This feather continued on its path through the wind up, up through the barriers of civilization on Coruscant, past the bright lights of business and home and cantina life. Further up and past the tallest points of the tallest towers until finally the atmosphere was left behind and nothing but the starry void of space stood between Marka and his target. Everything was black and white for a time until the blue of hyperspace travel surrounded the ship. Emma, satisfied that she had done all she could to ensure a safe flight, spun around in her pilots seat and jumped to her feet. The ship was steady, calm, not a sound louder than a whisper could be heard. An occasional swish as Marka's blade cut through the air, a random beep from a console and the hum of the hyperdrive were the loudest things that could be heard. As Emma crept towards the recreation room, more sounds reached her ears. A footstep, a soft slapping sound as bare foot hit metal. A sudden and surprising whoosh echoed throughout the ship as the door to the rec room slid open, and there stood Marka in the doorway, donning only long black pants. In his right hand was his sword, his weapon, his favourite way to end the life of another. A thin, shimmering layer of sweat covered Marka's chest, and his hair was even more messy than usual. His breathing was ragged and fast, a sign of his gruelling personal training.

"Hello, this is your captain speaking," Emma said in a playful tone, "we have just entered hyperspace, which you may have noticed from the big blue stuff outside your window." Chuckling, Marka ushered her inside.

"So, how long 'til we get there?" the assassin asked as Emma stepped inside.

"Oh, it shouldn't be long. Oh, could you put a shirt on, you are scaring everyone away." She grinned as she said this, and sat down on the lounge.

"So why haven't you run away yet?" Marka asked, slowly making his way towards her. She shifted, and sat more upright as he got closer. Soon, they were almost nose to nose, with his hands gripping the lounge on either side of her head. No words were exchanged though, just a long look. Emma's breathing became slightly more rapid and she leaned her head forwards subtly. As their lips came together nothing else mattered to either of them. All the love Marka could conjure was put into the kiss. His right hand left the lounge and rested on her left cheek. They broke apart, and he caressed the smooth skin of her cheek. She smiled, her eyes sparkling under the lights of the rec room. They leant in once more, but were interrupted.

"Mistress, we should be arriving shortly." It was Emma's droid to the rescue. It seemed whenever the two got close, something would stop them. Previously it had been a space fight, time would run out, or they would be shot at. This time it was the droid.

"I should get back to the cockpit... The droid has never been good with landings." She chuckled slightly and wriggled out from under Marka. He watched her stride to the door but hesitate before leaving. She looked back over her shoulder briefly and gave a small smile, then left.

Marka sighed, "Not again."

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

The swamp seemed fairly evil as the Florian ship made its approach. It was dark, and gangly trees stood like towering watchmen, keeping the swamp in check. A small gap presented itself in the forest and would make for an adequate landing spot. The ship came down rather fast until it was roughly 15 metres from the ground. There it slowed almost to a complete halt, and turned slightly. Before long the ship's landing gears were in place and they connected with the swamp floor. The ship sunk slightly as the soft, damp grass gave way to the cold, hard steel. The native animals flew and scurried away from the ship, running past trees, flying overhead or even burrowing.

"We're here, Marka!" Emma called out through the ship. She got up from the pilot seat and made her way to the exit ramp. Marka was already there in his Shadow suit, helmet under his arm, sword sheathed in his side scabbard and his Subsonic Slugthrower rifle over his back. The two looked at each other. They both knew this would be a difficult mission. There was every possibility that Marka would die before he had a chance to assassinate his target. He had to make his way through the city, avoid the authorities, make his way through the so called 'palace', where the Hutt resided, all whilst avoiding his personal guard. It was going to be tough.

"I am coming back, Emma. Just make sure you are here when I call" Marka said softly. Tears began to build on the edge of Emma's eyes. She hung her head and looked at the floor, to hide the fact that she was about to cry, that she was worried. Marka brought his hand to her chin, and brought her face up slowly. Her dark brown eyes returned his gaze, then, after giving her one last kiss, left down the ramp and was swallowed by the darkness.

-----------------------
Private First Class Marka
Fire Team Leader
- Raider Squad -
FTC/PFC Marka/3SQD/1PLT/1COMP/1BAT/Tadath/VEA/VE
[LoR][ES2C]

"Duct tape is like the Force. It has a light side and a dark side, and it holds the universe together"

It was obvious that Gypill the Hutt cared very little for the people outside of the Inner Wall. There were sick people, dying people, laying helpless and crying on the street, crying out for the help that would never come. Help that could not be spared when others went through the same thing; help they could only afford to use on themselves. Was that greed? Or was it wisdom? Or both? It could be either of them, from different points of view. While a sick man dies, does one help, sacrificing ones own health and well being, or does one leave him to his fate so that one may live better? In this case, Marka's case, it was the latter. Not because he needed to make his life better, but because these people were weak. They could not make a life for themselves, therefore they were weak, and killing them would only keep them from really learning their lesson.

