"You!" Veers hissed, as he raised the blaster that had been given to him. "You brought my son here!" The Field Marshal pulled the weapon's trigger even as he dodged towards the strange starfighter occupying a place within the hanger bay. There was a time for thought and a time for action. For Draug Layor, facing a direct burst from his own blaster, the time for thought had no place. The Guardsman leapt aside in an effort to evade the blast, but quick as he was he could not move faster than light. A portion of his robe was singed, with a hole put through the once-perfect, scarlet uniform. Layor was not harmed, though the blast had only barely missed his protective armour. He knew that the weapon was not enough to kill him, but had worked to evade the shot knowing that it would keep up appearances. He shifted to pursue the fleeing Field Marshal, when an unmistakable sound pierced the still air. Snap-hiss "Run Maximillian!" someone yelled. Someone, Layor noted, who had only just appeared as if from nothingness, someone wielding a lightsaber. While the Guardsman had never fought a Jedi himself, he knew their weapon well and as such shifted all focus away from Veers to a far greater threat. The two were in collusion, but as far as Layor knew, the Jedi had not allied with the Empire. Moreover, Veers' dislike for Force-sensitive beings, particularly those that were trained, was all but common knowledge within the upper ranks of the Empire and certain divisions of the military and intelligence. There was no time to ponder the identity of the stranger, however. With a sweep of his hand, the Jedi raised a crate from the landing bay, and pushed it towards Layor. Fortunately for the Royal Guard, his reflexes were quick enough that there was ample time to react. He leapt aside, and prepared to rush the Jedi, force pike in-hand. It was then that Layor witnessed the entry of a detachment of six stormtroopers, who came into the hanger bay accompanied by two Imperial officers. Two of the six stormtroopers moved off to pursue Veers, firing one stun blast after another in an attempt to stop the man, while the four that remained converged on the stranger, firing to kill the Jedi in their midst. Layor paused to assess the scene for a brief second. He noticed Veers duck and dive behind a loader-droid for protection, returning fire to the newcomers. "Jean!" he shouted over the deafening rhythm of blaster fire. And, in that moment everything fell into place. Jean. Draug Layor recognised the name instantly. It belonged to the mysterious Grand Inquisitor who worked alongside some of the most skilled and able agents within the ranks of Imperial Intelligence. His ability to use a lightsaber and command the Force was easily understood, it was a quality Layor believed all members of the Inquisitorious' upper ranks possessed. What it did not explain was why the man was present in an attempt to rescue Veers. Disbelief rocked through Layor like a shockwave. Jean was within the Web to rescue Maximilian Veers. It all made sense. Were it not for Veers' sudden outburst the man may have escaped without causing such a great fuss. Layor summoned his frustration and channelled it. "Hold your fire!" he roared, his tone crashing across the bay like a frozen glacier, silencing the stormtroopers in an instant. There was no mistake as to who gave the command and they knew the authority of Isard's elite guards well enough to obey without question. To their credit, their accompanying officers followed the soldiers' lead and silenced themselves, too. Layor ignored the Field Marshal, trusting the man to cease his pitiful assault as a sign that he was willing to cease fire as long as the stormtroopers were prepared to do the same. The Royal Guard walked across the hanger toward the infamous Jean LeBlanc, intent on speaking with the man and salvaging his own plans.
"Hold your fire!" roared the Royal Guard from across the hanger bay. Jean still did not yield his lightsaber, but his stance relaxed slightly. He was aware that this Royal Guard was up to something, and was not going to give up his prize so easily. As to what the man was going to say to him, Jean did not care. The conversation alone would at least allow Maximillian to go unnoticed long enough to sneak his way onboard his ship. Staring directly at the Royal Guard, Jean spoke. "What is it that you want?"
On the inside, Randal would have normally chuckled at Iaius' presentation over the view screen, but this was not a normal situation. There was far too much importance and sorrow to be told today to have this normally amusing sight cheer him as it does. With a very serious and sad tone, Randal greeted Iaius. "Greetings my Emperor, I bring you dire news from else where in the core. The alien occupation of Abregeado-Rae has resulted in an almost entire extermination of the planet's population. While in the process of negotiating with the Yevethians, their leader ordered a Base Delta-Zero of all the planets population that had been rounded up into multiple containment camps. Admiral LeMond was however able to destroy a portion of the enemy fleet before the every containment campt was able to be targeted. The Yevethians fled back on a previously unknown hyperspace route towards what we believe to be N'Zoth, their homeworld." Giving time for the Emperor to give his feelings, Randal breathed heavily knowing that this conversation had far more to be said.
