OOC:

Personal story I've been thinking about for a while. Post comments if you really want, but I doubt you will. Contains occasional swearing.

"Jamasis, when did you last take some leave?" asked Aeos.

"We usually get a bit of time between missions."

"Right. Have you ever actually gone on leave though? And when, on that point, did you last have a break between missions?"

"There was a few days between helping some mercenaries and guarding RB. Then we didn't really have much work to do, just patrols and the like."

"Jamasis," Aeos replied more sternly. "When did you last take some actual leave?"

Jamasis didn't answer.

"I see. And how many times did you get shot on our last mission?"

"Twice."

"In that case, you're clearly unfit for duty. I'm giving you one weeks leave."

"Bu-"

"No. That's an order. Besides, we're not going anywhere. Some training exercise next. All you would end up doing is sitting around here. Now, go," ordered Aeos.

---------------------------------------------------

Jamasis collapsed onto his bunk. Where am I even meant to go? I've never actually been on leave before. Not got anywhere to go, nothing to do. Kind of proves I'm obsessed. He rose and started to collect some items he knew he would take wherever he went.

What do most people do? Go on holiday? Hah, where and what would I even do. Go home? Bothawui? Last I checked I was wanted dead. Family? Hell, I don't have any family. Well, I might. There's... my father. Bastard. If there's one thing I've always wanted to do was to kick his blasted head in for everything he did to me. Jamasis shrugged. He didn't have anything better to do.

Bothawui? I'm wanted dead, or to be executed. Mob execution, even better. Jamasis picked up one of his DC-15's. Well, I can always take precautions.

----------------------------------------------------

He left the shuttle and walked towards the customs point. He quickly spied out a Bothan customs officer.

"Anything to declare?" asked the Bothan.

"Nothing," Jamasis replied, shaking the officer's hand and placing some credits in it.

"Better search you to make sure."

Bloody Bothans. Jamasis dropped more credits on the floor as the Bothan began to search him. "I think you dropped something," Jamasis said.

"Thanks for noticing. Have a nice stay and so forth."

Bloody Bothans. Scheming and suchlike. Probably going to be followed dozens of times while I'm here. Jamasis paused, though it does always mean I can get weapons and suchlike through. They may be loyal to the New Republic, but no single Bothan would need more than a credit to swap allegiances.

Jamasis lit up a cigarette. He didn't use to smoke, but things changed. New squad leaders. Quite a lot of missions. Being promoted was an issue to. Plus the significant concern he would end this trip in a Rancor's stomach or at the end of a rope probably wasn't doing him any good. Now where do I even go? Hell I didn't think this through. Let's think. I remember that Kasper's dens were usually around the centre of the city, but also in the north. The old guys shop, that was around the north west. I can't have run far from my house, so it must be somewhere near there.

----------------------------------------------------

It was the smell that gave it away. He didn't even see the house. The strong whiff of cheap booze, smoke, and drugs was reminiscent of many cheaper bars Jamasis had visited. But worse. More alcohol, more smoke, and over a long time.

So I'm looking for a drunk, violent and probably drug addicted man, somewhere from middle aged to old. This doesn't take a genius.

What gave it away?

I thought you would leave me alone once I came here.

Nope, I'm still you. So yes, that means you are obsessed and slightly crazy.

This day is going well.

You're alive. You still have a gun. What more do you want?

Jamasis walked up to the house. It was a small thing. In fact it was pretty crap. What did you expect? In truth, he had no real memory of the place. So for all he knew, it once had been fifty stories high and plated in gold. But most likely not. Listening in, a man could be heard, clearly drunk, rambling to himself. A quick glance inside, and the vague memories Jamasis had, and he knew it was his father.

"Bastard," he spat onto the ground. Looking around quickly, he pulled out his pistol and slammed the door open with his shoulder.

"What?" asked his father in a daze.

"You bastard," Jamasis pointed his pistol at the man, and walked towards him.

Realization slowly began to dawn on the man's face, "What? No, no no!" he fell to the ground and scrambled to the wall. "I've got money, over there!"

"I don't give a shit. I just want to kick your head in, then shoot you."

The fear faded slowly from the man's eyes as he grabbed some pills and swallowed them with the help of some alcohol.

