I was happily stumbling back to the hotel, R4 leading the way. I had gotten a tad drunker than planned at the reception after the promotion ceremony and R4 was not quite happy about it. The glow of the windows around me almost made the city streets look as if they were under sunlight. Walking through Coruscant feels different now too. Despite being drunk the propaganda posters on every wall are hard to miss. I pause a moment to take a closer look at a groupings of posters on a grocery store window.

  The first depicted a Clone giving food to a little girl, with a message on supporting the troops.

  The second had Generals Skywalker and Kenobi’s faces plastered on it with their dumb nicknames under it.

  After that a Venator on a red background demanding the people support our Navy by buying war-bonds.

  A line of Clones holding their rifles while a larger than life Palpatine orders them forwards to ‘SAVE THE REPUBLIC, FOR OUR PEOPLE!’

  A poster of a winged sword embraced by a chain piercing a battledroid’s chest, with a request to buy war-bonds. I wondered why the mark looked oddly familiar before brushing it off. Must have seen it when researching something at my time at the Academy.

  A Human Navy officer using the crest of the open circle fleet to shield a group of Human and Duro children from an evil looking Nemoidian, Aqualish and Geonosian. Underneath it stood a message of ‘HELP THE NAVY PROTECT YOU! Buy war-bonds.’

  Finally a poster of a line of workers with welders and hammers with another larger than life Palpatine, with a little human girl on his shoulder, ordering them forwards to ‘KEEP WORKING, FOR YOUR SAFETY AND FOR THE REPUBLIC’

  I scoff at the last one. That sounds weirdly like a threat, whoever penned that ought to be fired. Suddenly I feel someone pulling me back. My hand goes for my slugthrower as I start spinning around to meet my probable mugger. Before I can lay eyes on them I feel a sack cover my head and R4 shrilling in agitation, shock, surprise, fear. The slugthrower leaves its holster as I finish my spin. I should be directly in front of the bastard that started this, a small adjustment and the slugthrower unloads a round with a crack. Before I can yank the sack off me another one of the attackers, there must be at least three of them, hits me over the head with something.

  “Fuck.” I cough up. That came from directly to my right. I adjust the angle of my slugthrower before squeezing the trigger. The crack echoes through the street and I feel my mind clear slightly as the cry of surprise and pain confirms my shot.

  “SHOOT HIM ALREADY!” One of my attackers, a male with a coruscanti accent, shouts.

  I try to spin around to nail the fucker that just shouted, but before I can pull the trigger I feel my mind go blank from the stunner round one of my attackers puts into my back.

  I wake up slowly and immediately start taking stock of my situation after the memories of the previous night hit me like a speeder. I am sitting, my wrists and ankles are bound in shackles. I don’t feel the familiar weight of my slugthrower on my hip. I slowly open my eyes. The room is an army gray with a single light protruding from the ceiling by maybe half an inch. There are cameras in every corner of the room and a bench against the wall I am leaning on.

  I decide whoever has me must certainly know I’m awake by now. R4 is missing too and based off of the missing weight, whoever kidnapped me also took the liberty to take everything from my pockets, including my code-cylinders, my officer’s badge, my spare clip of slugs, my pen and my officers badge. I finally realize the bastards took my boots too. I’m mildly surprised by the lacking amount of bonds on me. Not even a shock collar or a chain to keep me in a certain area.

  I decide that if I get out of this alive I’ll need to find a way to hide more weapons on my body. Maybe a hair pin? Definitely some kind of knife in my boots and probably some kind of secondary blasters somewhere. Should probably also invest in a magnet and a lock-pick somewhere.

  I sigh as I take another look around. Training always said to keep quiet, but fuck that: “Whenever you’re done posturing, I’ll be happy to receive ya. Well, I may not be fully able to, but I’ll do my very best.”

  The door opens from in front of me and I get a look at whoever has had the balls to knock me out and chain me up like a common thug. His hair is a pale red, almost pinkish, his eyes a shade of green and a pale complexion. His uniform is white, hinting at a Republic Intelligence branch, as I doubt any scientific division would dare do this,

  “Good Evening Mr. Deri-”

  “It’s Rear Admiral. Unless I’ve been dismissed. It is only proper to refer to my person properly.” I interrupt, my eyebrows sneaking together in distaste.

  “As I was saying,” The man continues, “good evening.”

  “I would demand a lawyer present, but I doubt you’d allow that.” I say.

  “We will not. Republic Intelligence has quite a few questions. What is your relationship with Captain Sicato of Fondor?”

  “A friend I made at the Naval Academy of Fondor. He is my subordinate in the 347th Outer Rim Section and has been since the death of my superior officer at Dellalt.” I answer promptly. They already knew this.

