Day 0, 0700Shipment C34899435670RE had started its tedious journey from the Tadath branch of the Imperial Center Store exactly two days, three hours, forty-four minutes, and thirty-five seconds before now. It would be exactly five minutes and twenty-one seconds from now before it would reach the hands of its rightful owner. This delay would be caused by shipments F25969390405AI, K39406820935867IL, V9381039285029AL, and G39059283859683AR, the other shipments of Blackjack squad.
Pauld Spensor, known as “Hauler”, sighed as he looked over the four shipments he was to give out at this stop. He mulled over which one to pick up, eventually deciding on F25969390405AI, and walked into the Blackjack barracks. Even though the freezing barracks were completely devoid of any life forms, he was not surprised. The SCOPE squads were probably deployed or wreaking havoc on a friendly neighborhood near here, although he was closer to believing the second one. Hot air shimmered out of a vent. Remembering the packages K39406820935867IL, V9381039285029AL, G39059283859683AR, and the odd C34899435670RE, he walked back out and put three more packages in the main area of the barracks. The troopers would see them when they came back from whatever they were doing. Walking out of the barracks to pick up the last shipment, C34899435670RE, he thought about the odd package. It was a large rectangular prism, all black, with markings for an expedited delivery of top-most civilian-available speed possible. It had a rough height of two meters with a depth of a half meter, which (in the only way it mattered to him) meant he would have to get out the hover-sled. The weight of the package had upset the entire balance of the landspeeder. For all he cared, the package could not be removed soon enough. How dare a package upset
his delivery routine! He roughly pushed the shipment onto the hover-sled and guided it into the barracks, still fuming irrationally at the package. He left the package and gave it a final sour look. Hot air still shimmered on top of the vent. He shivered once in the freezing barracks and walked out.
--------------------
Crest shook his head as the delivery guy walked out. The hot-air-on-top-of-vent trick was the oldest trick in the book for hiding. It was actually surprising that the delivery guy had not connected the paradox with hot air and a freezing barracks. He deactivated his active camouflage and walked over to his package. Making sure it was his box, he grabbed the box by the handles and dragged it into his quarters. Grabbing his D’skar dagger, he cut the package open and pried the top of it off. The night-ops variant of the
Katarn-class armor lay nestled in the packaging. A DC-17 and its three attachments lay next to it. Crest shed his camouflage scout armor’s chestplate and laid it next to his bed. He then took the boots and leg plates and laid them next to the chest plate. After that, he put his gauntlets and arm plates into the chest plate from neck hole. Finally, he laid his helmet on top of the chestplate. He lifted the bulky chestplate of the
Katarn-class armor and donned it, followed by the boots and leg plates. He then put on the arm plates and the gauntlets. Finally, he donned the helmet. He, being more comfortable with the light camouflage scout, felt slightly uncomfortable with the extra weight. Even though after the surgery and the implantation of the Magnaguard into to him, the weight no longer made a difference, balance still did. He booted up the armor’s diagnostics program.
-----RC.KATARN.ARMOR.DIAGNOSTIC-----
-----Loading... -----
-----Load complete. Running-----
-----Leg Shields: 100%-----
-----Arm Shields: 100%-----
-----Chest Shields: 100%-----
-----Helmet Shields: 100%-----
-----Searching for Squad Signatures-----
-----None found-----
-----Loading Tactical Display-----
-----Enemy Tags: Online-----
-----Health Monitor: Online-----
-----Shields Monitor: Online-----
-----Diagnostic Complete-----
This armor is... awkward. Well, nothing to do but to go to the obstacle course and try this out. Also, I might I want to fire that DC-17 and get used to it.--------------------
Day 0, 1200Crest swung his legs up and over the barrier for the tenth time. He trained the DC-17, with its blaster attachment, on the nearest holo-target. He lightly pulled the trigger; twenty-three bolts lanced away towards the target. Sixteen of the bolts slammed into the target, which caused the target to go down. Two new targets appeared, one within punching distance. Crest threw the punch, and the inbuilt blade drove at target, causing it to dissipate. About forty-some meters separated the last target and Crest, so Crest’s left hand pulled the blaster clip out, and then the blaster attachment came off base. The (relatively speaking) sniper attachment slid onto the base, followed by its respective clip. Two more shots lanced out, dead on target. Rushing forward to move to the next area, Crest swapped back to his blaster attachment. Jumping over a small rope, Crest rushed it into the next area. The targets were bunched up behind cover on the far side of a cleared out firing range. The blaster attachment came off; the anti-armor attachment slid in. The flap at the back of the firing assembly opened and Crest shoved a charge inside it. Making a best-guess trajectory idea, Crest pulled the trigger. The charge went in a shallow arc and exploded behind the targets. About five of the targets went down. A new charge was shoved in, and it was fired again in a lower arc. The charge landed a bit forward of where he had intended, but it was close enough to dissipate all of the targets. Switching to the blaster attachment, Crest rushed to the end of the course, finishing it in thirty seconds.
Well, I guess this is as good as I’m going to get with this armor. Might as well pack and get going.--------------------
Day 0, 2000“Ah, yes. Mr. Godown, your suite is on the upper deck, room six. If you will please leave your baggage here, we will store it for you,” informed the stiff-necked greeter.
Not willing to let the valuable armor contained in the suitcase out of his sight, Crest replied, “No, thank you. I would prefer to keep my baggage, if that is okay.”
“Sir, you must understand that this is standard procedure-”
“How much does your vision cost?”
“Wh...one thousand credits,” replied the greeter, after realizing what Crest had meant.
“Gladly. There you go. Now, can I go?”
Smiling, the greeter replied, “Thank you for your business, Mr. Godown. Please have a pleasant stay aboard this company’s first C-3 Luxury Liner, the
Genesis.”
Giving a smile, Crest picked up the suitcase and walked on into the C-3. The company had not deemed it important enough to give the passengers a map, so he just roamed around the ship, in an attempt to find a mean of transportation to the upstairs deck. A half-hour later, Crest was utterly lost.
--------------------
Day 0, 2300Crest had absolutely lost all sense of direction on board the ship. He had no idea if he was near the engines or the front. He thought he was on the starboard side of the ship, but by now, he did not even have the slightest idea if that was true. One red placard on the gray walls caught his attention. It was a fire escape plan, but, thankfully, it had a complete, although crude, deck plan of the entire ship. The nearest staircase was indicated as third door down. Walking to the third door down, Crest pushed it open and, finally, saw the staircase he had so desperately scoured the deck for. On the second deck, he saw his suite at the end of the hallway. Walking into it, he set his suitcase down and examined it. A window served as the wall separating him from the vacuum of space, affording him a beautiful, sweeping view of space. However, at the current moment, he was more concerned about sleep. He had only one thing he needed to take care of before he went to sleep. He keyed the built-in comlink.
