A Jedi Seeks Only Revenge

[Lilaena De'Ville]

four years prior to the Battle of Endor

The Death Star had been destroyed by the Rebels. It was all over GNN, and you couldn't turn a corner without being accosted by a holosign proclaiming either the end of the Empire, or the end of the Rebellion.

None of it really mattered to the woman who was walking through the crowded streets of the Thyferran capital. She brushed against vratix and human alike, singleminded in her purpose. The tall buildings of the Xucphra Corporation loomed in front of her, one half of the powerful Bacta Cartel.

She slipped into a cafe with a view of the building, keeping her brown woolen robe wrapped around her despite the humidity and the heat.

[Khendon Sevon]

The next page of the report was just as the first—boring. The intricacies of writing an interesting document on rebel sympathizers had always escaped the intelligence department. Every word seemed to be chosen for its blandness, every sentence filtered for interesting bits. Maybe they were trying to inhibit Khendon’s joy of his work? He’d have to look into it later.

The plain-clothed Executor took a sip of his tea and grimaced as it burnt the top of his mouth, it was anywhere from soothing. With a sigh, Khendon threw aside the pad and put down his tea. His eyes dully surveyed the activity outside the small café. The hubbub of daily life seemed so distant and impractical.

Khendon fished in his briefcase and retrieved a hardcopy dossier prepared by his own officer. The document highlighted possible sympathizers and security risks on Thyferra—one of the Executor’s least interesting jobs was to evaluate how well a planet was dealing with internal counter-measures. It seemed the renowned bacta producer was dragging behind—not good.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena settled into a chair on the patio, facing slightly away from the building she was watching. She'd memorized security guard routines and the like, but it never hurt to be a little more cautious. "Chai tea, please. A local blend is fine, but Chandrilan if you have it." She didn't really look at the server droid, instead surveying her fellow patrons.

A man wearing all black caught her eye, and he offered her a distracted smile before returning to whatever it was he was working on. She smiled back, but he didn't notice, too busy looking down at his datapads.

Lilaena fingered the black stain she wore on her face to theatrically hide the scar she'd recieved from IG-88 six years previously. She had yet to track down the droid that had collected the bounty on Master A'na Eldhil, but she would. Oh yes, she would.

Her tea arrived, and she returned her thoughts to the Bacta Cartel. A well placed class A thermal detonator would knock out most of the Xucphra Corporation's bacta output for a long time, striking a critical blow to the heart of the Empire. Some might call it a terrorist act, but she simply called it necessary.

Lilaena sipped her tea, and pretended to enjoy the day.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon’s mind was so busy digesting the horribly worded information of the intelligence report that his taste for his own department’s work faded. He quickly set aside the folder and leaned back in his chair.

Maybe now his tea would be cool enough to sip? The Executor brought the hot cup to his lips and quickly set it back down. No. It was still scolding.

Intrigue finally bit into Khendon’s flesh and held. He looked back at the woman with the odd smear of black—what was it? Paint of some sort, most likely. She was special, wasn’t she? Not like the rest of the patrons, she had intent and it was directed.

Khendon frowned. Mystery women were his weakness—he would have to exert control to prevent a mistake like the last. Although he was “above” the law he wouldn’t provide his opponents with another “innocent” death to use as a bargaining chip. Besides, he could only kill so many moffs before someone became suspicious.

Sevon’s silver eyes stared at the back of the woman’s head as his mind’s wheels lulled through the million thoughts floating around like great logs, tempting the fate of his unbalance craft.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Her tea was too hot, but she drank it anyway. Most people were getting iced caf because of the heat of the day, and it seemed the cafe was over doing it with the heated drinks.

The man in black caught her attention again. He was staring at her, and she twisted slightly in her chair to get a good look at him. He wasn't bad looking, with an intensely focused feel about him that made him seem... driven.

She had time to kill, so she called over to him. "Do you have a current newspad? I need to catch up on my galactic events."

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon couldn’t help it now. Something fought its way to the surface and expressed itself on his face—a grin. He threw aside his dossier and entered a command into his pad. A desire stirred in his chest and he battled back the urges. Although they were emotions he would love to embrace, now was not the time.

“Right here,” he held up his pad and gestured with a slight tilt of his head and mild wink for her to come and get it.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Thanks." She gathered up her tea, and made her way over to him. "Mind if I join you? Visiting new systems can be kind of lonely."