"No, No! I want you awake, I want you to feel this!" Jamasis yelled at him. In a few seconds he had passed out. "Bastard!" He slammed his fist into the wall, and began punching it as hard as he could. Why can't I just shoot him! Why can't I blow his brains out! He doesn't deserve to live! Jamasis stopped as blood began to trickle from his knuckles. He pointed the pistol at the sleeping man, and tried to pull the trigger. He couldn't move his finger. It just wouldn't move.

Inwardly Jamasis screamed. Why! He grabbed a half-empty bottle of whiskey and drank until he had to stop. He slammed his head into the wall. He picked up one of the pills and swallowed it. Slowly he began to calm himself, regain his composure. Glancing at the sleeping body of his father, he asked himself, Why? Why can't I shoot him?

Jamasis simply sat on the floor and lit another cigarette. All the while he searched for a reason to even stand up again.

"Hey Aeos, its Jamasis."

"I thought I said one week's leave. You are not coming back before that."

"Uh, actually I was going to ask for an extension. Something came up, and there's not much anyone can do about it."

"Quickly, summarise."

"I'm on Bothawui, for personal reasons, and I'm in a gang. One I used to be a member of. And I can't leave the area for a few days, because they don't trust me."

"They know you are imperial?"

"No. If they ask, I'm ex-imperial. And don't bother contacting me, I won't respond."

"Jama-" Jamasis shut off the link and wiped the comm.’s memory. That wasn't the kind of message he wanted leaving where anyone could find it. No doubt Aeos was unhappy, but what did he care? What could he even do about it?

With a sigh, he collapsed down onto his bunk. Heh, what's the difference between the storm troopers and the criminals? One is more honest, I suppose. Even the beds are the same. Jamasis had examined himself for any significant damage, but it was all temporary. He looked a mess, crusted blood, cuts, bruises and untidy hair.

I probably should do something about that.

Why bother? You are more or less undercover now. The more trashed you look, the more you look like you belong. The less recognisable you are, maybe you don't get killed.

I don't suppose there is a way out?

You've checked. You'll just have to ride whatever comes your way and hope there is a way out. Or, you die.

How reassuring...

Exhausted, Jamasis closed his eyes and tried to release his worries.

------------------------------------------

If there's one thing that criminals know, it is alcohol. Alcohol can cure any wound, and they more than exploit that,[i] Jamasis thought, entering the bar. He couldn't remember the last time he had had a proper drink. On Tadath, drinking was limited because of his job. On missions, he had had a few drinks; but he never finished. For all it was good at, Wraith always ended up in a fight.

He walked over to the bartender, ignoring the discomfort he got from walking, "Have you got any whiskey?"

"Not seen you before. You look a bit shabby as well, can you pay for it?"

"I do, actually. Well I will be honest. I'm new. Just got asked a few questions. The whiskey is my medicine, in a way." Jamasis pulled out some credits, "and I do have the money."

"Fair enough, fair enough. Most of you who get asked questions tend to want a drink afterwards."

"Can you guess why?"

The bartender laughed at that, "Yeah I suppose I can. What type of whiskey, and do you want the bottle?"

"Correllian whiskey. And a bottle would be nice."

"Give us a second. We don't usually get much demand for Corellian whiskey, too expensive for the people who just want to get themselves drunk. Funny story, last guy who wanted it. But sorry, the drink," the bartender disappeared for a couple of minutes, then returned with an unopened bottle. Jamasis poured himself a shot and lit himself a cigarette. The bartender declined when offered.

"You were telling me about the last guy who ordered it?" Jamasis prompted. [i]Damn. Forgot about the cost; and guess who bought it last? Me, I bet. Heh, when you don't have to pay for food or board, alcohol prices don't matter so much.

"Yeah. Some kid, grew up in this bar, in a way. Taken as payment would you believe? And they got rid of slavery so I heard. Anyways he must have been doing something right, because he could afford it. Then again he was pretty good in his work, got a fair bit of extra cash when working. But being a kid, and being in his," the bartender laughed slightly, "unstable years, he went and completely screwed his life up. Of all the things you could do, all the women in here, he went for the boss's niece. 'Course nobody knew about it. Someone found out, and boss tried to have him killed. Ran away, never seen again."

"True story?"

"Aye, knew everyone in it myself. So if there is one thing you can learn, don't go for the boss's niece. Else you might not be so lucky."