“Hello, sir. What can we get you?”
“A map.”
--------------------
Day 1, 0700Crest sighed as he contemplated waking up.
Do I actually have to wake up? I guess not.That settled the debate.
--------------------
Day 1, 1100Crest had finally decided to wake up and had come to slight sitting position on top of the bed. Sighing once more, he pushed himself onto his feet. The suitcase containing the armor lay right beside the bed.
Crest was suddenly overcome by a sudden desire to try the new toys he had procured.
Patience...remember why you’re going. You’ll have more than enough time to torture and kill them, with these new toys. You will make them pay a thousand times over.Hunger gnawed away at his stomach, so he prepared himself by using the various provided amenities, including the shower. Favoring comfort over style, he decided on some of the more comfortable clothes he had. He slid his D’skar dagger into its sheath inside the sleeve that Crest had made for it on all his full-sleeved shirts and, picking up the map, walked out in an attempt to find some form of breakfast or lunch. The map indicated two places that could fulfill his request: “Fors'ca'ir Formal” and “Sakvilr's Saloon”.
Formal or informal? Well, the food quality would be guaranteed in formal, but...A cursory glance towards his clothes quickly threw away the idea.
Informal, it is then. A brisk walk brought him to the “Nal Hutta Quick”. A seed of disappointment came over him as he saw that it was a bar.
A bar? Do I really want to go to a bar for breakfast? Well...unless I want to change into something stiff and formal...yeah, I’ll go.He walked through the glass doors to a wholly underwhelming bar. Personally, he had never even entertained the thought of drinking, so he had usually stayed away from bars even though he could remember a certain group with a certain cantina that had very fond of that particular act.
This bar had two patrons sitting in a booth. A serving droid was wheeling in and out of the kitchen at their multiple requests of alcohol. Choosing a stool at the bar, he waited for the serving droid to get a break from the rude patrons and come over to him. Thankfully, the droid, being quick and efficient, did not take that long.
“My apologies on the delay, what would you like to have, sir?”
Crest lifted his eyes with a bored expression at the droid and responded, “The biggest entrée you serve on the menu.”
“What would you like to have to drink with that?”
“Water.”
“It’ll be out to you as quickly as possible.”
The one of the two earlier patrons remarked to his friend, “Hey, look at that, Vando, we’ve got ourselves a non-drinker!”
Vando? Where have I heard that name before? Where...“What about it, Myzir? Come on, let’s go back to drinking.”
Myzir? Now both those names sound very familiar. Vando and Myzir?The memory came rushing back at him.
--------------------
Crest’s arms burned as if they contained a fire of the hottest magnitude. He had held the rifle for so long he had now forgotten the time, yet he had not complained. Now, he was going to have to go through this blasted course, again. However, this time there were going to be droids. The course was hard enough by itself.
I will make sure I find the people who dropped their blasted rifles and made Dirge do this. And I will rectify their problem. Painfully. Very painfully.Dirge started speaking again, “Take this seriously. Trust me a stun bolt to the face in not fun! Right, first up is Private Titan; you’ll be leading a group of six recruits. Private Jax, Private Peteron, Private Myzir, Private Sonpas, Private Yorchur, Private Vando. I’m going to set a target time of 6 minutes, GO!”
--------------------
Standing up from stool, Crest queried, “Private Myzir, Private Vando, correct?”
Myzir replied, “Yeah...wait a sec, how do you know us?”
Vando joined in, “And which bantha-brained fool are you?”
“Private First Class Crest, although you knew as Private Titan Godown.”
“You! Vando and I still have to talk to you.”
“Come on, Private Myzir, we’ll go to my room and talk there. There’s no need to be uncomfortable here.”
A look of contempt at Crest crossed Myzir’s face before he replied, “It’s ex-private, now.”
“Ex-? How...what happened?”
“YOU!”
“What...what did I do?”
Vando and Myzir separated, flanking him. Although they were obviously drunk, they were still dangerous opponents, having been trained stormtroopers at one point. Crest fingered his D’skar dagger but not drawing it yet, hoping this would come to a peaceful end.
“The day after you, our
glorious leader, were shipped out, Sonpas committed suicide.”
Crest, dropping all other thoughts, whirled around to face Myzir, “You’re lying! There was no reason for him to do that!”
“Tell me this...who was the first to fall?”
“Sonpas?”
“Yes, he killed himself because you, our glorious leader that you were, let him fall. He felt that he could be no use to any squad he would be placed in, so he killed himself. Naturally, a Board of Inquiry was formed to determine if there was foul play. After much deliberation, it was determined that his trial run squadmates, us, were responsible. We were held in a prison awaiting execution, until you were captured. However, you were out on a mission and out of their grasp for some time. The five of us used this opportunity to escape, but Peteron, Yorchur, and Jax were killed in our escape.”
“No...No...NO! This can’t be true. I wasn’t arrested the moment I returned. YOU HAVE TO BE LYING!”
“Denial, you fool? Don’t try. We know all, and you will pay for this!”
Myzir lunged at him, propelling his right hand in a punch. Steeling his mind from any hesitations, Crest swept his right forearm into Myzir’s forearm, knocking the punch aside. Crest’s left hand drew the dagger from it sheath. As he lunged to finish off Myzir, Vando jumped on him. As they hit the floor, the dagger slid from hand. Rotating his back, so that Vando was leaning to the right of him, Crest brought his elbow back in a straight aim at Vando’s chest. In an attempt to block the blow, Vando released his hold and brought his arms together to protect his chest. Crest rotated, throwing Vando off. Not bothering to find his feet, Crest half-crawled, half-ran at the dagger. His fingers closed around the dagger, as he whirled around to see Myzir rushing at him, winding up to punch with his right arm. Locking Myzir’s punch under his shoulder, Crest let his dagger taste the flesh of Myzir’s chest. Ripping the dagger out, he stabbed one more time into the stomach. Dropping Myzir, Crest leaped at Vando, bringing his dagger in at the neck. The dagger sunk into the soft flesh of the neck. A second later, the dagger was released from its target as Vando’s head dropped to the floor with a sickening, organic thump.
“Oh, my.”
Crest whirled around, the bloody dagger rising up to slice open the next enemy that appeared. It was the serving droid.
“Alarms have been set off. Stay exactly where you are.”
A few minutes later, a heavy security team of twenty outfitted with riot suppression gear and the greeter, whom Crest had¬ met the day before, came rushing towards the bar, expecting a full bar fight to be in progress. The team was obviously startled at the appearance of only one person.