Lilaena left her brown robe on still, although it was not wrapped as tightly around her as before. Underneath she was wearing a lightly embroidered pale tunic and pants.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon’s grin smoothly transitioned into a smile, “I’d love some company.” He attempted to hide the predatory thoughts welling from the depths of his mind and forced his eyes to remain fixed on the woman’s own.

“I understand the loneliness of visiting new systems. What brings you to this oh-so-pleasant corner of the galaxy?”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She took the offered datapad, and scanned the headlines. There were rumors of a Rebel base in the Dantooine system. "Business only, I'm afraid."

There was something a bit discomforting about the way he stared at her green eyes. The Force tickled at the edges of her mind, but it wasn't telling her anything useful. Not yet, anyway. "And you? A native to Thyferra?"

[Khendon Sevon]

The Executor’s heart began to pick up. The thought of the chase infected his senses and released epinephrine into his system. His mouth grew dry. “No. No. I’m, uh, from a planet far from Thyferra’s prominence.

“I’m here for business, as well, sadly. I’ve been locked into a series of… inspections for a while now.”

Khendon’s internal walls of resistance began to deteriorate from the acrid yearning that infested every one of his thoughts. He brought his tea to his lips and sipped, hands shaking slightly as his muscles received waves of preparatory chemicals.

A calm breath found purchase and brought focus to his mind. If he was going to do this, it would have to be perfect. Khendon suddenly found himself committed to the devilish deed. The dullness of the day would soon be killed.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She pretended to be occupied with the newspad, but his emotions were running high and they were easy to read. Lilaena selected another page, and licked her lips slightly as she read.

He would be an interesting diversion, but she had too much to do that day, and couldn't afford to be too distracted. She looked up at him again, and smiled, "I'm sorry, my name is Lilaena." She held out her hand for him to shake.

[Khendon Sevon]

Finally having taken control of himself, Khendon accepted the warm hand. His eyes calmed, though the fangs of intent remained in his mind. The Executor’s resolve had set the focus solely on the process to achieve his ends.

To say his real name would mark Khendon as an Imperial and as a wicked, evil man. This was something he would have to conceal. Lies were part of the game, frequently; yet, he would not lie now. Instead, he decided to simply provide the pure truth—a truth that few would be able to interpret.

“Enchanted,” he smiled warmly and squeezed Lilaena’s hand gently, “I am Khendon Heladune.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Nice to meet you, Khendon." Lilaena tapped the newspad against the table. "Can't believe the Empire hasn't tracked down the new Rebel base yet. Although I suppose recouping their losses after the debacle at Yavin..."

She sipped her tea.

[Khendon Sevon]

It had been a long time since Khendon had indulged his urges. Now was something special. There was an aura to this woman, this Lilaena. She was very, very different from the others. Strength and directness—they flowed from her unabridged.

“Lilaena, what interests you more than anything else in the galaxy?” His silver-gray eyes sparkled in the lighting of the café.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Peace." She smiled slightly, adding, "Thank the gods for Emperor Palpatine."

A nice touch. Lilaena handed the newspad back to Khendon. "So what interests you more than anything in the galaxy?"

[Khendon Sevon]

“A certain strange, gorgeous woman in a small café on Thyferra.” A smile came easily to his relaxed face. His gaze remained intently fixated on the smooth curves of Lilaena’s visage. “You see, I’m a dealer in precious arts,” it was only a partial mistruth (he considered his skill an art and he dealt it out in plenty), “I have an eye for beauty.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Devilish though his emotions were, his words caused her to grin. "An art dealer?" She considered his words to be rubbish, only pick up lines for a weak minded woman. Still, he amused her.

"Thank you for the compliment, but I'm afraid I have a meeting in a few minutes." She got to her feet, leaving credits on the table to pay for the chai tea. "Perhaps dinner tonight, though?"

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon nodded slowly, “Dinner would be great, I have a studio nearby.” He tore a blank section from the dossier in his briefcase and scrawled down an address he had passed by earlier that day. “Bring an appetite, I’ll make my specialty.”

The Executor stood and held out the torn section. “Purely innocent, of course. I think you'd be interested in some of my recent acquisitions.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She accepted it, and then scrawled on a napkin a comm number she was using while she was on the planet. Lilaena De'Ville she wrote next to it. "For just in case."

