A Beneficial Arrangement
When Darth Ixor Kindrak asked to speak to Major Armadal Benem, he didn’t actually think he’d have to spend nearly an hour walking along the corridors of the Harrow-class ship, the Retribution. The small section of offices and desks were nearly hidden and tucked away in one of the ship’s lower levels, but they were bustling with life that the Twi'lek rarely saw in the Empire; aliens, vagabonds and humans without proper uniforms all working on their own little tasks.
A Rodian nodded to him as he swept through the mess of desks, a Weequay looked up his work of scanning in a collection of weapons and gave an awkward salute to the passing Sith. He quickly stopped at a desk where a young woman sat with her hands folded into her lap. Her desk was neat, tidy and a small statue of the Emperor was the only real decoration she had on it.
“Good day, my lord. How may I help you?”
“I came to speak to Major Benem.” Ixor’s voice was no longer the harsh, crude accent of a Nar Shaddaa native, but of a proper Imperial; curt, sharp and slightly haughty. He was no stranger to working with Imperials and during his apprenticeship under Darth Tholgeth Voidscream, he learned to fake the accent rather well. His husband, the former Minder Obisen Kindrak, had helped him learn the proper words and phrases when they were still young adults. Ixor could even hear traces of Obisen’s own way of speaking when he talked. It always brought him a little bit of comfort.
However, that comfort seemed to be missing today and it was one reason he was here. Obisen was Imperial, through and through, and with that came all the horrid little traditions his family and the rest of his Empire held sacred, traditions Ixor had grown very tired of. It was one thing for a stranger to think the Twi'lek was some dense alien with an overinflated ego, but hearing it from the one you’ve devoted your life to was a bit much for him. Obisen claimed that it wasn’t what he meant, but Ixor knew his husband well enough to know that despite the pleas and sadness he felt from him, what he said was what he truly believed.
Ixor had decided to prove to his husband that he wasn’t a dense alien that had no understanding of Obisen’s precious military lifestyle.Maybe it was a bit spiteful, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to barge in on his work, but Ixor didn’t want to be thought of as stupid by his own partner. How hard could it be?
The woman nodded and pressed a button on her desk. “Major, Darth Kindrak is here to see you.”
There was a tinny response from the speaker. “Thank you, Anabel. Send him in.”
Major Benem’s office was a rather plain, boring looking square of gray, gray and more gray. The only thing that brought any life to the room was the complete mess it was in. Flimsiplast papers were gathered in unorganized folders, books and holocoms strewn about in half empty boxes. It looked more like someone had moved in and never finished unpacking. The balding man sat at his desk that was covered in stacks of datapads, tapping away at one. Ixor cleared his throat and the human glanced up. “Ah, my lord.” He motioned toward the one extra chair in the room. “I was just going over your request.”
Ixor looked at the one extra chair. It would take more time to move the boxes off of it than the entire conversation would take. “I take it there is no issue?”
“Of course not, my lord. As a loyal subject of the Empire, I am to follow all orders by a Sith such as yourself. I do believe this will be a beneficial arrangement."
Private Obisen Kindrak stood with his hands folded behind his back, his posture straight. The others in the line were not as proper in their stance or their armor. Where Obisen wore nicely polished armor colored red and black, the others wore mismatched armor that was scuffed, dirty and even ill-fitting on some. The Private looked down the line and his squad; Special Sken Bivvin, Privates Wando and Rodig Malafec and Corporal Din Quellinok. He shook his head at how they held themselves. A loud and sharp whistle brought the rest of the squad’s attention forward and Obisen followed suit.
Major Armadal Benem paced in front of the Imperial Auxiliary squad, taking on a much more professional demeanor than the squad in front of him. “You all had a nice little break thanks to that Rakghoul quarantine nonsense, but you still have a mission to complete.” There was a groan from down the line from Rodig. “Don’t kriffing give me that, boy.”
“Since this is the Sith Empire and I’m gracious and humble enough to know my duty,” his sarcasm was not lost on Obisen and the rest of the squad, “I have agreed to let another take my place as acting lead of this assignment.
“You are all serving the Sith Empire and thus, you need to learn how to work with them, though I’m sure Private Kindrak would be more than willing to share his experiences.” Armadal smirked toward him, making Obisen nearly shrink back. He quickly averted his eyes downward and kept them there.
There was a hiss of a door behind Benem. A dark cape swirled around the legs of an approaching figure. “Major Benem,” the newcomer said with a crisp Imperial accent, “I thank you for the pleasure of allowing me to see one of your squads in action.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Darth Callidus.”