  “Have you had any contact with Separatist citizens.”

  “Yes, as both I and Captain Sicato are, at least in their books, Separatist citizens. Furthermore I had multiple discussions with the recently deceased Commander Tamson of the Confederate Army in the prelude to the Battle of Dac in my capacity as a temporarily appointed diplomat during the succession crisis. I have also known both of my parents, various friends, family, acquaintances and other people from back home, if you want to be pedantic.”

  The man doesn’t move or react to my answer. Instead he continues on: “Are any involved with any level of Separatist governance?”

  “Yes and no.” I answer.

  “Clarify.”

  “My mother is, to the best of my current knowledge, the First Secretary to the Ministry of Fondor while my father serves in the Fondorian Planetary Defense Force. Any others have also been in contact with them.”

  “Have you had contact with any of your countrymen as of the beginning of the war?” The man asks.

  “I have met an old acquaintance who is a Fondorian citizen. He is running a smuggling operation within Separatist space after the war caused him to fall into financial difficulties.” I answer slowly.

  “This was on Corellia?”

  “Yes.” I answer choppily. Maybe they didn’t know about Elix being on Mon Cala?

  “You have previously failed to dispose of a second cousin of yours in the Ultari Nebula. Was this due to familial relations?”

  “What? No. I didn’t receive the intelligence package until after the battle. A week after the battle and a full day after my dressing down for failing to use the provided information I did not have at the time.”

  “This was also when you threatened to duel a superior officer?”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “He dared to call me a traitor.” I hiss.

  “I see. That does not excuse your threat of-”

  “It was fully within naval regulations. When his excellency repealed parts of the Ruusan reformation he didn’t bother to use a scalpel when a sledge hammer was just as practical. He hammered the Navy back, including all of her provisions and privileges. Privileges, such as the right of an officer to duel a fellow officer if baselessy accused, of treason.” I extrapolate, anger seeping into my voice, “It was entirely called for and unless I get some damn explanations, I’ll end up snappin’ your Maker forsaken neck with my bare hands and damn the consequences!”

  “You are in a Republic Intelligence interrogation room in the military district of Coruscant.”

  “I demand to see some proof of that.” I snarl.

  “You’ll simply have to trust us.”

  “I’ll do no such thing. I’ve already said more than I ought to have.”

  “Suppose that is true. Though you sacrificed the information given willingly. Surprisingly willing to incriminate yourself like this. You will be court-martialed for thi-”

  “For what? For admitting to knowing my own ma’ and pa’? I never said I’ve karking talked to them during this time of war. You gonna accuse me of treason for bumping into an old acquaintance in a Corellian bar? I was the temporary Adjutant Administrator of a regional theater! I have the authority to keep my own contacts for intel gatherin’. Maker damn you, I sent y’all reports based off of the intel I gathered. Shipping lanes, convoy sizes, redeployments and you’re throwin’ it out the window! You’ve not shown me anythin’ that points towards ya’ having anythin’ on me ya yappin’, useless, mudsuckin’, dusteatin’ lizardfucking, railgoing, waste of water!” I bark out.

  “Creative.” The Intelligence officer says, his face not betraying anything as he takes a few steps towards me. Almost in range.

  “You gonna finally accuse me of something, or will I need to make my superiors aware of this? Maker I’ll use whatever means necessary to have your head for this after the war.” I threaten, my eyebrows now knitted in anger and my entire face enraptured by a snarl.

  “After the war?” The man asks, his tone changing slightly for the first time in this interrogation.

  “I’m not an idiot. This’ll be buried if I come out with it now.” I answer, never mind the fact that I’ll need more info on this bastard and his associates if I want something to actually stick.

  “Very good, Rear Admiral. Unlock his foot bindings.” The man orders and I feel the shackles fall to the floor. I shuffle my feet around a bit, the shackles moving slightly to the front of my feet. My eyelids narrow in suspicion.

  “That was probably a mistake on your end.” I supply. I kick the binders hard with the side of my foot into the shins of the bastard in front of me. He flinches and jerks his leg up in pain as jump at him and slam him against the floor. My entire weight forces him down and my bound arms start smashing the binders against his head.

  I hear the door open up. The Republic Intelligence officer in a white uniform doesn’t have a weapon out and I take advantage. He still has his sidearm in its holster as I jump for him, knocking him over into the stairs. I start to bash the metal of my cuffs against his temple as I did the interrogator. I need to make a run for it through the doors. I poke my head through and glance around to see that the hallway is empty before doubling back to deal with the bastards still in the room. I start looting the bodies for anything of use. The boots are a tad too small, but the codes cylinders and blasters will do nicely.