"I'll bare that in mind," Jamasis said. That isn't a lie. I mean, waking the sleeping krayt dragon is one thing, but sticking your fist in its mouth and shouting is something else entirely. He downed his second shot of whiskey and poured himself another. He didn't realise that he missed drinking, but he did. Now he had become a smoker. All that time working for a crime lord, yet it was some time in the empire that had got him addicted to narcotics and desperate for alcohol.

"Hey! It's that guy who hit me!" said someone from across the room. Disinterested, Jamasis looked over his shoulder. To his shock, the man was pointing at him. And he had indeed hit him, back at his father's house.

When was that? Two days ago now? I can't remember.

"You wanted a fight, so let's have a fight. This time, let's see how you like being beaten up."

"Do I look like I've never been hit before?" asked Jamasis.

"Hey shut up! You pulled a cheap trick on me, so now I'm pulling one on you. Me and my two mates here, against you. Sound nice? No? Tough shit."

Jamasis sighed and rose from his seat. Very reluctantly he moved towards the three guys, then as soon as he was in range, leapt forwards and punched the one on the right in the face. A satisfying crack could be heard, and the man staggered back, blood on his face.

"Two is fairer, don't you think?" asked Jamasis.

"Shut up," and the lead guy threw a punch towards him. Expecting it, Jamasis stepped backwards and the punch hit nothing.

"You're not that drunk, are you?" The man through another punch, and Jamasis jumped back again. Straight away he moved forwards again and punched him in the gut repeatedly, only to be hit in return by his second friend. Damn, forgot about the lackey. He looked at both opponents and backed away slightly. He waited for one to attack him. Sure enough, the lackey grew tired of waiting and moved forwards and tried to hit Jamasis. He was drunk, and Jamasis only slightly so, so he moved out of the way of the clumsy blow and head butted the man in the face, before kneeing him in the groin. Then he threw the groaning man onto the floor.

The man who had originally started the fight was the only one left. He didn't look remotely startled by the swift dismissals of his friends, and he swayed from side to side. Clearly drunk. Jamasis couldn't be bothered with this dodging and tactics, so just walked forwards and proceeded to punch his opponent again and again, until he fell to the floor in a heap.

"You're cheap tricks done yet?" Jamasis asked.

The man didn't reply, and Jamasis sat back down in his seat. He reached for his shot glass and drank it, before pouring himself a new one. Nice way to avoid attention, wasn't it, he thought.

"That wasn't a fair fight," said the man from behind him. Jamasis looked around again, to see him holding a leg of a barstool. He groaned inwardly. Wouldn't the guy just give up? He rose again, and simply waited for the other man to move. He moved towards Jamasis, clumsily raising the leg higher to hit him. As he drew closer, Jamasis simply drew his pistol and shot him through the head. The whole bar went silent for a few seconds.

Jamasis sat back down in his seat and started to drink again. After a few more seconds, people slowly began to talk again, occasionally glancing at him. Heh, I couldn't be bothered to deal with him for any longer.

"Kasper might want to speak to you now."

"Because I killed one of his workers?"

"Ha, no. Workers are cheap as shit here. You're damn good with that pistol, and you knocked out two of them before you shot him. You might be a special employee, if you get my meaning. It might be best, too, if you left for a while. Kasper might be happy about your capabilities, but he isn't here. Right now, someone else is keeping order, and you might want to stay out the way."

"Aye, that might be best."

"Take the bottle. Get yourself pissed. Maybe tomorrow things will have cooled down."

Jamasis nodded and rose, whiskey in hand, before leaving the bar.

She can't have seen me yet. She doesn’t know I am here; I mean, how can she. She lives over there, and doesn’t particularly like getting involved in the dirtier aspect of the district. I can just walk away; I don't have to get involved. You almost got killed last time, and you have to meet whats-his-name in about three hours. Just walk away. Get drunk. Forget it.

It was unfortunate then, that Amelia chose that time to walk past. She didn't notice Jamasis, or even walk on the same street as him, but he did see her. She quickly walked past her uncle's house to one of the slightly smaller houses on the side. But inside, it to was highly decorated. Jamasis would know, after all; he had spent plenty of time in both.