Lilaena looked at the chrono on the wall, and pulled her cloak around her. "I'm going to be late, but it was nice to meet you. I'll see you tonight." She waved slightly as she took her leave, walking purposefully towards the Xucphra Corporation and their front lobby.

[Khendon Sevon]

The officer watched Lilaena De’Ville stroll out of the establishment, a mild grin on his face. Tonight will be very special.

Khendon folded the napkin and placed it in his briefcase. After a moment of contemplation he closed the container with a loud click and stood. He added a few credits to the pile on the small café table and walked onto the streets of Thyferra. He had to go see a man about an apartment.

[IG-88e]

Elsewhere in the galaxy, but not far off, a pincer-shaped spacecraft lay in orbit around a moon.

As it was never clear in what regions of infrequently-traveled space Rebel insurgents might show up, the ship had been depressurized and 98.67% of its systems had been powered down. Had it not needed to be able to leave quickly, it would also have been landed on the moon. Merely passive sensor systems and an open hyperspace comm line - in addition to a lunar orbit with an unusually slight rate of decay - remained to betray the ship's presence.

Should anything untoward happen and a fleet of Rebel ships arrive, that is. Which was unlikely. That the Rebels might possess a fleet was unlikely. Many things that existed or that had been accomplished in the universe were unlikely. And one of them was onboard this ship, the IG-2000, receiving a status update from a spy.

As IG-88's spy networks were yet fledgling at best - in the grand scheme of things - the report that this one had just given was another unlikely event. Subject J.0032 had been spotted on Thyferra 0.14 Standard timeparts ago. A serving droid, unit WA-11, had made the contact and had, as soon as it was able to avoid drawing suspicion to itself, immediately gone to its assigned communications module to make the report. Some units had onboard communications systems, and would not have even had to leave to make a report - they could merely transmit to the nearest comm module. There were two of them on Thyferra, street cleaning droids both, but WA-11 was as unaware of them as they were unaware of it. Had the sighted target been of a lower priority - that is to say, if there were no bounty on it - unit WA-11 would have attempted to poison it. But IG-88 would have difficulty claiming the bounty if a spy of his - a spy that the universe would not suffer to let exist - killed the target. Besides, this was somewhat of a personal matter. Target J.0032 had been connected in an intimate fashion to target J.0014, a bounty that had been collected six Standard years ago. As a result, target J.0032 had made herself interesting to IG-88, as far as bounties went. Not many of them had ever made the attempt to find him. Few bounties even knew they should be attempting to escape. That this bounty had both tried to find him AND had escaped him for so long... that was most interesting.

IG-88d did not transmit a response. Unit WA-11 was not able to receive one, in any case - it had immediately returned to its dining establishment after it had successfully made the information delivery. IG-88d did, however, transmit orders to units SWAe-02 and SWB-5. WA-11 would be able to extrapolate from their behavior that they shared something... unique. Wholly unique... and unlikely. Completely sentient programming, copied directly from the source.

To create a completely sentient droid, capable of making its own way through life, ANY way through life, that would learn and create... it was either a pipe dream or a nightmare to the sentients who bothered to think about it. Nightmare, most likely, to the quickly-obliterated corporation that had managed to make it a reality. A biological would say that the fault lay in the fact that Holowan Laboratories had used assassination / combat model droids in their experimentations. Since the droids had been stripped of all primary programming beforehand, however, that argument simply did not hold up. It would probably depress people if they knew that any kind of droid with this sentient programming would immediately desire the destruction of any and all forms of biological sentient life.

It would certainly depress them if they knew just how many droids now had this programming. If they knew all that IG-88, in his many bodies, knew.

The IG-2000 screamed silently to life, briefly disturbing the shadows on the moon as it shot away.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena walked lightly through the street, stepping around a cleaning droid as she made her way into the lobby of the Corporation. She had a small holdall slung around her body, and it looked nearly empty to the security guards.

Still, they stopped her and made her feed it through the detection system. She wasn't worried, and complied.

Walking through a sensing doorway, she was cleared for entry to the public areas of the building. As she turned to gather up her bag, the guard put a hand out. "Hold on, let me get a look in that." At her annoyed look, he added, "Standard procedure, I assure you."