  I unlock my hand cuffs before fully equipping myself. Now slightly better equipped I stalk out of the room after saluting one of the cameras. Unsurprisingly there’s four armed and armored Republic Intelligence enforcers waiting to intercept me down the hallway, a Republic Intelligence officer at their center. The enforcers are armed like most Navy arms-men, though their uniforms are a light gray and they’re less armored.

  “Ho there!” I bark, “Your buddies ain’t dead. My name’s Thraken Dericote, recently promoted Rear Admiral and Marshal Administrator of the North East Slice Command. Surrender now, because I won’t hesitate to shoot your idiot ass in the head, officer intelligence.”

  “Surrender yourself. You do not have permission to leave this facility.”

  “Am I under arrest?” I ask.

  “Not yet.” The idiot replies through gritted teeth, “You have been detained.”

  “Clearly not, though good on ya’. Your one good decision means I’ll let’cha live a tad longer.” I say as I adjust the settings on the blasters. Damn things are a fucking pain to get how I like.

  “Mr. Dericote.”

  “It’s still Rear Admiral. Didn’t almost die half a dozen times to be called Mr.” I interrupt.

  “Rear Admiral, this had been a misunderstanding. My … colleague was overeager and was not supposed to interrogate you.”

  “Lizardshit. I ain’t movin’ from my point until I have my astromech R4-K3, my slugthrower, my full uniform, everything that was in my pockets. Nine Hells, I wont karking move ‘till you get either Fleet Admiral Honor or the Chancellor himself to back your words up ya travel hatin’ bastards.”

  “I don’t have time for this, take him.” The officer orders.

  “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!” I hear.

  “Thank the Maker.” I mutter as I make the final adjustment on the pistol. That could’ve gotten ugly fast.

  I glance around the corner to see Fleet Admiral Honor alongside a dozen Navy arms-men, a handful of Captains and notably an officer of the Coruscanti Security Force, all of them armed, marching down the corridor, blasters drawn. She continues to bark: “Disarm them! Under my authority as Head of Naval Operations I am placing all of you under arrest for kidnapping, wrongful imprisonment and treason!”

  “Ma’am, you do not have the authority to-”

  “The FUCK you mean, I don’t have the authority? I don’t care if you got your orders from Isard himself, this is my officer. If you wanted an interview you could have organized one with my office! Not to mention you all breaking the law, military regulations and infringing on departmental authority.” She continues, “As for you and whoever else is in that cell, you’re coming with me, in cuffs or in a body bag.”

  I watch as the enforcers start placing their guns on the floor as the officer looks around in desperation. After a moment he finally cracks: “He’s from a Separatist world! He’s been in contact with un-vetted separatist citizens. He is breaking the law!”

  “That’s called using contacts you absolute sapsucking idiot!” She barks back, jabbing a finger into the man’s chest as she barks, “It’s his contacts that got us our first bits of information on Lola Sayu.”

  “Is it safe to exit cover, ma’am?” I ask.

  “Long as you aren’t nude.” She replies, her gaze not moving from the intelligence officer.

  I leave my cover and waltz over to my savior. I snap a salute as I greet her: “Thank you ma’am. Would’ve been a pain to shoot my way outta here.”

  “No problem Dericote, when you didn’t show up for your briefing I got concerned. Good thing too, or else I’d probably find you in a body bag.”

  “Permission to knock this fool out, ma’am?” I ask.

  “Denied. Captain Bluff, put this man in binders. Lieutenant, take another of your men and secure whoever is in the Rear Admiral’s former cell. Rest of you, start moving these troops to the emergency holding cells in Naval Ops.”

  The arms-men and CorSec officer jump to follow the Fleet Admiral’s orders. Her comlink starts going off a moment later as the Clones are assembled into a line and she answers: “What is it?”

  “Droid’s acting nuts, mam. It’s hunkered down and shot Lieutenant Hosic in the leg. Vicious thing was aiming for his crotch, pure luck he took a sidestep when the door opened.” I hear. I carefully take a look towards the Fleet Admiral, who is in return staring at me as if I’d just kicked a lothcat.

  “In my defense, she asked for the blaster after I had to remove the blowtorch and I denied her request for a grenade launcher.” I say quietly

  She hands me the comlink before finishing the formation of the assembled soldiers: “Talk your droid down. Last thing I need is some soldier complaining about loosing their family jewels over trying to rescue an overzealous astromech.”

  I take the comlink up to my mouth as I speak in: “Roll this over in front of the door slowly, then take a step back. I’ll talk her down.”