“Drop the dagger and get on your knees!” instructed the security officer in the front. Crest meekly complied.
“So...it’s you. Back to your quarters. You are now under house arrest,” the greeter growled out.
“The recordings will prove that I’m innocent.”
“Hmph. Not my place to decide. You’ll be handed over to the authorities at Bestine IV”
“Can I get my dagger back once I’m in my quarters?”
“I’ll think about it.”
Four security officers and the greeter escorted him back to his room. After putting him in the quarters they somehow broke his side of the lock, making it impossible for him to leave. Despite his statement to consider handing the dagger back to Crest, the greeter just left with it.
As he sunk into the bed, the gruesome end of Vando’s head struck into his consciousness.
Oh, what have I done?--------------------
Day 5, 1300“Come on, we’ve arrived. And grab your luggage.” The security officer stood impassively in the doorway, waiting for Crest to follow him.
“We’ve arrived? I would have never guessed. It’s not like you gave me an entire, blasted wall as a window.”
The security officer’s expression soured by a fractional degree before he roughly responded, “Cut it, and get going. They’re waiting for you.”
Grabbing the suitcase, Crest followed the security officer out of the room and the C-3 Luxury Liner. As he stepped out onto the docking platform, a group of white-shelled stormtroopers rushed forward to arrest him.
“Stormtroopers, just to arrest me? I’m so flattered that you consider me such a threat,” Crest remarked as the stormtroopers cuffed his hands together.
“You should never have killed them in space. Space is under the custody of no planet, and any crimes are prosecuted under Vast Empire law. Have a nice time rotting in jail!”
Crest let loose one laugh as the stormtroopers lead him away. After a moment’s pause, the very disturbed security officer walked away back into the ship.
Soon, the stormtroopers and Crest entered into the local security outpost. Inside were two people, the ship’s greeter and one army officer, who bore the insignia of a Captain.
In a manner of greeting, the captain ordered, “Identify yourself.”
Crest replied with his ID line, the quickest way identifying someone, “Sir, Trooper, Private First Class Titan ‘Crest’ Godown, Third Squad, First Platoon, First Company, First Battalion, First Regiment, Tadath, Vast Empire Army, Vast Empire.”
“First Regiment, First Battalion, First Company, First Platoon, Third Squad? Lieutenant!”
A masculine voice from inside responded, “Uhhh, it’s giving a ‘Restricted’ block, sir, so I’d guess it checks out.”
“Was there ever any doubt, Captain?” Crest queried.
“For the civvy, yeah, there was quite a bit of doubt. For myself, I knew you were a trooper, the moment I saw you.”
The ship’s greeter, who was now obviously more than a greeter, did not catch the insult directed at the “civvy” and watched the exchange, impassively.
Crest decided to press his advantage and asked, “So now what? Did the recording not prove my innocence?”
“This civvy is refusing to give over the recording, so-”
Crest abruptly cut in, “Then how can they prove that I did something? Without the recording, they can’t prove I did anything. No one saw anything.”
The greeter retorted, “There was a droid-”
“Droids can have fake memories placed in them, and that one came after it was finished, anyways.”
The greeter continued, “-You had a bloody dagger in your hand.”
“You can’t prove it was used to kill them without the recording.”
The captain decided the kill the rising emotions here, “So the only way you can effectively ask me to detain him here is if you hand over the recording.”
“But...it’s our company’s policy not to record events, to protect privacy,” cried out the greeter, in a final attempt.
“Then you cannot charge them under Vast Empire’s law. We need evidence that it was an unprovoked attack by him to prove it. A half-decent lawyer could easily prove that it
could be a provoked attack, and that sliver of doubt would be enough to let him off. Also, the two that were killed were obviously drunk at the time, so it is even more likely that
they attacked him.”
The greeter spun around and fumed out of the outpost. As soon as he left, the lieutenant who had spoken before came out of the back room.
The lieutenant snapped off a crisp report, “Sir, I’ve got the recording.”
The captain responded, “And?”
“He’s good”
A very confused Crest broke into the conversation, “Sir, no disrespect, but I thought they said had no recording.”
The lieutenant doubled over, laughing. The captain turned and responded to Crest with a smile, “They’ve tried to do it before. The reason they didn’t want to release the recording is because they record people at
every, like as in
every, moment they are on the ship. You can somewhat understand the public backlash that would occur if that would occur. The first time they tried it, we became suspicious and sliced into their ships computers for the recording.”
The lieutenant, barely recovering from his laugh attack, took over the explanation for a moment, “It was lying right out in the open. No encryption or anything. They didn’t even have basic protection. A Gamorrean could slice into their computers.”
The captain gently took back the ongoing explanation, “Anyways, it’s a problem that is now even included into package that orients new commanders on this post.”
Crest replied, “Anyways, it doesn’t matter what you two did, sir; it matters that you did it. Thanks. If you don’t mind, can I ask a question?”
“Shoot.”
“What happened with Myzir and Vando?”
“It’s a sad story, actually. They were to be acquitted the day they escaped. However, I guess it doesn’t matter now.”
Crest paused a moment to contemplate this before asking his next question, “I’m looking for a cantina called the
Mongrel’s Mongoose; it collapsed a few years back if I’m not wrong.”
“Sure. Outside you’ll see a shuttle service. It’ll take you to Palac, and you’ll find the
Mongrel’s Mongoose within that city.
“Thank you, sir.” Crest saluted, and turned to walk out.
“Crest?”
“Yes, sir?”
“You missing something?” the captain asked, holding up Crest’s bloodied D’skar Dagger.
Smiling, Crest replied, “Thank you, sir. Let me guess, they tried to submit it as evidence?”
“Pretty much. The fools didn’t even clean the blood, so you’re going to have to clean it if you don’t want rust to start forming.”
“Thank you again, sir.” Crest saluted and walked out.
Watching the tall stormtrooper walk out, the lieutenant asked the captain, “You know you’re not allowed to be a tourist guide and give out locations.”
“So?”
“Why’d you do it?”
“He should go there and settle his past.”
“How do you know him?”
“I’m the one you convinced him to join.”
--------------------
Day 6, 1900“Uh, sir?”
“Yeah?” Shazack responded with a shiftless tone.
“We’ve got interesting signature readouts on what somebody brought into the main room.”
“What is it?”
“Um... that’s the interesting part. We don’t have a record of that particular signature.”
“Okay, so did your slothful team get a physical or electro-magnetic signature scan?”
“Yeah, and they’ll be included in your hourly report.”
“You fool! If you’re coming up here to tell me you don’t know what something is, bring all the kriffing scans! Now get down there and get the scans!”
“Yes, sir.”