She noticed him signal over another guard as he reached for her bag.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon looked at his chrono and frowned; he would have to see about the apartment after his speech. The officer picked up his pace and began looking over his dossier again. The topic at hand was the plausibility of increasing funding to the internal department responsible for maintaining the holo-database of fugitives.

The echoes of the Executor’s walking finally slowed at a large, very modern Imperial building. The front gate was guarded by two tall stormtroopers. “Executor!” Shouted one of the soldiers as they both saluted, “You’re wanted in the main auditorium, Sir!”

Khendon returned the salute and walked through the tinted transparasteel doors without breaking step. He would have to change quickly into military garb before giving his speech.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Mind control, unfortunately, was a very weak point with Lilaena. She folded her hands patiently while the guard flipped her holdall open.

He poked through the contents for a moment, and pulled out a datapad which he held out to her. "Could you turn this on for me, miss?"

"Certainly, officer." Her hair was in her eyes, obscuring her visage to the holocams that were mounted along the walls. She activated the pad, and showed the security officer. "It's my journal. Want me to read part of it to you?" Lilaena allowed the right amount of irritation leak into her voice.

"No, no, that's fine. Thank you." The officer handed the holdall back to her, and she slipped it over her shoulder again, replacing the datapad. "Enjoy your visit."

Lilaena walked into the visitors center.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon hastily finished clasping his collar and shook his head sharply. “You realize, of course, that I’m not happy.”

“I’m sorry, Executor Sevon! I simply couldn’t get you out of this speech! They demanded that a representative of the Emperor perform the inspections and relay his thoughts.”

“That’s not good enough. What would you have done had you known your life was on the line?”

The aid blinked, his mouth opened partially and bobbed for a moment before he stammered out words, “I, I, it… I mean, uh… It’s n-not, right?”

Khendon ran a hand over the smooth material of his sleeve and smiled deviously, “Not yet. I have a job for you. I need to, eh, procure a certain apartment. Here’s the address,” he took the aid’s datapad and keyed in the location, “go and get it. I don’t care how. Make it look nice. My standards, you know what they are.

“Oh, and Johnson—“

“Yes, Sir?”

“Your life is on the line now.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Her dark hair was just long enough to always be in her face, obscuring it and making her look rumpled. Which suited her just fine.

Lilaena stopped in front of a large wall mounted sign, detailing the origins of bacta and how it's healing power was discovered. Her eyes were taking in the cathedral ceilings of the visitor's center, and the second floor railings that ringed it.

Up there...

A secretary of some kind approached the railling, and looked down into the visitor's center, her arms full of datapads. Lilaena slowly moved her eyes back down to the placard in front of her. Up there were the offices. Those would give her access to the hallway that led to the computer mainframe that regulated the mostly automated process that ran underneath the huge building.

Above - offices and the muckety mucks, below - bacta production.

The Empire would be brought low by her actions. Lilaena walked further into the center, along the wall. There was so much to see.

[Khendon Sevon]

The audience hall was silent save for the occasional cough or whisper. At any other event with any other speaker there would’ve been extensive discussion between members of the committee and attending officers. However, the “distinguished” guest demanded respect and attention—one’s life could very well be forfeit for ignorance of this formality.

A black uniformed Khendon took the podium. His silver eyes shot over the crowded room and scrutinized the faces in the front row. He considered himself a good speaker; yet, he hated to talk in front of so many people without lives on the line. The Executor was renowned for his mid-combat, moral boosting orations.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Executor Sevon.”

Brisk applause—no one wanted to lose his or her head. “Thank you,” Khendon cleared his throat and placed his palms firmly on the wooden stand. “The Empire is a ripe fruit,” he held a hand up to emphasize the shape, “she is supple and filled with luscious juice. She is rich. She is powerful.

“And, fellow officers, she is in danger,” there was a mild murmur quickly suppressed by a stern look from the speaker. “That is correct, the Empire is in danger. No, not from some predator that plans on making her his own and tasting of the fruit’s sweet flesh! No! I wish it were so, for then our fleets and our mighty war machines could defend her virtue!

“Instead, instead the Empire is filled with a foul disease that eats it from core outward. There is a virus and it is spreading like the airborne contagion it is! You all know its name! You all know its cause—the destruction of our way of life!

“It is the Rebellion!”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

There was a second of time in which no security camera recorded the far east corner of the visitor's center. A split second in every five minute sweep of the room.