Obisen glanced up to see the face of not Darth Callidus, but the stoic and uncharacteristically professional demeanor of Darth Ixor Kindrak, dressed in darkened armor that matched the long cape thrown about his shoulders and under his lekku. His heart sank to his stomach and his face paled.
Armadal gave the Sith a bow. “Now, my lord, I will leave you to your troops. If you require anything, do not hesitate to contact me.”
The Sith stood with his hands on his hips as he inspected the troops. Obisen had snapped forward, giving his husband a look that was half disbelief and half confusion. There was a twitch of a lek and Ixor linked his pinky with the index finger of his other hand.
Obisen had not only coached the Twi'lek on a proper Imperial accent, the two had formed their own little language based on subtle movements. It came in very handy several times in their history together, when they both were sent on missions from Darth Aculeatus and Darth Voidscream. But now that secret language was being used to gloat. The movements roughly translated to 'told you so.'
“Major, I went over the reports for this assignment…” Anabel sat at her desk, tapping away at her datapad, but not looking up as she spoke, “Did you mean to send them to Vintel? The last time a squad went there--”
“Ah, yes.” Armadal smiled down at his secretary. It was a reassuring, sincere smile as he picked up another datapad and scrolled through the screens. “I know exactly what they are going to face out there, Anbela. ”
She blinked. “It’s basically a suicide mission, Major. I don’t even think a Darth could make it work.”
The male slowly strided toward his office, “Ah, see, if I know that Darth, he isn’t going to let anything happen to his little pet, no matter what the cost. And if one of them dies, the other won’t come back and then I no longer have those troublesome fops to worry about.”
With a nod, Anbela went back to work.
“Kindrak, Bivvin! I need you two to get that comm relay set up. Wando, you and Rodig set up a perimeter. Don’t let anything get to us. Din, you keep...doing whatever it is you do!”
The mission had gone just as badly as Obisen had thought, but in ways he didn’t expect. He had planned on his husband being immature, unprofessional and giving him special treatment, but none of that had happened since the ‘Darth Callidus’ character had been introduced. He did not, however, plan to be met with a hilly, rocky forest world of rebels, beasts and a bunker that needed more than just six people attacking it.
There was a loud explosion from the east, too close for comfort and Obisen felt the ground shake under him as he and Specialist Bivvin began to set up a connection link. The satellite dish fell from Obisen’s hands, Bivvin gave him a look of contempt and scooped it up, jamming it unceremoniously into its port.
Ixor stomped over. His cape was lost and his eyes showed the full effect the Dark Side had on his body: bright orange and narrowed in anger. “This is freakin’ ridiculous.” The proper accent had all but faded away, given the circumstances, Obisen couldn’t blame him. It was a rather tense situation. No time for theatrics here.
Another explosion from the rocky bluffs, much closer than the previous one. Ixor turned, sensing the ground quake before the two Force Blinds could. Rocks began to fall from the bluff and rolled toward them. Obisen didn’t have time to react before Ixor dove and pushed the both of them and himself out of the way of a particularly nasty looking boulder, forcing them both to the ground. It kept tumbling down the hillside, leaving the half set up communication relay squashed. Bivvin sat up, rubbed his head and looked at his hard work’s guts reduced to something thinner than a flatscreen. He cursed loudly.
Ixor offered a hand to Obisen, which he gladly took and shakily got to his feet. “Well, that isn’t good.” The three looked at the broken piece of tech in silence.
“I have a suggestion, my lord.” Bivvin broke the silence and handed the Twi'lek his datapad.
“Where were you hiding that?” Obisen asked. Bivvin just smirked his weedy little smirk.
Armadal Benem sat at his desk, idly stirring a cup of tea; three sugar cubes and a splash of milk. Soft orchestral music popular at military functions played in the background but was soon rudely interrupted by his own personal datapad beeping loudly and vibrating on his desk. He smiled and answered it. The grainy blue image of the Sith appeared on the flatscreen.
“My Lord! What a pleasant surprise,” the Major lied. It was hardly pleasant and it was hardly a surprise. “How may I be of service?”
Ixor growled. “Listen here, Benem.” The video feed flickered, yet the audio stayed crisp and clear. “We are going to need a bit more support if you think we can take down this kriffin’ base, you know.”
“Have they refortified the base? Our intelligence said it was nearly empty.”
“No, they are here in full force, with lots of explosions and a terrain that isn’t as navigable as your briefing made it out to be.” Ixor’s voice seemed to get a little louder and just a bit shorter as he continued to talk. Benem kept his indifferent expression.