The security officer ran away. Shazack sighed. He had a half-incompetent security team that seemed to have borrowed the brains of a Gamorrean. They even smelled halfway Gamorrean. There had been one person who had made his life so perfect, by doing a very good job. He had even pushed this exact same security team to perfection. Unfortunately, he had abused the man, and the man had left,
after he had caused the cantina to collapse. Shazack had been forced to find the old plans and rebuild the
Mongrel’s Mongoose. It would be such a stroke of luck, if he got him back. Shazack would even offer him a bigger salary than his own, in addition to smaller hours and many more comforts. However, there was no point reminiscing about what had been lost.
“Sir, sir! I’ve got it for you.”
“It’s about time, you fool. Hand them over.”
The security guard meekly complied and handed over the datacard that contained the two other scans. Shazack stuck the datacard within his datapad and pulled the two scans up, side by side. The physical scan revealed what appeared to a bulky chest plate. On the other hand, the electro-magnetic signature was warped, suggesting that there were more armor pieces, perhaps a complete set, inside the chest plate. Moreover, he did not recognize the chestplate, and black-marketing was quite a liquid trade. The chestplate, and its accompanying armor pieces, would be very rare.
He mused aloud, “So...our friend has got a rare armor, but how to get it?”
“Sir, can I suggest something? We could just take him ‘aside’ and kill him.”
“That’s such a surprisingly short memory you have. Have you already forgotten everything he taught you?”
“Um, no, sir.”
“Then use that
thing up there that is resting on top of your neck and tell me why that’s a bad plan.”
The guard went silent for a moment while he reviewed the old, improvised lessons he had been taught. He replied, “Sir, it would be a bad idea because when we would go into the bar and ask him to come aside, it would make a scene. When he would not re-appear, anybody could connect the dots that he had been killed. In the end, it puts out a bad word for us, thereby reducing our patronage and the chances of rare items that would pass into our hands.”
“Good, and he said to do what in these situations?”
“Ah, right. The dancer, yeah, I remember, sir.”
“So? Get on it! I want her location, now!”
The guard jumped back at the sharp tone, and pulled out his datapad to search the requested location. Although Shazack used that tone carelessly, it still made a quiver of fear appear in the hearts of who heard it, no matter how many times it had been heard before. Of course, that one person had been able to withstand it, but, then again, he had forged the group into a sharp spear, which could do essentially whatever it wanted to do. He had nothing to fear from Shazack, since each person had been just as loyal, if not more, to him.
“Found her! She’s scheduled for a shift in the cantina in about one hour.”
“Alright, that’s a good job. Standard asset retrieval mission lay out. Take her off the list and find a replacement; I don’t care who it is. I’ll go to her to explain the target. Speaking of that, in the rush, I forgot to ask you who it was. Report, on the double, and then follow with my other instructions.”
“Copy that, sir. Target is a tan, black-haired, blue-eyed human male. Height is approximately one point eight five or six. He’s carrying a black suitcase with the target inside of it. He’s booked a room for tonight, number one twenty-three. He’s taken seat number five on the bar.”
“Good. Let’s get going.”
--------------------
You guys seemed to have lost your edge. I know you took the physical and electro-magnetic signature scans, so what’s taking Shazack so long? I even saw you come back down and retrieve the scans. Ah...there’s the covering team, finally.Three civilian-clothed guards, who, if procedures had not changed, were carrying hold-out blasters, entered the packed cantina from the outside. Crest pushed the small stopwatch built-in to his chronometer. Seconds passed away like sand. Exactly forty-two seconds later, a green-eyed, shoulder-length raven-haired, tan-skinned, and drop-dead gorgeous female human entered the cantina.
No, no, no, what did I try to teach you guys? Never round off a number exactly. Make the number a mixture of even and odd number. Do not use a completely odd, a completely even number, or a number with any pattern to it. An organic mind works in mysterious ways. No matter how hard you try to hide those numbers, somebody will eventually find that pattern and think whatever it was with that number was planned. If you don’t want two people to be associated, then put more than thirty seconds but less than one minute, preferably forty-five and ninety-one hundredths seconds. Why did I even bother teaching you guys? Now, she is to sit down at the farthest seat with a clear line towards me.The female human obeyed his command as if she was a puppet and he was the puppet master. As she walked to the bar, Crest saw that a few men turned their heads to watch her and that those who did not turn their heads at least shifted their eyesight at her. She sat down at the seat number one, the farthest from the outside entrance.
Now, you’re going to wait until I have two drinks, and then you’re going to show interest in me, by moving into the seat immediately on my right side.Calling for one more drink, Crest bided his time, making sure to take as much time as possible to annoy his enemies. As the bartender slowly waded through the requests before Crest’s request, Crest showed a fake interest in the dancers that were performing on the stage behind him, in order to portray an appearance of a very easy target. Once the bartender reached him, Crest increased his order to two drinks, in order to reduce the delay. Crest quietly slipped in one capsule into each of the drinks, which would neutralize the mind-clouding alcohol. He would need his mind to remember everything it could about this place, and alcohol was not going to help that.
Alright, here’s to a successful strike.Crest took the nearest of the two glasses, and emptied it. That glass was quickly followed by the second one. The dancer, although appearing casual, purposefully moved into the seat on his right, just as he had taught the group. Knowing that she was about to strike, Crest grabbed the first glass and, in a blur, hurled it across the cantina towards the middle guard, out of the three. He then smashed the second glass into the person sitting on his left. Grabbing that patron’s glass, he tossed it across the bar, onto an unlucky person sitting on the other end. The bar was immediately turned into a full-scale bar-fight arena. Crest, almost casually, swung himself onto the bartender’s side, and grabbed the standard-issue stun blaster and fired two rounds at the bartender. Being hit by the two rounds, the bartender slumped to the floor. Crest tossed the gun away, after grabbing its powercells.
Now Shazack will have to gather and dispatch a security team to take care of this, which will give me about twenty minutes.Flipping himself back onto the other side of the bar, Crest clamped his enhanced hand onto his assassin and forcefully led her toward the room, which he had booked supposedly for tonight. Once in there, after gagging female, he tied her to the bed, which had been moved so that it was the first thing seen when entering the room. Crest opened his suitcase, donned his armor, and grabbed the DC-17. Taking a position near the door, he waited for the inevitable entrance of the security team.
Just as he had trained them, the team entered the door, splitting their fields of vision in order to cover the entire room. Crest sprung out of his hiding place and smashed the rifle’s stock into the face of the nearest guard. A kick sent the middle guard, who had gashes from where the glass had struck him, into the far corner.
“Please don’t hurt me! I can give you information,” the last guard cried out.
“Really? You can give me information? I seriously doubt it,” Crest replied.
