed, unable to breathe and curled up on the alley floor in pain.

“Alright, if you would be so kind, my friend, I have a few questions to ask you.” Illian stepped back, slipping out of his holster a Coil-Cell Needle pistol, a nasty little weapon taken off the body of a smuggler some time ago. The hooded man didn’t answer but instead started to shake, and then stopped.

“Damn.” Leaning down, Illian checked the condition of his attacker. He knew what he would find, but it made no sense. Sure enough, he was dead obviously by some sort of poison hidden inside a tooth. Such things were common among agents on both sides, and with some security groups.

On the dead man, Illian found an M-41 Blaster Pistol, a Vibroknife, and little else. No credits, identity, nothing; even the planetary identification on the weapons had been removed. This had all the markings of some special operations, but if so, whose?

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Captain Illian Drako said to the shadows, as he disappeared back down the alley.

And least we forget:
Star Wars The Old Republic and the characters featured in this fanfic belong to George Lucas, Bioware, and Lucasfilm. There are also quotes from the Star Wars films. No copyright infringement is intended. All other Trademarks and images are the property of their prospective owners.