Contract Bureau Offices, Arcona Citadel,
Selen, Dajorra System, Unknown Regions
The Knight walked swiftly from the office, Snabbie a few paces behind him. They traveled through the maze-like corridors of the Citadel of Arcona. They had just made a right turn when the Protector’s curiosity overwhelmed him. “So, how are we going to tackle this problem?”
The Assassin chuckled lightly. His apprentice never ceased to amuse him; he often wondered if he had appeared this way to Sashar. “Just watch and learn, Snabbs.”
“But don’t we have to find out where our targe--”
Celevon immediately interrupted, correcting his apprentice. “Deader. Our deader,” the Galerian explained, hearing the voice of his own deceased Master over his own from what seemed so long ago.
“Deader, then. Don’t we have to search to find out where our deader is?” Snabbie asked, indignant annoyance clouding his tone.
“No, we don’t. But that’ll be the easy part, Snabbie,” the Sniper replied, grinning inwardly. Celevon knew what was coming, and, as though cued...
“How is that the easy part?”
The Assassin smirked, before using the tone of voice that had so irritated him when he was an Apprentice. “It’s easy if you know where to look.” The Onderonian said, being purposely vague.
The Fight Pilot glared silently as the duo walked towards the Citadel’s Hangar Bay. From there, it was a short shuttle ride. Celevon didn’t want his Apprentice to be breathing heavily when they closed the eight kilometer trek to Estle City.
Snabbie sighed, glancing at the entrance to the pub once more. Not long after the shuttle ride, the Knight had ordered the Protector to wait where he was until the older man returned. The Koros Majorian straightened his shirt uneasily, as several of the more shady-looking regulars kept glancing in his direction.
In the short amount of time that the man had been his mentor, Snabbie had become deadly with his chosen martial art. The Protector frowned into his drink, lost in his thoughts. While he was more than skilled enough to handle a sword, the Onderonian had refused to let his Apprentice carry a sword until Snabbie started learning a formal style. No matter how much the Qel-Droman had pleaded and attempted to persuade the Assassin, the silver-eyed man had not budged in the slightest. Not even truthfully telling his Master that he felt naked without a weapon had changed the fact.
“Your body is a weapon, Snabbie. When you come to realize that and use it as such, the sky is the limit to what you can do,” was all the man had said before making sure the Protector knew the subject had been dropped.
A loud thud and several indignant shouts pulled the Koros Majorian from his reverie. The Galerian had a man up against the wall, Celevon’s forearm pinning the man to the wall by the throat. Snabbie saw a glimmer and realized that one of the Sniper’s daggers was within the man’s grasp. It took another moment before the Protector realized that it was one of the shady figures who had been glancing at him since he entered the pub. The Swooper visibly paled from whatever the Assassin had hissed at him.
Celevon turned and smiled at Snabbie as though nothing had just occurred while the burly Racer exited the pub as quickly as his legs could carry him. “I see you’ve been making friends, kiddo.”
The Protector glared in response to the smirk. “I could’ve handled him,” Snabbie muttered rebelliously.
The Knight rolled his eyes. “That guy was within feet of you with a syringe in his hand. Had I not interfered, he would’ve injected it, claimed you had too much to drink and whisked you away. Then he and his gang of buddies would’ve had their way with you or something more deadly,” Celevon tilted his head, indicating the group of swoopers who were clearly less than happy at the moment. “You can let your guard down when you’re back in your own quarters.”
“Understood,” the Void Pilot responded, pushing aside the thoughts of what that group would have possibly done to him. “So, did you find out anything?” Snabbie queried, ignoring the fact that the Onderonian was expertly twirling a dagger in his hand. It had ceased to be intimidating after the third day.
“Oh, I definitely found something. It’s a decent lead, but I don’t know how reliable it is. Supposedly, our Deader is ducked down in a cottage on the other side of town. I want you to go check it out, Snabbie. Just in case you think you’ll run into trouble, there’s a package in the alley behind this pub. Contact me on my comlink when you’re done.”
Walking out of the alley again with the package in his hands Snabbie realized Celevon was gone. Knowing that his master could very well care for himself, he did not worry about it and set course towards the other end of the city.
While walking Snabbie carefully unwrapped the package. Before he could finish it he sees glare of sunlight reflecting on something metal like. Quickly ripping the remaining paper of the object the Protector revealed a shining sword. Wondering what changed the mind of the Dark Jedi, the Qel-Droman sheathed the weapon and hung it on his belt. Feeling that he could take on the world Snabbie quickened his pace, eager to test his newly acquired weapon.