“I promise you! I know quite a bit about-”
“Ah, just shut up! I know a lot more than you.”
With no warning, Crest smashed his elbow into the last guard’s face, knocking his consciousness into the oblivion.
Turning to his gagged assassin, Crest gave a quasi-explanation, “I’m sorry it came to this, but I need to get to Shazack to settle some old... debts. Again, I’m sorry, but I really need to do this.”
Crest stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. To keep out any drunk bar patrons, he smashed the lock, effectively sealing whatever was outside of the room out the room.
You are a fool, Shazack, but at least I know how you think. You’re going to first try to control the bar fight, so you’ll send the entire group there. Minimum time that will be needed for that will be almost twenty minutes. Although taking you down once I’m in your office won’t be hard, how do I get to your office in the middle of a lockdown? Let’s see what I can remember about your office. You had a desk that was two meters wide, one meter high, and half a meter deep. You always kept some type of beverage on the desk. Wait, how did you always get that? The guards were never given special instructions to allow a regular delivery. Let’s see what I can remember about the building. There was a service elevator on Sublevel Five, and it led to... I have you now!Crest took off to the staircase at the end of the hallway. The heavy footfalls of the
Katarn-class armor made his approach the anti-thesis of stealth, but, as he had predicated, he encountered no one. The blunt, rapid approach quickly led him to the service elevator. He folded himself into the elevator, and hit the button taking him up to the office.
Checking his chronometer, he saw it had been about eighteen minutes.
Won’t this bloody thing go any faster! Well, it’s going to be close call if nothing else.The seconds ticked away on the chronometer. It hit nineteen minutes.
So, I’ll have less than a minute before Shazack’s guards come back. This is going to have to be a blasted good asset retrieval.The elevator silently slid to a stop. Emptying his mind, Crest violently kicked the elevator’s door out. Shazack, the only occupant of the office, spun around at the noise. Without waiting for an explanation or an apology, Crest clamped his hands onto Shazack. Keeping the hand firmly clamped on Shazack, Crest sent him crashing through the nearby window.
“What do you want!?!” yelled a dangling Shazack
“Shazack, Shazack, you never could figure out what I was doing. I was always above you in skill.”
“You are...Titan, I’ll give you a million credits per year- no -month, just come back. Anything you want. You don’t understand; I’ll give you anything!”
Crest paused a moment to contemplate the offer. Those credits, those keys to power, were nearly ten times his salary in the Stormtrooper Corps. On the other hand, was not he on this journey to avenge the evil stemming from the greed of those keys to power? He steeled his mind.
“You never could understand me. I have something better to motivate me to fight, not your petty stealing. What I’m here for is a
mine on Coruscant.”
“Gold or silver?”
“Diamond.”
“I don’t think I have any of those left on Coruscant ever since the NR took over, but I might have one. Let me think.”
“You’re not thinking fast enough.”
“I think it is number one-five-five-one-nine.”
Flipping Shazack back into the office, Crest went for the thick black book sitting on the corner of the desk. Flipping through the pages, Crest found the number Shazack had said. Crest carefully tore it out of the page.
After confirming it had what he needed, he gave one word to express his sarcastic gratitude, “Thanks.”
Crest walked over to Shazack’s data terminal and activated it.
-----Shazack.Control.Panel-----
-----Input:Crest typed in three characters.
-----Input
#) -----
-----(#) Activated-----
-----Password Required-----
-----Input:Crest input his password for this hidden function of the terminal.
-----Input: DESERTION-----
-----Password Confirmed-----
-----Estimated Time until Detonation: 1080-----
-----Please Evacuate-----"You've got about three hours. I suggest you start running.” Crest called out as he pulled out the DC-17 and emptied an entire clip on the terminal, effectively destroying it and preventing any attempts at disabling the program from the terminal.
“No, you’re going to do that again, aren’t you?”
“It’s your fault for not updating the software in the terminal. Have a nice time!”
Crest calmly folded himself into the service elevator and sent it on its journey back to Sublevel 5. Once there he calmly returned to his room. Holstering his DC-17, he pulled out the disruptor pistol. Aiming it at the locked door, Crest fired once, cutting himself a nice hole into the room. The female human still lay on the bed, and the three guards he had knocked out lay drooling on the floor. Taking his immaculate, gleaming dagger, Crest cut the ropes holding her.
“I’d suggest you find a new job,” remarked Crest.
Ignoring Crest’s remark, she replied, “Did you settle that debt with Shazack?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“Oh, nothing too much. I just broke into his office, gave him a life or death experience, took a valuable piece of information, and set the tavern to collapse in about three hours. Yeah, I was being modest this time.”
“How did you...How did you know what to do?”she asked, completely dumbfounded.
“Wouldn’t I remember the designs of the place and the tactics I taught this group? I was the one who designed the place and taught most of the tactics, after all.”
“Wait, that means you’re...”
Crest’s only reply was a stare, devoid of any emotion.
“Master,” she began, using the honorary title he had earned in his service, “If you wish to return to service, do you know that everyone here is still loyal to you? You could over throw Shazack in a heartbeat, if you so wished.”
Oh, curses. Had I not promised myself that I would not let credits or any material wealth stop me? On the other hand, what I could gain is credits beyond my wildest reckoning. I could become more powerful than my wildest dreams of advancement in the Stormtrooper Corps. No, I will not be stopped. Remember why you are on this crusade. Remember why.“Like I told Shazack, I have found something better fight for, not this petty stealing and robberies. If you are still loyal, then repay me with one favor.”
After a moment’s pause, she replied, “What do you need, Master?”
“I need a way to get to Coruscant, preferably somewhere I could take a shuttle to any part of the planet.”
Smiling, she replied, “Consider it done. Would you mind if I came with you? I have always wanted to see Coruscant.”
Crest had to think only for a moment, “Why not? However, I never did catch your name, even if you did say it.”
“Me, Master? Aieay Viraa.”
“Drop that stupid title, Aieay and call me Crest, if you don’t mind.”
“Fine with me, Ma- Crest.”
Crest replied, smiling, “Shall we be going, then?”
--------------------
Day 7, 1837The viewport of the station afforded a beautiful, sweeping view of the corroded, half-decent AA-9.
“Was that the best your contact could do? I wouldn’t trust that thing to go half-way to the nearest moon,” grumbled Crest.
“Well, sorry, he couldn’t do much on such short notice and getting you across war lines is hard enough.”
“Aieay, I’m joking. I know that was the best he could do, and, frankly, I’m surprised the Republic even allows this.”
Aieay threw an exasperated look at Crest. There was absolutely no way to know what that guy meant when he said something, but she could bear it since he was skilled, if nothing else. Her former group’s professionalism had been a testament to that.