Damn it! Damn Kasper, damn the army and damn this bloody planet. Damn them all. Why the hell am I here, anyway? To shoot some bastard who I can't pull the trigger on. What am I even doing anymore? Working for my old employer, the one who wants to kill me? And of course, of bloody course I would bump into her. How could I not? Of all the effing things I knew I shouldn't, couldn't do, I did this one. I'm wanted dead, because of her. So what do I do? I go right up to her house, without even bloody realising it. Jamasis leaned against the wall and tried to steady his thoughts.

I can just leave. I can go away, turn around. Hell, I don't even have to turn up at the bar in three hours. I can just sneak out, shoot my way out. I can just go.

Jamasis paused. But that's the one thing I never can do, isn't it? I never just walk away. Damn it, being loyal is fine. Loyalty is great, loyalty has helped keep me alive, loyalty has let me save the lives of my friends. But after so many months, so much time and experience and changes, I come back here, trying to avoid death and all the while I was strapping myself securely to the bomb. I can just walk away.

He looked up towards the house and examined it. The wall was climbable, that was easy. All he needed was an open window; there, the first floor. Not quite the room he wanted, but close enough. The ground floor extended slightly further, so he could climb the fence, onto the roof of the ground floor, and in through the window.

I can still just walk away.

"Damn it," he said to himself.

----------------------------------------------

Quickly glancing around, Jamasis placed one of his feet in a notch in the wall, and placed his hands on top. He quickly pulled himself up, silently thanking the imperfect architecture. He crouched down as he walked along the roof and reached the open window. He glanced inside, making sure nobody else was on the landing, before climbing in. Jamasis moved swiftly down the hall, and then darted into a door on his right. Nobody else was inside; though from experience he doubted this would last too long.

Oh hell.

His stomach was in knots; probably literally. He felt for his pistol, but tried to calm his nerves and hand.

I never shake. Why is my hand shaking now?

He had to leave his gun. The person he expected to come in he didn't want to shoot; or anyone else for that matter. Right now he would probably react to anyone, and probably shoot them as well.

I should have just walked off. I shouldn't be standing here, now.

A minute or so later, someone could be heard walking towards the room. I got this right, didn't I? She hasn't changed room? And the staff people, they never came in here, right? This has always been her personal room? Or am I about to get myself killed?

Amelia entered the room, and Jamasis moved quickly. Immediately he closed the door and gestured to her to be quiet.

"Jamasis? What are you- Why are you here? I thought my uncle put a warrant on your head! How did you?" she would have continued but he placed a hand over her mouth and whispered to her.

"Be quiet."

She nodded and spoke quieter, "I guess you're not supposed to be here then."

"No. Just got here, I think it was three days ago. Not sure. Things have happened. But your uncle still wants me dead."

"He might not, I mean he might have forgotten by now, or forgi-"

"No he hasn't. I was in a bar last night, you know the one I always used to go to? Well according to the bartender some stupid kid who grew up here had a fling with the boss's niece. Apparently there is still a reward for him dead."

"Damn. But, you're here now."

"Yeah, I'll be honest. I didn't, uh, actually come here to, uh, see you."

For a few silent seconds Jamasis felt awful, the air seeming to crush him down. He was broken out of his despair by Amelia turning away from him. Quietly he could hear her starting to cry.

"You haven’t even thought of me, have you."

"Yes, I have, I have thought of you. But I came here to shoot my bastard father. I... there is still an offer for me. I didn't intend to get involved here."

"And that makes it better?" she practically shouted at him. Jamasis frantically gestured for her to be quieter but she ignored him, "don't you tell me to calm down! You are the one who ran away, you are the one who devastated me! I have been here, for months, with no real company, nothing remotely exciting! You left me with that, because I didn't even look at anyone else! My life has been hell for months now, and then you come here and tell me you didn't even want to see me!"

"Of course I wanted to see you, but please be quiet. Look, if I didn't want to see you, if I had forgotten about you, then why am I in your house now? I cared enough to come here, even with people wanting me dead."

She seemed to have calmed, albeit slightly. She wiped a tear of her face before continuing, "You still did all those things."

"I didn't want to! I had to run away, because would me being dead make things any better? Or would they just make them worse?"

"I still hear things. You said you went to the bar last night? Well I heard there was a fight there. Some new guy, shot one of my uncle's workers. Was that you?"