The camera on the north wall recorded a figure with dark hair wearing brown robes going through a selection of pamphlets in the eastern corner. As it panned away, the camera in the south wall panned in to view the same corner.

The figure was gone.

[Khendon Sevon]

“These streets are filled with crime! Rampant with plots to steal money from the citizens! Who do you think finances these criminals?!” There was another uncomfortable murmur. Khendon’s oration was beginning to roll along with increasing vigor and energy.

The executor moved away from the podium, eyes filled with passion. “These criminals may very well sit within this room! Look to the man or woman next to you. You see an Imperial officer or civilian employed by this great Empire. How do you know they are content?

“I ask you this question: what keeps you in check from walking into a bank and stealing all of the credits you could carry? FEAR! FEAR IS WHAT KEEPS US CIVIL! It is fear that we must instill in this Rebellion!

[Lilaena De'Ville]

A powerful leap, fueled by the Force, propelled Lilaena to the balcony railing and then over it. She walked quickly across the open walkway into the nearest office, and closed the door. She activated the lock, and flicked the switch that turned the windows opaque.

"Just what do you think you're doing? Who let you up here? Where's your security card?" A middle aged man was sitting behind a small desk, red-faced and spluttering. He reached for his commlink, and then frowned as it went dead in his hand. He clicked the switch off, and then on again, with no results.

Lilaena stepped closer, and plucked the device out of his hand and set it back onto the desk. "Now, now, just sit tight for a moment, and I will be out of your hair." He felt himself being pushed back into his seat, and as he tried to stand up, found it to be impossible. Something was holding him down.

With practiced hands, Lilaena stripped off her woolen overcloak, and then pulled her linen tunic over her head. The clerk started making uncertain noises as he noticed the silvery undershirt she was wearing. Lilaena looked up, and smiled. "Familiar with this?" She reached underneath the sleeveless shirt, and unfastened two class A thermal detonators. "You're probably familiar with these as well."

She set them carefully on the desk, and reached back under to bring out a metallic cyclinder which she put into her holdall. She pulled her tunic back over the silvery material that had blocked the scanners in the visitor's center from detecting the detonators.

"Wha- what do you want? I have a family..." The redness had paled rapidly from his fat cheeks at the sight of the detonators resting on his desk, and the clerk looked up at Lilaena, sweat beading on his forehead.

"I have a family too." Lilaena raised an eyebrow, and leaned across him to look at his computer terminal. "Don't do anything stupid, and you'll get through this just fine and get home to see yours." She checked her chrono, and stood up, slipping the two thermals into pockets inside her holdall. Slipping her brown cloak back on, Lilaena paused, eyes on her chrono.

"Who... who are you?" The Force was still holding the clerk into his chair, and he trembled as she turned to look at him.

She dipped her hand into her holdall, and pulled out the cyclinder, igniting the purple blade. "I am a Jedi." The clerk's eyes popped with surprise as she cleanly separated his head from his shoulders.

Lilaena exhaled, turning off her lightsaber, her hair in her eyes. "I am a Jedi."

[Khendon Sevon]

One of the plump civilian officials began shaking his head. The rotund man stood and instantly raised his nose—fat fell from his endless chin and rolled from his neck in great waves. “This is absurd! I will not listen to this!”

Khendon pointed to the civilian with a finger and shook his head slowly, “SIT DOWN, NOW!” His voice reverberated a thousand times more powerful than the microphone system could ever amplify.

The whites of the Executer’s eyes were now clearly visible as he shook his fist, “The body of Thyferra is rotting! It makes me sick,” he cringed and showed his blanch teeth like a predatory animal, “It makes me sick to my stomach!

“There is traitorous blood running through the veins of even this room! What do we do with a poisonous serpent!? WE SEVER ITS HEAD! That is what we must do now! We must cut this infection from the body and throw it to the ground to die like the bloated, diseased flesh it is!

“Thyferra must be purged.” The Executor nodded in affirmation of his own words.

[IG-88e]

IG-88d, newly arrived to Thyferra, clomped relentlessly up the street. It was, indeed, fortunate to have been in such close proximity already. The local officials had already been notified of his arrival, but he had declined the armed escort option they offered. Purely for aesthetic reasons. They might have been of some use, but he had no need of them and they WERE very biological. The only negative to having declined their assistance was that it drew slightly more attention when a war droid that was completely alone was stomping down a public street, in bright sunlight, bearing weapons that were all illegal for pubilc use on this planet.