  “If you insist, sir.” Comes from the other side and I listen as the sound of a rolling comlink comes through. As it does we start marching through the prison complex.

  “R4 you reading me? Disable aggressive mode, code Tits, Cresh, three-two-niner. Mudpuppy, mudwhelp, cricket, sandgator, now get ya shit togetha, we ain’t got time for this. Now get your ass over to the exit with the nice soldiers, apologize to the bastard ya shot. I’m safe, you’re gonna be safe. If you see my slugthrower take it off whoever has it. See ya soon.”

  “How much of that was the disabling code?” I hear one of the officers ask.

  “About half, don’t worry though. I’ll change it asap.” I lied, she didn’t have a disabling code.

  We march through the complex, with more arms-men and security forces joining up as we leave the ISB building. Finally R4 joins up with us and hands me my slugthrower in holster. I pat her on the head before buckling the weapon onto my person and loading the old weapon. Thank the Maker they didn’t disassemble it, would be a shame to have to kill every officer of Republic Intelligence that participated in this. It was bad enough I got disarmed in the first place.

  “Here’s our ride, almost safe.” I hear the CorSec officer mutter.

  “HALT, IN THE NAME OF THE REPUBLIC!” I hear.

  “Great job jinxin’ us.” I mutter as I swap out two slugs for buckshot, fuck sparing these bastards.

  In front of our group of three dozen Navy officers and friends was maybe fifty Clone Shock troopers, all of them aiming their blasters at us. At their center was an angry looking Republic Intelligence officer, a Major if my eyes were right, and a confused looking Jedi General, one I had seen before.

  “General Koon?” I mutter.

  “What do you mean, halt? I am arresting these fools here for falsely imprisoning a loyal Republic officer, an officer who they planned on dumping into a recycling pit once they were done with him.” Fleet Admiral Honor barks.

  “Were they actually?” I ask the CorSec officer.

  “We found files of their plans on one of the terminals the conspirators were using.” The officer answers.

  “Damn, if I’d’ve known that I would’ve shot them without waiting for y’all to come save me.” I reply.

  “Fleet Admiral, this appears to be a misunderstanding.” General Koon says.

  “Fuck that! I am tired of this conspiracy. Captain Lops, hand me the datastick. Dericote, you and the astromech to the front!”

  “Yes ma’am!” I and the Captain bark as we rush to the front. The officer hands the Fleet Admiral the datastick and she passes it to R4. The droid places it within her chasis and rolls forward, displaying the first page of the document forward.

  The General takes a moment to read through it. After a very tense and agonizingly long moment the General sighs and beckons our party closer. The Fleet Admiral simply walks forward while the rest of us are slightly more hesitant. She finally squares up with the General and despite the difference in stature they almost appear to be equal in height.

  “Well?” She asks.

  “From the evidence provided and the fact that we were simply told that there was a prison break, I find your evidence quite convincing. The Force appears in agreement. I believe it will be up to the Jedi to launch a formal investigation. Until then, Rear Admiral Dericote.”

  “Yes, sir?” I ask.

  “I would ask you to return to your hotel room until further notice. I would ask you to not contact any person until the Jedi have concluded our investigation.”

  “With pleasure, sir.” I reply. I snap a salute to the man, before turning to thank the Fleet Admiral.

  She takes the salute before shaking my hand, placing something into my palm as she does. I follow my escorting Shock troopers to the stationed LAAT and finally feel myself come down from the adrenaline high.

  I spent the next couple hours looking through the datastick Fleet Admiral Honor had given me, R4 giving commentary as I went. Appears a couple Intelligence officers got too big for their boots and wanted to weaken the Fleet Admiral’s position so they could replace her. They’d even orchestrated a couple murders of support personnel, a Junior Captain among their victims and planned on pinning them on her office. When they found out I was booth at least circumstantially in contact with Fondorians, apparently my suggestions about seizing Fondor weren’t as subtle as I had thought, and was on some level a supporter of the Fleet Admiral, their eyes got too big for their stomachs. They pounced early, unready, overeager, foolish.

  The Fleet Admiral had known of some kind of plot for a month or so at least and when I didn’t show up she assumed the worst. The explanation seemed good, but there were still a few gaps. Who did they expect to replace her with? Who were they working for? What made them think I was some great supporter of the Admiral? I mean, I certainly support her in her position, especially after the apology and the assistance with getting my command further support, but that was quite recent. Was the entire plan cobbled together in a day? Maybe they had a mole in a comms station and listened in on one of the after action reports she attended. I just couldn't make sense of it. I just hope I'll never be in a Republic Intelligence cell again.

  Maker keep me if this was gonna become a habit.