Crest saw the look, and grinned at her exasperation.
“Shall we be going?”
“Seriously, you have to ask me?”
“After you, then,” Crest replied with a gesture for her to go first.
Smiling, she walked into docking apparatus, followed by Crest. The airlock operator greeted them, “Ms. Viraa and Mr. Godown, it is a pleasure to have you here aboard Hopeful Spirit. You have been assigned Room Number Nine Three Four Two.”
Crest asked, “I thought we asked for two separate rooms, did we not?”
“Yes, but the captain wanted to take more people this trip, so two people are being assigned to each room. Is there anything else?”
Aieay looked almost ready to explode at the news. Crest lightly laid a hand on her shoulder and, before she did anything, replied, “That’ll be just fine.”
The airlock operator, thankfully having missed Aieay’s anger, opened the airlock and let them through. As they walked into the ship, Aieay angrily asked, “You do know that he just ripped us off?”
“Yeah.”
“And we could have probably fought for that room?”
“Yeah.”
“And we could have won?”
“Yeah.”
“And you won’t be getting your credits back?”
“Yeah.”
“So why didn’t you do anything?”
“First, the credits never mattered. Second, even if we won, the captain would have just refused to let us in, for any reason he wished. Third, if we had fought for the extra room, the operator would have refused to let us in, for any reason he wished. Lastly, I really don’t care, and since I’m paying for this trip that’s what matters.”
“But-”
“Aieay, listen to me. I’ve seen little compared to some people I know, but there’s one rule I try to follow: Don’t let the small things ruin the fun.” At her unconvinced look, he added, “Come on; remember you’re going to Coruscant. Think of the city’s appearance from one of those high towers, the glittering lifestyle that you always wanted to have, and how the city never shuts down. Who cares if a random person who you met twenty-four hours ago lost some creds?”
She smiled, her anger dissipating, and jokingly replied, “Maybe because that random guy was a legend where I worked? Maybe because it’s you?”
“Me? A legend? Not in the wildest dreams.”
“You should’ve heard the stories after the tavern shut down and Shazack would be holed up in his office. You were the favorite subject; practically every story was about you. Well, all the interesting stories were about you, at least.”
“You’re joking,” Crest replied, walking straight and ignoring a branching hallway.
“No joke and, Crest?”
“Yes?”
“We need to go this way,” Aieay instructed, while pointing at the sign indicating rooms nine thousand through nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine were down the hallway that Crest had ignored.
“What would I do without you?”
“Be very, very lost,” she replied with a smile.
“Ain’t that the truth.”
--------------------
Day 8, 1759Crest carefully looked over his various garment choices, with a disdain for all of the formal ones. On the other hand, he should be wearing something formal today. It would never to do to go to his first formal dinner with Aieay without suitable attire, even though he despised formal clothes. He sighed and chose a nice red and black formal suit. As usual, he slid his dagger into its sheath inside the sleeve. Just as the chronometer struck its next minute, Aieay, dressed beautifully for the occasion with a long, golden dress that beautifully accented her tan skin, entered his half of the room, which was separated by the makeshift wall Crest had created last night.
“You ready, Crest?”
“When am I not?”
After pondering the question for a moment, she conceded the argument with a nod.
“Are you ready to go, Aieay?” Crest inquired.
“Yes, I think.”
“After you then.”
--------------------
Aieya softly laughed at the witty retort, which had been so kindly borrowed (without credit) from Dunny. The orchestra played a soft, but fast, tune, which somehow stimulated conversations. A waiter brought out two platters, one gigantic in proportion, and one that seemed light in comparison.
The waiter politely asked, “Um...which one of you order the Grand Platter and which one of you ordered the vegetable salad?
Crest sarcastically retorted, “What do you think?”
The waiter contemplated the question for a second, left the Grand Platter in front of Aieya, handed Crest the vegetable salad, and then left. The two of them looked at each other, deciding their responses. As one, they laughingly exchanged the dinners, and proceeded to devour them.
“You know, the one thing we could never figure out is why you left. Why did you leave?”
“Because I hated Shazack,” promptly responded Crest.
“You’re lying and taking the easy way out. Tell me the truth.”
“Can we not just talk about that?”
“No,” retorted Aieya, intent on finding the answer.
“Fine, let me think. It had been one year since I had joined them-”
“I know that part.” After seeing Crest’s stare, she added, “Sorry.”
“It had been one year since I had joined them. Shazack and I had received unconfirmed rumors shipment of a shipment containing various crystals, ones that were even more distantly rumored to be able to focus one of those supposed ‘lightsabers’. You know, the supposed weapons of those mythical ‘Jedi’, guardians of the Old Republic. Shazack decided that we would use one of our diamond mines-”
“Mines? You mean like an actual mine? What good would a mine do in this situation?” After seeing the fleeting look of exasperation on Crest’s face, she attempted to apologize for the interruption, but Crest waved it off.
“Mining is a system Shazack came up with. We would first find a suitable person, the mine, who would have either credits, a gold mine, or information, a silver mine-”
“Then what is a diamond mine?” asked Aieya before Crest could continue to the last type of a mine.
With a stare to indicate that he was getting to the part she was asking for, he continued, “One of the rarest types of mine was a diamond mine. A diamond mine would be a rare person who would not only have credits but also have a wealth of intelligence. This would allow us to save our mark by getting everything from one person. When we would need to the credits or information, we would sneak into their residence, and ambush them. According to our template, we were supposed to have what we needed in thirty seconds. That short timeframe would usually allow us to easily get away, and the person would usually be in enough denial that they wouldn’t report it. This was also a way to allow us independence allow us to strike anywhere we wished, without having to worry about too much logistics.” Crest put a small break to indicate the end of the explanation and then continued, “Anyway, back to my story. Shazack decided that we would use one of our diamond mines. The two of us entered easily, but, when we ambushed the guy, Shazack went...beyond what was necessary to prove that his information was correct. The incident probably wouldn’t have bothered me, but I had been... approached by... someone who had tried to convince me to put my talents to better use in the Vast Empire military. The diamond mine had confirmed that the shipment was actually a ruse to snare our group, showing that we had underground contacts. Shazack assigned me to find the breach in our intelligence, while he took everybody who could fight to take out ambush. I, being disturbed at the incident with Shazack, collapsed the tavern and ran away to take up that someone’s offer.”
Aieya sat there unmoving, amazed at the wealth of information. Finally finding her voice, she remarked, “Wow...we spent so much time wondering about this, and, all I have to do is ask you, and you tell me. Why did nobody just do this?”
“Maybe because I wasn’t there?”
Laughing, she replied, “Probably. Sometimes, I do such stupid stuff, like asking obvious questions.”