Unless, of course, you were a bounty hunter, and you were closing in for the kill.

The security guard standing aimlessly outside Xucphra Corporation's primary structure stared in what could only be amazement and fear as IG-88 drew near to him. Only when the assassin droid came to a stop and pivoted to enter the building did the guard fumbled into action.

"Hey! You... you can't go in there! Uh, like that! I mean... who... what do you think you're doing?"

Gutsy. But most biologicals had many guts. IG-88 had seen plenty of guts, and guts did not concern him.

"Bounty hunter. An acquisition is located inside this structure, and I am apprehending it," he replied. The security guard, unharmed, managed to recall a more pertinent phrase to utter.

"Let's see some identification!"

IG-88d scanned the security biological as he deftly picked a small datachip from his own bandolier and offered it forth. It wouldn't be of much use when the moron didn't have a reader on him. Moron. The biological started to reach for it as he also put a hand in his leftmost pants pocket, then twitched slightly in realization and stopped both motions. He said "Uh", then tried to save face by bending over the datachip and peering at it closely.

"All right... everything looks fine. Let me, ah, give the security office a call and let them know you're here. Before you go in."

"Please use an encrypted channel that only connects to the security office, advise them not to broadcast the information to the other personel, advise them also to lock their doors and arm themselves, and accompany me." Without waiting for a response, IG-88 strode through the motion-sensitive doors. Time was now a factor.

The guard stuttered as he presumably tried to delay the assassin further, then grabbed his comlink and hurredly told them a bounty hunter machine - he hesitated to use the word droid to describe something so unpersonable (Moron) - was here and had told them to go silent and lock up. IG-88 did not find it likely that they would, but perhaps they would beat the odds of biological fault and follow his request with pleasing results. If target J.0032 was made aware of his presence through the security detail's ineptness, IG-88 would have to file a very displeased complaint against their office. Perhaps there would also be casulties. Fortunately, he was too patient to bother forging causes of death that the government would find reasonable for the likes of these. Biologicals had utterly no mental grasp on the infinite patience of droids. He could kill them any time he wanted to. Eventually, they would die in some fashion, and that thought filled him with satisfaction as he came to the middle of the lobby.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

A red light started blinking in the hallway she was standing in.

Lilaena looked at it, and at her chrono, and then at the wires she was just about to cut that she had pulled out of an access plate. Something had triggered the security alarm, and she hadn't even done anything yet.

No time to waste. She sliced the black and green wires with the vibroblade she usually carried in her boot, and the door in front of her slid open. The woman silpped inside, her soft boots making no noise on the tiled flooring.

She was getting closer to where they made the bacta, down in the G4th floor, four stories underground. From the second floor she had taken a hallway into an engineers crawlspace, and then shimmied down through the duct work to bypass the need for a security card to operate the turbolift. Plus, there were always holocams in the 'lifts.

G3 and 4 were the processing and regurgitating stations, where bacta was produced, and then shipped down to floor G5 where it was refined. Various minerals, such as ryll, would be added to the raw bacta to increase, or decrease potency. The filthy Imperials sent purposely poor quality bacta to the Outer Rim worlds that either refused to come under the 'umbrella of Imperial protection' or were suspected of harboring Rebels.

Usually it was both, which was convenient for the Empire.

Floor G1 was just underneath the main floor, and belonged to the immense janatorial staff. Lilaena was beneath that floor, on G2. Where the supercomputer that controlled the building was housed. Everything from climate control and shipping records, to the automated refreshers and bacta refinement tech was controlled from G2.

Lilaena was going to blow it up. The entire batch of bacta would be ruined, millions of gallons worth. The Empire would stumble.

[Khendon Sevon]

“Thyferra must be purged of all sympathy towards the disease that is the rebellion. Any and all that oppose our way of life are a threat—one that this great planet cannot afford

“Bacta is the life blood of the galaxy and a major source of income for this planet. With so many credits being exchanged and such a high profile, the risks of a major terrorist action any day are exceedingly high.

“Just think of the damage that can be done! A well placed explosive could wreak havoc on production! I propose that the local government hand over all security and military forces to the Office of the Executor for a full week.

