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A well-aimed shot hit his leg, and Darmas Pollaran fell to the cold ground of the Imperial medical facility, dropping his guns that Risha quickly kicked away and holding his palms up.
“Enough!” Through gritted teeth the traitor sighed and looked back up at the Twi’lek smuggler and her companion. “I should have settled this with sabaac. So, Captain, what will it take for me to walk out of here? I know you always have your price.”
Yabaana ‘Dulla holstered her gun cautiously. Her blood threatened to boil at his blatant assumption – of course she knew her own moral compass was shaky at best, but after this betrayal? After deceiving her to work for the Empire’s gain?
He was a bold man to assume her mercy, but he could rely on her curiosity.
“How did a gambler and dilettante end up working for the Empire?” She asked.
Darmas practically snarled, any pretences now dropped; “Do not confuse me with the pose I was forced to take! I’m a citizen of the Empire and an agent of Imperial Intelligence.” Somehow he managed to retain that which Yabaana had always thought of as confidence, but revealed itself now as pure arrogance as he sighed, “It will be a relief to return to a part of the galaxy where men are ruled by more than their… immediate desires.”
Yabaana narrowed her eyes as his implication. He’d have cut my throat in bed if I’d let him get that far. But Darmas’ assumptions on her had ultimately failed, and she shook her head, her tattooed yellow lekku swaying with the motion.
“You’re not going anywhere but the deepest Republic prison.” She stated, her voice as calm as she could hold it whilst gleefully picturing him languishing on Belsavis.
“Oh, but you were there already, weren’t you?”
Huh?
“It’s in ruins. The Republic is too soft to kill its enemies; you let them eat you alive!” Darmas moved to lean back on the medcot behind him, still keeping pressure on the shot Risha had hit cleanly to his side. The two women stepped forward too, giving him nowhere to bolt even though he was settling down. “I know your price.” Darmas declared.
“It’s Dodonna the Republic really wants. Spare me, and I’ll give you my whole dossier on Dodonna. Everything from the day I recruited her. It was easy, you know. One offer of power she wouldn’t have to share with a thousand scrabbling Senators… she couldn’t wait to sign up.”
Arrogance. Yabaana found herself looking Darmas right in the eyes. Her blood was roaring in her ears, her heart pounding painfully in her chest, and her hands shaking because his green eyes held a look she’d seen before; it was arrogance, it was spite, it was patronising pity because he still believed her to be a weak little Twi’lek at the mercy of the stars.
It was the look in the Imperial soldiers’ eyes when they had shot her father all those years ago.
Yabaana stepped forward slowly, not dropping her gaze from the Imperial agent’s, before she suddenly swung her fist and knocked Darmas to the floor. He hit the ground with a pained grunt and stared up at her with eyes wide in horror. She drew her blaster.
“Nothing makes up for the way you used me.”
As she shot him cleanly between the eyes and watched his body crumple to the sterile metal floor, Yabaana ‘Dulla – no, Syndulla, she wouldn’t run from her family name anymore – couldn’t find it in her heart to regret pulling the trigger.