You know where... "Hold your fire!" shouted the Royal Guardsman. It startled the Field Marshal as much as it startled the six stormtroopers and officers that had been attack him and Jean. But unlike the armored soldiers, he recovered quickly to notice that the fire fight had stopped. The beaten prisoner raised his blaster to take an oppurtunity shot at the two stormtroopers that had been after him, but he hesistated. Should he fire the blaster again, the firefight would resume and he would continue to be pinned behind the labor droid. Veers glanced over to the starfighter to see how far he was from it. He estimated he could make it if the stormtroopers held their fire long enough for him to reach it. Slowly he crept out from behind the labor droid, his blaster and attention on the immediate threat near him while he made his way toward the Reaper. The Field Marshal kept his aim on the nearest of the two stormtroopers, his trigger finger ready to open fire on them should the fight resume again. He was certain his own marksmanship skills could take them both out before the second shot was fired by them. However, he wasn't going to take any chances in case these stormtroopers were actually better than average. Veers made sure his path would take him to the starfighter but with cover along the way in case he had to dive for it.
He did not appreciate Jean's tone. Since initiating his plan, Layor encountered nothing but trouble. The increasing show of resistance from the Field Marshal was becoming both a bother and an annoyance, despite the Guardsman's training and supressed emotion. "I want the same thing you do: Veers' freedom, restoration of the Galactic Empire and Intelligence," Layor said, as he responded to Jean, his tone calm. "Take him with you, he does not trust me despite my effort to prove myself worthy of that trust. Go to Bastion, leave this place." His tone grew dark and Layor repressed his next thought. See that Veers learns to cooperate before he is killed by those trying to serve his best interests. "I tire of service to ignorant and hasty beings," Layor growled, gesturing sharply with his free hand. "Do whatever you please." He gestured to the stormtroopers ordering them to stand at ease, as he turned and stalked back into the vessel, brooding. Layor had done his duty. It was the last favour he would fulfill.
Galactic Emperor Iaius I
Almost there... He had reached the ship. He had finally reached a ship. Finally. Field Marshal Maximilian Veers was almost ready to celebrate his triumph over his captors, but he held back from shouting in glee at having his hand grasp the support handle and hulling himself inside. Quickly he ducked inside and turned around to peek back out with his blaster. Although he had made it into the ship, he still was not free until Jean came aboard and piloted the vessel out of the hanger and into hyperspace. In the meantime, Isard's men could choose to resume the attack despite the Royal Guardsman's orders. Though he did not doubt they would disobey the crimson soldier, it never hurt to be paranoid. And right now he was paranoid of anybody and everything on board the cruiser. No one could blame him. After spending nearly three months in captivity; beaten, starved, taunted, humiliated, threatened and witness to his son's murder, it would be a surprise if he had come out of the ordeal mentally unscathed. He would admit, though not in front of others, that he had become fearful of his captors and afraid of dying despite his display of bravado earlier and telling himself he was willing to die fighting for his freedom. This last month certainly was not his shining moment in the courage department. He closed his eyes, knowing that he had been a coward. He had surrendered to the other Royal Guardsmen when the stormtroopers had ceased firing stun blasts at him. That moment he certainly had proven he was a coward. He had a damn blaster in his hands and he surrendered the moment they set their weapons to kill. He did not want to die then as he does not wish to die now. Some Krieger I turned out to be, he thought bitterly and slumped back against the wall. All this reminiscing the past and his cowardice was making his head hurt. Veers raised a hand to his temple and tried to massage the stinging pain away. He pulled his fingers away to glance at the sticky, opaque fluid that stuck to them. The infection had grown worse in the last few days, he knew he was ill from it. He could feel his own body temperature rise as his weakened immune system tried to fight the bacteria in his temple. The only symptoms he noticed besides the rise in temperature were his frequent naps, the headaches and continued exhaustion. Veers knew that if he did not get medical help soon, he was going to die from the infection. He closed his eyes to try and shut out the latest stab of pain when he heard someone enter the ship. Immediately he opened them again and raised the blaster pistol only too relax again when he recognized the Grand Inquisitor. "I am not going to Bastion," he told the Sith, his voice was hoarse. "I am not going to walk right into her trap. I am tired and dying, I need medical aid and soon and I will not find it on that world." He paused to consider something else. Where would he get medical aid from? He had been forced to make a message denouncing the Empire and his loyalty to the Emperor. There was a good chance that message had been broadcasted throughout the galaxy and that meant he could not seek help or sanctuary on any Imperial world. It meant he could not go to any one of his numerous garrisons because he would not know to whom the commander was loyal to. It also gave his captors a chance to recapture him and give reason for his other enemies to kill him. "I... cannot go to any Imperial world either," he said regretfully and as a man who lost all hope.