Remembering a time when he had tried to be act as a bounty hunter and been arrested for it, Crest remarked, “Don’t worry; you’re not alone.”
“So how did you start the bar fight back at the
Mongoose? I was kinda pre-occupied a bit before that and never saw how you did it.”
“A bar fight is the easiest thing in the world. Everybody is already out of their minds, so nobody really cares about why they fight. Back at the
Mongoose, I just threw one glass at the middle of your three guards, smashed a glass into the person next to me, and threw one across the bar to the other side.”
“Don’t most bartenders have a stun gun with them?”
“That’s why I slid over to the other side of the bar. Also, I knocked out the bartender in order to increase the time it lasted.”
“I think it’d be fun to be in one of those.”
“And you’re talking to someone who can create one of those.”
“And...” she hesitated, attempting to weigh the various consequences of her request.
“Come on...”
“Will you take me to one?”
“Consider it done.”
“Seriously? Just like that?”
“Yeah, seriously.”
“Sorry, I guess I’m just too used to Shazack. He made sure that everything had a counter-balance to it.”
“And sometimes that balance would be tipped in his favor?”
“Yeah, how do you... Sorry, I forgot who you are.”
“Who I was.”
“Oh, yeah, right. Sorry. But, seriously, are you going to create a bar fight just for me?”
“I already told you.”
--------------------
Day 14, 0700“Rise and shine, Crest,” called out Aieya from her side of the room.
Crest sleepily responded, “Did I ever tell how much not a morning person I am?”
“Oh, no, I would never have guessed. It isn’t like you’ve told me the exact same thing for every day we’ve been aboard this ship.”
Both of them laughed at their morning’s routine as Crest threw off the covers and slowly got to his feet.
“So, Crest do you know what’s special today? It’s day eight.”
“Wait, that means...”
“Yes, it means exactly that.”
“Finally this journey is over!” crowed Crest.
Laughing, Aieya replied, “We’d better get ready quick. The line’s only going to grow as people get ready and grow.”
Crest quickly used the various amenities that composed his morning’s routines. Walking over to his clothes, he mused aloud, “Hmm, what should I wear?”
“That armor,” came the unasked-for reply.
“The New Republic is going to be very happy to let in someone in full armor.”
Laughing, she replied, “Wear that long-sleeved black and grey outfit.”
“Fine,” replied Crest, obeying the wish even though he despised the formal clothing. As usual, he slipped the dagger into its sheath.
“Are you ready, Aieya?”
“Almost. Give me a second. Yeah, now I’m ready.”
“Then let’s go.”
--------------------
“ID, please, Ms. Viraa.”
“Here you go.”
“Thank you, you have been granted refugee status, under Act 9392.32, which allows people caught in the Imperial splinters to gain refugee status. NEXT!”
Aieya walked through the security checkpoint and turned around to watch Crest, who was walking up to the security checkpoint.
Crest sighed and walked up to the officer.
“Are you carrying weapons and/or contraband?”
“It’s enough to fill the Death Star fifteen times over. What do you think? I only have one suitcase, and even it is half empty.”
“Please, no more jokes and have a measure of seriousness. ID, please.”
Although being reminded of Gates and his repeated attempts to get a measure of seriousness, Crest kept a straight face and politely handed over the requested ID.
“You were a Coruscant citizen, therefore I must request that you submit your Coruscant ID.”
Fingering the old memento of his homeworld, “I was here only the old Imperial Reign, so that’s the only Coruscant ID I have.”
“You should have been issued a New Republic ID when you left.”
“Um...I was captured and attempted to be sold as a slave and ran away, so, no, I really didn’t have a chance to collect a New Republic ID.”
“Fine, your old Imperial ID will have to do.”
Crest took back his general ID, and handed over the old, ragged Imperial ID.
“Alright, it checks out. Here’s your New Republic Coruscant ID. Do you wish to keep your old Imperial ID?”
“Yeah, it does hold some sentimental value for me, so, yes, I would like to keep it.”
“Fine, here you go. You have been granted Coruscant citizen status under Act 504.74 which grants Coruscant citizenship status to all people who were here under the Imperial reign, barring active supporters to the Galactic Empire. NEXT!”
I really am going to have to come back much more often, now that I have citizen status. I love how the security is next to minimal here. Well, I guess at the capital, people must be safe. It’s always been that way.Walking up to him, Aieya inquired, “What took so long? The guy just asked me one question and for my ID and just let me through.”
“There were just some complications regarding my former citizenship status here.”
“You were a citizen here?”
“Yeah, I was born here.”
Suddenly, Crest’s attention was drawn away from Aieya’s response. There was an YT-2400 sitting in the next bay, the
Dreamer’s Demise.“Aieya,” interrupted Crest, “Do you mind finding us some place to stay? I need to do something.”
“Sure, what are you going to do?”
“Oh, just going to meet some old friends.”
--------------------
Crest kneeled, now fully armored in his
Katarn-class armor. He pulled out his DC-17, with the sniper attachment on as of now. Looking through the scope, he saw two men loading supplies into the YT-2400, including a certain box that looked as if it could contain a humanoid figure.
Waiting until both men were inside, loading their current boxes, Crest took off running and slid in behind cover just as one of them came back out. When man went back into the freighter, Crest took a short sprint to the suspicious box. He pulled out his D’skar dagger and carefully pried open the box.
A protocol droid lay inside. Crest carefully picked it up, and stashed it behind some cover. He then slipped into the box, knocking its cover back into place.
Now just to wait for them to get me inside.It was a long wait. Eventually Crest felt gravity shift as the box was lifted and moved into the freighter. A minute later, the box was set down. Crest wound up his leg and kicked the cover off. The two men, startled as if they had seen a ghost, froze up in surprise. Crest quickly came to his feet and, stepping back to see both men, aimed his DC-17 in the middle of the both of the men.
“How did you get in the blasted box!?!” yelled one of them
“It won’t matter soon enough. What does matter is how much pain you’re going to be in soon.”
“You making us be in pain? Not any time in soon.”
Crest calmly aimed the DC-17 and put a standard blaster round through both of their left knees. They shrieked in pain, falling to the ground while cradling their injured knees.
“You fools, you will today experience the pain that I experienced that I experienced when I ran away.”
“You... you ruined our business! We lost every contract we had at the time!”
“You’re still going to encounter pain that I felt when I had to run away, you fools. Now run!”
“But we’re wounded.”
Crest fired one round into each of their right arms, causing screams of pain.
“Does it look like I care? Run!”
The two men, obviously startled at Crest’s ferociousness, hesitated a second before running out of the YT-2400, with Crest at their heels.