Entering the outskirts of the city, the Protector became more suspicious than ever of every pedestrian walking near him. Left and right of him were shabby houses with grim looking people sitting in or in front. Expecting that any one of them could attack him, he laid his hand on his sword and carefully carried on. The Qel-Droman had know idea which cottage the deader was supposed to be in. Snabbie kept walking, telling himself that we would notice something when he was at the right spot.
Approaching the end of the city, Snabbie became more desperate by the minute. Already thinking of how he could explain this failure to his master he turned around and started to return to the center of the city. Not even done ten steps steps, he saw a two men looking around them and then quickly entering a narrow alley. Wondering for a minute what he would do, the Qel-Droman realized that he had no other lead and that he had nothing to lose, he followed them into the alley.
Entering the alley Snabbie realized that it was a dead end and that the two men were nowhere to be seen. Confused and angered the Koros Majorian picked up a small rock from the floor and threw it at the wall, just for abreaction. To his suprise the stone didn't smack into the wall, but instead it went right through it. Surprised, he walked further down the alley until he was just centimeters away from the wall. Then he stretched out his hand and tried to touch the wall, but it also went through it. Realizing that it was some kind of force field, Snabbie carefully stepped through the field, ready to attack anything that was standing on the other side.
As soon as he stepped through he saw he was in a small room with a door a door on the other side. Next to the door was a sentry robot. Though it looked inactive, Snabbie did not believe it would stay that way for long. As he stepped forward the robot started to move. Not waiting on further actions from the bot, the protector quickly sprinted towards the other end of the room and brought his fists down upon the bots body with his strength increased by the force. The hull cracked under his fists, but the robot still continued to move. Remembering his new weapon, the Qel-Droman grabbed his sword and drove it through the cracks in the hull all the way through the body of the robot. Giving one more distorted “beep” the robot stopped moving and fell silent again.
Pulling his sword out of the robot, Snabbie turned his attention to the door. Listening closely if he heard any sound coming from the other sounds, the Koros Majorian waited until he was sure there was no one coming from the other side.
Snabbie, trying to open the door, noticed that it wasn’t locked and the door opened towards him. In the room he then entered was a bit bigger then the last one. Inside were a few bookcases and a desk. Behind a desk was a woman he immediately recognised as the deader. Behind the women were the two men he saw walking into the alley earlier. Looking up from her desk, the woman said: “You did nice work with my robot. You are quite strong to deal with it that quick. Now what do you want from me?”. “I’m here to kill you” the protector said with an evil smile. “You shouldn’t stick that nose of yours in affairs that are not meant for you.”.
Not waiting for a response of the women, he walked forward and drew his sword. On the other side the room the women drew a blaster, and the men behind her grabbed daggers. Quicker than he expected Zenra fired her blaster at him. Through the force he still was able to dodge the attack, although the energy bolt passed only millimeters away from his chest. Reprimanding himself for making the mistake of underestimating an opponent he used his force powers to pull the blaster from the hands of the deader and catching it in his left hand. He fired at the leftmost guard, who was unable to evade the bullet and fell dead on the floor. Dropping the blaster again, he ran to the other guard and with a quick slash of his sword he decapitated the man.
This all happens in a matter of seconds, and by the time Zenra was recovered from having her weapon pulled out of her hand, her two guards were dead and her attacker was standing before her with an evil look on his face. While the attacker was slowly walking closer to her, all light seemed to fade from the room until the last she could see were his yellow eyes in the darkness.
“Any last words?” The Protector queried as though he hadn’t a care in the world.
“Who are you?”
“The end of your life” the protector answered. Then Snabbie stabbed his sword through the throat of the women, and waited until she stop wriggling.
Grabbing his sword and cleaning it on one of the dead guards clothes he walked out of the hideout and activated his comlink. “It’s done,” the Koros Majorian said.
“So the intel was good, then?” The voice of the Assassin asked curiously.
“Yes, it was very good, despite the fact that there are dozens of cottages on this side of town.”
“You seemed to find it easy enough. Besides, this was a test of your abilities. Not mine. You did good, kiddo.” Snabbie swore as he spun on the spot. The Knight had spoken from directly behind him. Before the Qel-Droman could retort or mutter a comment, Celevon spoke up. “Call Marick and tell him the job is done. You really need to stop being so twitchy.”
The Fighter Pilot merely glared in response.