“It appears the Auxiliary’s intelligence was not up to par, my lord. I will see that they are swiftly reprimanded for their failure.”
“Yeah, the Auxiliary’s everything needs to get up to par before you think I’m letting you take Oh-” He paused and looked at something off screen, “Before I’m letting one of your squads go in without a lick of intel.”
Benem feigned his ignorance. “I am unsure of how I can help from my present location, my lord. As you know, the Imperial Auxiliary is a small operation-”
“Well, your small operation is going to get us killed out here!”
“What do you wish for me to do, my lord?”
Ixor’s exasperated sigh came through loud and clear. “Get us some transport out of here. Maybe you can orbital bomb this place and then turn the kriffin’ laser on yourself.”
“Of course, my lord. Would you like to make that a direct order?”
“Yeah, I would! Now get us out of here. Your damn ship is what, on the other side of the planet? March yourself up to that bridge and get us off of this rock.”
A young male Cathar, the hair on his head done up in almost a mohawk fashion but wearing a neatly pressed Ensign’s uniform, stepped into Benem’s office. He stood out of view, shoving his hands into his pockets. Benem threw him a look pointed to the boy’s hair and the alien quickly pushed it down before returning to his stance.
Once Ixor had finish his berating of Major Armadal Benem’s Auxiliary squad, his intelligence and his intelligence gatherers, and his intelligence gatherer’s intelligence, Benem simply nodded his head. He nodded again when the Sith demanded a transport off world, because there was ‘no way in hell we’re dying on some backwater planet for nothin’,’ and cut off the communication link between the two. He looked to the Cathar and handed him the datapad.
“Menkib, do take this and do what you can to make it sound good, will you?”
The Cathar nodded, taking the tech in his clawed hands. “What would you like it to say, sir?”
Benem waved a hand idly. “Oh, something about who he is, how wonderful the Auxiliary is and how we really need much more support from the Military as a whole.” He stopped to think. “I know this is Darth Kindrak and he’s about as threatening as Niman form, so you may have to work to make it sound scary.”
Menkib nodded. “Of course, sir. It shouldn’t take too long.”
It had been a day since Ixor had contacted Major Benem and there was still no word from him. He paced around the impromptu campsite, muttering to himself. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, but he had held it together. Obisen couldn’t keep up the thought that he was too stupid or dense for military work. He proved that by actually calling the retreat instead of letting people get killed for no good reason. Still, he wasn’t sure if they were actually going to get off this planet. They had found a clearing in the forest, far away from the rebel bunker. They were on constant guard however and Ixor had begun to feel tired. He could only stay up for so long, sensing through the Force for intruders. It was the least he could do for the squad.
He watched Obisen idly pick at a ration bar and wondered if he should drop the facade of an impartial leader and comfort him. He thought better of it, but gave Obisen a reassuring smile. He twitched a lek and shuffled his feet in a certain way as he stopped his pacing for a brief moment. ‘I love you.’ He felt relief wash over his husband. Satisfied, he went back to his pacing.
An hour or two passed before Bivvin’s datapad began to beep loudly. His eyes widened and he quickly covered the speakers with his hands. Ixor reached out through the Force and felt no new signs of life approaching. He snatched the datapad from Bivvin’s hand.
“Glad you could finally reach us, Major. Took you plenty long enough,” Ixor didn’t bother to hear Armadal’s greeting. “I hope you have an excuse for why it’s taken you so kriffin’ long to get back to us.”
“My deepest apologies, my lord. I needed to secure transport off world. A shuttle will pick you up at the coordinates I am sending you.”
Ixor grinned, showing off his pointed teeth. “About time, Major. When we return to the Retribution, we are going to have a nice little chat, yeah?” He motioned to the squad to begin gathering their armor and weapons, “Just you and me. Got it?”
“Very well, my lord. I do suggest heading to the extraction up point as quick as possible. Benem out.”
The datapad’s screen went blank, leaving Ixor glaring at it. “Well, you heard him. Hurry it up.”
It took them only five minutes to have everything packed up and another ten to reach the extraction point where a shuttle was waiting for them. The six jumped in, Corporal Din Quellinok went first and offered a hand to help the others; the Malafec brothers, then Specialist Sken Bivvin and then the Sith. Obisen trailed behind, looking up at the Harrow that sat above the planet. “Oi, Kindrak. Hurry it up,” Ixor said as he strapped himself in.
Obisen couldn’t help the uneasy feeling he had. Something was wrong. Something was going to happen. He wasn’t a Sith, but he felt it in his bones.