As daylight crept over the hills and through the murky swamp, and the golden rays of the sun illuminated even the darkest of corners, Marka realised that slinking through a city in armour during the day would be rather unwise. He needed some form of clothing that would have him mistaken as a creature of poverty, but also enough that covered his armour. The nearest house seemed to have a back door, of sorts. The house was made of earth, and the automatic door that was the back door was jammed in place, leaving a small gap at the bottom. Off he went, as fast as he could without falling flat on his face. The door was close, and forced Marka to go prone to get under. Nevertheless, in only a few seconds he was inside, and away from the prying eyes of the poor and needy. Immediately a smell of death wafted through the hallways and rooms to the back, where Marka sat silently. It was a smell of rotting flesh, of the affect time has on a corpse. As the end of the hallway drew nearer the smell grew horrific. He didn't really like wearing the helmet of the shadow suit, but he forced himself to have it on, knowing if he didn't the smell would surely make him sick. What came next was more awful than Marka first anticipated.

A form of human, on the outside at least, sat in a room surrounded by the dead, feasting on the flesh. His eyes were black holes, circled by a yellow ring, bloodshot and red. They were wide open, though, and showed clearly the madness within and without. Down, past the eyes and a crooked nose was a mouth of sharp blade-like teeth, engulfed in blood, both dry and new. There had to be at least five dead bodies. One, the one that was in the process of being consumed, and four scattered at the feet of the table, bled dry and white. The beast tore the flesh off the bone with an ease that was too disturbing for words. Even worse was when the victims eyes opened once, widened at the sight of Marka, then changed. They didn't move, they didn't get and wider or any less, but they changed. At least he was dead now.
    The creature peered up through those beady eyes, focusing on Marka. It rose slowly from its seat, hunching over and to its right as it limped forwards. As if curious, it would tilt its head quickly, but only very slightly, and continued its slow hobble. The assassin brought a steady hand to the hilt of his blade and gripped it tightly. Strange noises, easily mistaken for someone choking, now came from the creature. It was as if it was trying to communicate. Screw that, it's dying... right now. The steel of the sword brushed and clanked softly against the sides of the scabbard as Marka took it from its resting place. It still had blood on the edge from when he used it to remove the head of that squirming purple Twi'lek in the swamp. As soon as the blade was out, however, the beast discarded the helpless, wild persona for a more civilised one. Its hunch was gone, as was the limp. It now stood at its full height, one larger than that of Marka and it spoke with a voice that should have been coming from a noble.

"Why must you draw your sword, sir? I mean you no harm" it said, taking small, almost insignificant steps towards the assassin.

Marka looked at the devoured and chewed remains littering the floor, then back to the creature, "Why don't I believe you? Oh, I know, maybe it is because of the PEOPLE you have EATEN!"

"You assume I do this out of choice? Dear oh dear no. I am doing this because I have little other choice. I have been banished, you see. I was the head tech specialist for Gypill the Hutt, once... long ago. He wanted me to breed these beasts, ones that resemble my own appearance as you see me now. He wanted to use them as guards and take over from those damned pigs... vile creatures they are. Anyway, where was I?"

"Breeding"

"Ah yes, very attentive of you. Anyway, I created these things for Gypill, and they were perfect," he grinned, this time showing only well kept, white teeth, "so perfect; perhaps too perfect. See, they were made to be shape shifters, so they would stand guard as pleasant people. However, when trouble would come, whether it an attack or the like, they would change, into what you saw me as before. Now, don't get me wrong, I am not one of them. Not entirely. I tested the shape shifting on myself, so I could really know how these things were working. I can change between the two forms at any moment I want. Something went wrong though."

"Something always goes wrong."

"Yes, well, they couldn't morph between the two properly. Their first test was to guard against an attack on the palace that we had heard of. They did their job well. Whoever was attacking was in pieces within seconds of his attempt. The problem was that they could not turn back. Instead they spread throughout the city." He had begun taking larger steps toward Marka now, feeling braver.

"So, where are they now?" the assassin asked, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. If they spread throughout the city, where are they now? Unless he is actually one of them...