Jamasis paused, "Yes."

"So are you the same person? Where did you even get a gun, a knife is the limit for plenty of people here. Only the bounty hunters, smugglers and really significant people carry guns."

"I'm, well, yes I'm the same person. I've not really changed; so I shot someone, most of the work I did before I left involved leaving people for dead or plain killing them. Shooting someone; well it just ends things quicker."

"Where did you get the gun? I'm serious."

"Well, you know when I ran away? Uh, I ran halfway across the galaxy, quite literally. I ran all the way to, well, an imperial army barracks. Right now, uh, I'm a Stormtrooper."

"So you kill people? Go around crushing planets?"

"Because what you're uncle does, what bought you everything you have was killing people and crushing individuals, yet because it is you that makes it better?"

"There's no difference between the army and the criminals," she said.

Jamasis waited for a moment, unsure what to say. He started to turn and leave but Amelia grabbed him and turned him back.

"Where are you going now?"

"I can't really stay, can I? I mean, if I'm caught? I've got to meet someone at some point as well, and I kind of don't want to be late."

"How do I know you will even come back again?"

"Just... just trust me."

"You said that last time. Several times. Look what happened. Well, this time you are coming back. Today, tonight, but before tomorrow. And here is how I know why," she leaned forwards and kissed him full on the lips, before breaking away. "You are coming back here. Else next time I see you I'll kill you myself."

"No, you couldn't."

"Just come back."

With that, Jamasis left back out through the window and returned to the side streets. A minute or so later, he had already faded away into the normal crowds.

Salken entered the warehouse and turned the lights on. It was mostly empty, but old crates, containers and merchandise could be seen scattered all over.

Like I said, what are we doing?" asked Jamasis. Salken still didn't answer, simply leading him further into the warehouse. They stopped at one of the piles of boxes and crates. It was indistinguishable from the rest.

"Open it up," Salken said. He pointed at one of the crates, and Jamasis obliged.

Holy crap! I never knew Kasper went this far, he thought to himself. The crate was filled with various models of gun. Nothing too recent, and mostly pistols and the like.

"Now, as for what we are doing. Well when you run this sort of business, you don't like competitors. Now recently some of our competitors acquired, shall we say, a fair bit of cash and merchandise that we had. Now me and you are going to teach them a lesson."

Jamasis feigned worry about this situation, "but I was told that what you did was blackmailing and stuff. Now you want the two of us to have a private little war?"

"Oh cut that shit out. I know you've done this before. You have a knife wound, a gunshot wound. You have a bloody pistol. There is a reason I chose you to do this with," he said. "Besides, most of the people in this city don't know we do this. They all think we blackmail and the like, but that isn't very effective against ruthless competitors, is it?"

"So how many are there?" Jamasis asked.

"Thirty."

"Hey, look. I get called crazy, for some of the stuff I do. Thirty, against the two of us? Even I'm not that dumb."

"Trust me, it will make more sense when we get on with it. Now take a rifle, some ammunition too. You can keep your own pistol, but grab some explosives while you're at it."

Jamasis began to look through the crate. Hell. This isn't good. Don't attract attention, but I do it anyway. And now it turns out that something is clearly unusual about me. And then it turns out I'm going straight to the elite, in a sense. How the hell am I going to get out of this? He selected a DC-15 rifle, and took two spare clips. As for the explosives, he just grabbed some detonite and hoped it was enough.

"You ready?" Salken asked.

"Uh, yeah," Jamasis replied. The other man had found a shotgun and a disruptor pistol. "Bit over the top?" he asked the other man.

"Not really. We're fighting inside, and we are trying to kill them, blow the building and get out. Not fussed about making it clean or whatnot."

"I suppose. So where is it, and how do we get there with guns?"

"This has been done in the past you know. Just outside of the district we have a speeder to pick us up. When we get to the right building, it stops, and we get off. You don't have to know where it is, just follow where I go."

So my life feels kind of like it is collapsing, and when I'm on leave I infiltrate a criminal organisation to help them butcher other criminals. Hmm, there might be something wrong with me.

Well...

Oh shut up.