And when a bright light appeared from the underside of the Harrow and bolted down to where the bunker was, Obisen knew he was right. The orbital strike was precise and deadly and the ripples of the explosion were heading toward him. The shuttle began to lift off and Obisen quickly jumped into it, grabbing a handrail. There was no time to even buckle in as the shuttle lifted and rose up into the sky. The door shut behind him, just in time for the waves of the strike to beat against the hull of the shuttle. He lost his grip and fell into a pile of boxes, but found his feet when the shuttle steadied.
“Everyone okay back there?” A tinny voice came from a small speaker. Ixor hit a button to give the pilot an affirmative and soon they were breaking the atmosphere, speeding toward the Harrower. Obisen once more lost his footing as the shuttle broke through, but managed to stay somewhat upright.
“That was an orbital strike,” Obisen stated the obvious to the group, who obviously knew that. “You don’t find that peculiar at all?”
Wando shook his head. “Why would we? I mean, doesn’t the Empire do that a lot?”
Obisen shook his head. “The only ones that have the power to call down an orbital strike is a Darth or a Moff and even then, it isn’t used very often and discussed in detail.” He turned to Ixor, “You didn’t call for one, did you?”
The Sith shook his head. The shuttle rocked back and forth and the group sat silently.
Major Armadal Benem’s finance reports where almost done by the time the Sith pushed the doors of his office open with the Force and strode in. Obisen was following a few feet behind him, trying his best to stay unnoticed as he flanked the door. Benem stood as the Sith entered and gave him a curt, short bow. “A pleasant surprise, my lord.”
Ixor rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that crap, Benem.” He tossed a datapad on his desk and pointed to it with a clawed finger. “Want to explain what that file is all about?”
The file was a standard military document outlining a one sided conversation Ixor never remembered having; a conversation about orbital strikes and providing more resources to the Imperial Auxiliary.
The older human didn’t need to look at the file to know what it was. “That was me completing the operation and extracting you from the planet, my lord.”
Ixor thrusted a clawed hand forward and gave a bit of a squeeze toward him. “Want to explain it a bit better?” He dropped his hand and Benem coughed slightly.
“As you can tell, my lord, my little squad here is nothing more than a rag tag bunch of rejects. Present company not excluded, of course. Do you know how hard it was to get support for this project? And do you know how hard it is to get any support now that it’s all put together?
“So one of my privates spliced together a little video of you. I had to use it to show someone out in the Empire supported this cause and I used it to finally destroy that bunker on that worthless planet than cost me far too many credits and far too many soldiers. A planet we don’t need that I was sent to take care of.
“What that video did, my lord, was give my little project a little more support from a few higher ups. We may actually have enough credits to start an actual recruit drive on newly taken planets. You’ve done a great service to the Empire, my lord.”
A moment passed and Ixor growled under his breath. “I could have this entire project destroyed with a single talk to the Spheres.” Something hit him in the back of his mind. A sense of worry from behind him.
He knew Obisen liked this weird little job of his. There was something about it that made him feel confident, something that made him feel needed and wanted by the one thing he loved more than Ixor himself; the Empire. Ixor may have hated the time they were separated, but he loved the human enough to know when he was happy. And for some reason he couldn’t grasp no matter how hard he tried, Obisen was happy with this group of rejects.
“Of course you could, my lord. But would you? Look around you. Out in the hall, the little offices, did you notice they were mainly aliens? People shunned by the majority of the Empire have found a nice little home here. They get paid enough to have a real flat in the city, maybe even send a few credits back to whatever desolate rock they call home. It may not be nice, but it’s a lot better than what they could get before. And you don’t really want to send all those aliens out into Kaas City with no work and no way to care for themselves, would you? They would hardly be considered citizens anymore.”
“You could have just asked, y’know,” He glared at Benem. “Instead of forging a document that could have you thrown out of an airlock.”
The Major smiled. “That is not how my Empire works, my lord. I would not be where I am today if I had a Sith use his rank for me and I do not intend to start now. Your voice may have spoke for me, but it was I who orchestrated it all.” He glanced to Obisen, knowing his words had found purchase with the human soldier. “Surely you know of such ideals, my lord, being Sith and all.”
With gritted teeth, Ixor glanced back at Obisen as well. “Yeah, I know all about them, Major.”
Tension hung in the air for several moments before Benem sat back down at his desk. “If you’ll excuse me, my lord, I need to finish these finance reports. The Empire thanks you, once more, for your support.”
With a flourish, Ixor turned to leave. Obisen looked at the Major.
“You can leave as well, Kindrak.” The Major, however, didn’t look up at him.
“Yes, sir.” He clicked his heels, pivoted and jogged slightly to catch up with his husband.