“Into the restrooms over there,” Crest instructed.
The men shifted their course, fully aware of the penalty should they not do what was instructed of them.
As they entered, Crest remarked, “Into the vents.”
“But there’s a cover on it,” protested one of the men. Crest responded by firing a round at the feet. Both men jumped and then began various attempts to get the cover off before the mad man in armor hurt them again. Eventually they knocked free the cover and helped each other into the vents. Crest calmly climbed up onto a nearby counter and took a running leap at the vent, just as he had done when he had run away. His hand clamped onto it, and he pulled himself into the vents.
“Go that way.” Crest instructed, pointing down the vent.
The men sprinted down the hallway, with Crest lagging behind them. As they reached the end of the vent, a huge fan became visible. The two men sprinted up to it and then turned around, finding Crest to be standing about two meters away near a switch.
“Now what?” asked one of the men.
“I’ll ask the questions, if you don’t mind. This switch right here turns off the fan over there. Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll stop the fan and direct you towards a ship, an AA-9, which will take you somewhere. If you do not, you die here.”
“But what do you want to know?”
“When you captured me, Titan Godown, who was it that hired you?”
The two men exchanged a long look at each other. They were obviously men who prided themselves on their secrecy, and that was why they were so successful. After about two minutes, one of them nodded.
The other informed Crest, “It’s been a long time, but I think it was the Imperial Populace Resistance.”
Crest flicked the switch, turning the fan off.
“Follow me,” he instructed while going through the fan. Fifteen seconds later, the three of them stood on the edge of the vent, overlooking an AA-9.
“Alright, here’s what you have to do. You’re going to take a running leap out of the vent. Exactly nine meters down is a pair of handholds, used for routine inspections of the engines. Both of you will grab onto one of the handholds. Once you climb up onto the engines, there is a vertical maintenance shaft, which you two will take. Okay?”
The two men, looking less than thrilled at the plan, nodded their understanding. Both of them lined up and took running leaps at the handholds. Watching them grab the handholds, Crest took off the blaster attachment on his DC-17 and set the sniper attachment onto it. He carefully located the two in his scope and fired one shot at the one on the right. The man went tumbling down towards ground, about a mile below. The other man doubled his speed as he realized what was happening. Before he could make any progress, a shot hit him, sending him on a rapid journey to the ground.
“You killed them.”
Crest whirled around, aiming his DC-17 dead center of the figure behind him.
“How did you get here, Aieya?”
“It wasn’t that hard. It just took some time to get into the vents, but I eventually got in. Why did you do it though?”
“Later, Aieya,” Crest said, attempting to delay the explanation.
“No, now.”
“Later, Aieya, I promise. I truly promise.”
Hardly pleased, Aieya conceded, “I’ll hold you that.”
--------------------
Day 15, 0700Crest, fully armored in his
Katarn-class armor, treaded softly towards the sheet of flimsi. On it, he wrote three short sentences.
Gone mining. Will be back tonight. Stay safe.After laying it in a conspicuous place where Aieya would find it, Crest softly went out of the room. He proceeded down to the receptionist of the hotel. The receptionist, startled at first by the full set of armor and weapons, quickly turned around to face Crest.
“Is the airspeeder I called for yesterday here?”
Barely finding his voice, the receptionist responded, “Yes, sir. It is. If you will proceed out back, you’ll find the requested airspeeder there.”
“Thank you.”
Crest sharply turned and walked to the back entrance. Opening the door, he saw a ten-meter long and half-meter wide pier stretching out in front of him. On the very tip of the precarious pier, a black and blue airspeeder, driven by a human, lay in wait. Crest carefully, though quickly, walked out to airspeeder. Reaching it, he tapped once on the glass. The driver, without looking at the passenger, quickly opened the door.
“So, where are we goin’, sir?”
Taking out the scrap of paper, courtesy of Shazack, Crest responded, “Put me down at the
Fifteenth Hour Apartments.”
“Fine with me,” Before proceeding to take off, he turned around to give basic safety instructions, “Please, do not stick your han-Who the blasted frakking person are you!?! Don’t point that blaster at me!”
“Relax. If I’d wanted to kill you or hijack this airspeeder, I would have done it when I got in. These armor and weapons aren’t for you. Just take me to where I want to go, and we’ll be just fine. Furthermore, remember I’m paying you.”
The driver, clearly startled, quickly turned around and pushed the airspeeder off the pier and into the columns of traffic. He was obviously pushing the airspeeder to the edge of its performance in order to get the armored figure off his airspeeder. After a number of confusing turns and weaving through traffic, the driver set the airspeeder down in front of a high-rise building that was advertising high-end apartments.
“Here you are, sir.”
Handing the driver a generous tip in credits, Crest responded, “Thank you.”
Crest quickly stepped out of the airspeeder. As soon as Crest was off, the driver suddenly took off, eager to be out of range of the armored figure. Shaking his head, Crest reviewed the exact location written on the scrap of paper. It said the diamond mine was on fiftieth floor, the floor being one apartment. There was nothing else to do, so Crest quickly found an elevator and took it up to the fiftieth floor. Although it took about half a minute to get up to the floor, Crest reveled in the glory of being so high above the ground, a dream every low born Coruscanti has.
As the elevator informed Crest that he had just passed the forty-fifth floor, Crest took up a position that flanked the elevator’s door. The elevator quietly hummed to a stop and opened the door. Crest, employing the standard breaching tactic, entered the room. The room was devoid of any life forms. Crest then proceeded towards the next room. He heard someone yelling at something.
“-n’t care what he said! He is a lazy Trandoshan who needs to be taught a lesson! ...Then, why am I paying for the blasters!?! If he doesn’t want to go, just shoot him! I don’t need any breaches in security! ...yes, fine, you can do that.”
Crest took up a position on the door. He heard the quiet click of the comlink’s connection being closed. He kicked the door open and entered the room.
“Blasted mercenaries, they don’t even do a job hal-What do you want!?!”
Consulting the scrap of paper for the name, Crest responded, “Mr. ... Voik is it not? Anyways I need information on the Imperial Populace Resistance.”
“What do you want with the Imperial Populace Resistance?” he asked cautiously.
“Oh, nothing too much, maybe just blast them into orbit.”
“Who are you?”
“I thought I was the one asking the questions? Anyways, my name doesn’t matter; what does matter is whatever information you have on them.”
“Would you averse to having help? I know another group who hates them.”
“No, not particularly. Who are they?”
“Coonter’s Men is the name they go by. They’re a group of mercenaries, who in addition to taking true mercenary jobs also hate the IPR, much better than Shazack’s group, if I may add.”
Suspicions aroused, Crest asked, “How do you know Shazack?”