---------------------------------------------

The speeder also wasn't anything special. Even after going around in it, Jamasis doubted he would be able to work out which one it was from a line-up. Well, I'm amazed. Not only is this group much more... well, deadly than I thought it was, it is also nearly impossible to prove they did any murders or suchlike. Unmarked, unremarkable everything. The explosives are probably going to wipe out any evidence in the actual building. Guess this is what you get when the police are Bothans. Sure they may pride themselves on being clever, scheming, and having the best official spies in the galaxy. But that just creates, well, this.

They ground to a halt outside another plain building. Everyone is doing it! Not just the big groups, even the small ones seemed to have caught on. Heh, now I have something to rub a Bothan's face in.

"It's not complicated, Jamsis," said Salken. "It's simple, in fact. What happens is, I knock on the door. Whoever opens it, and any friends of his, you shoot. Then we clear out the bottom floor, and then we clear out the top floor."

"You said thirty?"

"Yeah. See, not as hard as the number sounds."

"If I'm honest, you probably made it slightly har-" Salken had already moved for the door, so Jamasis set himself up. He crouched, around five metres back from the door itself, rifle at his shoulder. Just like basic, I guess.

Salken rang the doorbell, then moved to the side, shotgun ready. A few seconds later the door opened, and Jamasis fired his rifle straight through the door way. There had been two people at the door, dead straight away. A third had ducked into a side room, but not before being shot in the leg.

"Get going!" shouted Salken. Inside frantic movement could be heard as well as a lot of shouting. Jamasis ran inside, just behind the other man, and they immediately split into a door on the right and one on the left. Jamasis went left, Salken right. Inside were three people, scrambling for weapons of some sort. A few quick shots, and he moved on. Salken was clearing out just as quickly. The last room on the ground floor had more than half a dozen inside. Salken's shotgun cracked, causing two of them to literally explode onto the wall behind them. Jamasis took care of two more, and despite a few hasty shots, a few seconds later the room was silent. Innards and blood were quite literally spread across the wall, courtesy of the shotgun.

"Come on, we need to get upstairs," Salken said. The two of them moved towards the stairs, more cautious now. Someone tried to shoot from the top, but fell to Jamasis' rifle. Another followed. Slowly Salken and Jamasis made their way up the stairs, guns ready for any newcomers. At the top, there were three rooms. Deciding not too split up this time, they both moved into the smallest one. It was deserted, but their action encouraged three people to try and trap them. The shotgun cracked, and they fell to the ground. The second room had four more people in it. A blaster bolt came close to his head, and another almost got his arm, but Jamasis took them out with ease.

"Quickly, last room. Only a couple left," Salken said reassuringly. They entered, and fired from the hip without bothering to aim. The effect was similar, however. In an enclosed space there wasn't enough room to avoid the shots, and the few people remaining fell quickly.

"What now?" asked Jamasis.

"These guys were amateurs. That's why it was easy, and why we're both unharmed. Don't get too confident," he warned. "Right now though, go back out to the speeder. There should be some flammable stuff in there. Get it, bring it in here."

Jamasis quickly moved back out to the speeder, where he found a barrel of an unusual smelling liquid.

"What is it?" he asked Salken.

"Actually it is used in a lot of stuff. Just on its own it is quite explosive."

"What stuff?"

"Doesn't matter right now. Just pour a trail of it into all the rooms."

Jamasis poured some in each room, then linked it all back to a large puddle near the door, "Hey, uh, some of them are still alive. We taking prisoners?"

"No need," said Salken. Jamasis nodded, drew his pistol and dealt with the problem. A minute later, and three shots fired, he returned to Salken.

"What else?"

"We have, maybe ten minutes from when we opened fire to leave again. Been eight so far. Just put that detonite in the doorway and get in the speeder."

Jamasis did as he said. As he climbed back into the speeder, Salken took Jamasis rifle. He aimed it at the detonite, fired, and it exploded. That, in turn, caused the liquid to erupt in flame. As the speeder drew away, the whole house became an inferno.

Well, at least it isn't attached to another building. That's one thing I haven't done yet, I suppose. Everyone I have killed, has deserved it, from somebodies view. Wonder how long I can keep that up? I'm in the Imperial army, which is well known for its pleasantries, right now I am going around killing people for a crime lord, and there's probably something else there too. I need a drink, Jamasis thought to himself. He lit himself a cigarette and waited for the speeder to get back to Kasper's district. Then, he could get himself drunk, and to hell with the consequences.