The man grinned, "Try behind you."

Marka spun immediately, bringing his sword high above his head. There were three of them, squashed in together. Their scabby blackened skin showed signs of twisted mutation and battle scars. The closest of the three, a massively tall man, had hanging from his ripped body the shredded remains of a shirt, blood stained and damp. His expression was that of feral bloodlust. The scarred and cracked skin of his chest heaved as he panted heavily. Surprisingly, they didn't attack. They stood their ground, long-fingered hands and worn knuckles resting at their sides. Drooling mouths opened and closed as their hybrid lungs gasped for air.

"They won't attack you," the man said calmly, "not unless I tell them to."

There was a brief pause as Marka realised that they wanted him alive. "What do you want from me?"

"We need you to kill Gypill. We would do it, gladly and easily, however these charming fellows cannot control their rage when they enter the Inner City, so we would be caught before we got to the palace. That is why we need you. I can't go in with you either, as anyone would surely recognise me, but I can give you a selection of entrances."

The two looked at each other, Marka debating on whether or not to accept the offer or just kill them all, and the beast man was wondering whether or not Marka would be able to do the job.

"Just show me the way in" the assassin said.

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

As the assassin and his newly personified colleagues marched through the Outer City, to Marka's surprise, not a soul in the streets seemed to notice him. It wasn't as if he was easy to miss either. A suit of black armour contrasted against the ripped cloth wrappings and filth of the poor, yet still no one seemed to care. Life went about as it usually did. The hungry and sick strived for food and medicine, never finding them, though always hoping.
    It wasn't long before the great spires came within reach, and the gate to the Inner City was at its full size. From there, though, the group went left along the bottom of the wall, circling the Inner City from the outside. Not long after the turn to the left, the main beast man, who Marka had now come to know as Kennin, began running his right hand along the wall. Small showers of dust an earth crumbled to the ground, littering the weeds and plants at the base in an ochre blanket.

"Why are you doing that?" the assassin asked.

"What? This?" replied Kennin, motioning to his hand against the wall, "Oh, you will see."

He was right. Marka did see it. Shortly after he had said that, a section of the wall wobbled. It wasn't too big, about hand sized. It had been dislodged from the surrounding earth, and Kennin removed it from the wall. Beyond the dark hole was a mixture of coloured lights. He put his hand in through the hole, bumping his forearm on the roof and sides. It seemed a tight fit. Marka couldn't see which button he pressed, but it was obviously the correct one. Behind them, down the hill, over the Outer Wall and into the swamp, a rock face moved, shifted to create an opening. One of the other cross-breeds pointed it out, noticing it from a difference. After replacing the brick of clay, the group sped towards the Outer Wall.

Between pants, Kennin's light voice reached Marka's ears, "It is timed...the door... so," more deep breaths followed, "we have to get there... very quickly."

The wall flew towards them as they sprinted. Its height grew and grew, and the detailed carvings became clearer. But no attention was spared on the work of artists, only on the opening gate. The people were crowded in the streets as a noble's transport crawled its way through the mud and sickness. Marka's body began to really heat up, his calves and hamstrings screaming out at him to stop, but he couldn't. Not if he wanted to get inside and cut down Gypill to fulfil his mission, and the favour.

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

The cave was purely black at first. There was plenty of moisture in the air, and a grassy floor squelched as the dew was crushed beneath an armoured boot. The gradual descent began, and with each passing metre, more light shimmered of the ground and wet walls. The path would become randomly steeper or more levelled, weaving or staying straight until finally it opened up into a massive room. An enormous crystal formation sat glowing in the centre. Marka looked up and could not see where the rock stopped. How deep underground am I? he wondered, peering about the room.

WACK!

It had come out of nowhere; another of the creatures, this one more mad and tormented than the rest. Its claws had ripped a hole in the side of the helmet of the shadow suit. After removing what was left of it, the young man slid his blade out, waiting for another attack. Each turn of his head saw his braids twirl and curve in the air. Piles of bones and flesh that had not been seen before, presented themselves in each corner of the square room. This thing had been here a long time; and it had the home-field advantage. It would know every nook and cranny, all of the odds and ends, and would utilise them to gain any other advantage it could. This would be one hell of a fight.

 
-----------------------
Private First Class Marka
Fire Team Leader
- Raider Squad -
FTC/PFC Marka/3SQD/1PLT/1COMP/1BAT/Tadath/VEA/VE
[LoR][ES2C]

"Duct tape is like the Force. It has a light side and a dark side, and it holds the universe together"