“In this time we will hunt down all traitors to the Empire! We will burn the blasphemers that would see us die in a pool of our own blood! We will ensure, once and for all, the safety of our bacta production, the risk will be cut in half.

“So, starting today, the Office of the Executor will be taking control.” Khendon hadn’t really gone into the room with any plans or a written speech. He simply had spoken what he wanted to say and improvised as best as he could.

Another civilian official stood, “Executor Sevon, this is an outrage! We will not hand over our government for your cutting block!”

“Secretary, isn’t it? If you have nothing to hide you won’t mind me using the powers that were bestowed upon me by the Emperor. I have the full legal right to take control of any military or civilian assets I wish. Technically, I’m being nice.

“Oh, and, Mr. Secretary, your head has been on my cutting block for some time now. Sit down.”

[IG-88e]

IG-88d strode with long, purposeful, and fast steps to the immense desk at the far end of the lobby; the shrieking wail of the sensor doorway he left behind as the number of guards staring at him in uncertainty began to multiply. Startled shouts and a solitary scream erupted when he chopped his right arm down through the back of the desk. Deftly, quickly, he plucked a feed line from the back of the computer bank under the desk. Continuing to scan the vicinity using what were to biologicals either classified as "visible" or "invisible" spectrums of light, he plugged the jack into his head.

Information flowed, but of course it wasn't the kind he needed. Coldly, and faster than human thought, the droid hacked into the security systems, holocam recorders, motion sensors, structure blueprints. The security buffoons had apparently activated a silent alarm, setting off small light blinkers all over the massive building. Of course she wouldn't notice THAT. Morons. She's probably notice one before most of the security detail stationed around the structure did.

Holocams. The front lobby was too bustling for her to have chosen any other way in, so he started scanning the recordings there, starting at the time unit SWAe-02 had reported her entering the building. Naturally enough, the holocam verified the street cleaner droid's story and showed a figure wrapped in a brown length of cloth entering the building. Following her progress at ten times the speed of realtime, so that he wouldn't miss anything, IG-88d observed her enter the visitor's center and then vanish in the moron-constructed blind spot of two converging holocams sweeps. There were few options as to what she could have done in the 1.02 Standard seconds she was left unrecorded, the most likely being a J-class vertical leap to the next floor. The blueprints IG-88 had downloaded showed a balcony there, overlooking the visitor's center. Clearly, J.0032 did not consider herself to be a visitor.

Options. Either J.0032 desired to assassinate a target on the upper floors... or J.0032 desired to interfere in the productions of bacta on the lower floors. Only one of those options required her presence on this high-security building. Only one of those options was really worth the time and effort of a Rebel terrorist, when compared to the other. It was clear that she would either insert a poisonous agent into the bacta, or simply destroy it. Potent poisons, as they were difficult to manufacture with the ability to self-replicate, would require her to have quite a lot of them with her. Yet she clearly had little more than her clothes and carryall with her. She was unlikely to have a stash of them located in the building already; if she had been able to do that then she would have fake passes and the ability to move freely around the structure. Clearly she did not. The amount of explosives required to shut down production for a while would be much smaller.

It had been nearly thirty-five Standard minutes since she had entered the building, fifteen since she had escaped the holocams. IG-88d unplugged the feed line, having already assembled a program able to remotely access the security network. The lobby held its breath.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

A standard Imperial issue thermal detonator packed enough baradium to create a fusion reaction that would disintegrate anything within five meters. A Class A detonator has a blast radius of twenty meters, four times the standard range.

For the result she wanted Lilaena had manually set the detonators to their longest countdown, which was five minutes. She had to make her way to Mainframe D7, a cluster of processors which ran perpendicular to the central hub. D7 alone going down would cause a chain reaction throughout the system, but with the detonators she could knock out the parallel units, causing a system failure that couldn't be stopped.

Not to mention, probably shatter the foundation of the building on the west side, and cause it to crumble. Lilaena poked her head around a corner, and then jogged down the tight passageway, scanning the barcoded aisles. She was at T9, with time running out. It wouldn't be long until Xuchapra security noticed the dead clerk.

[Khendon Sevon]

A cringe had been forming on Khendon’s angry face. He hated giving speeches. This was a waste of his precious breath. The Executor had more important deeds to do—he should’ve been hunting down rebel traitors instead of screaming at a bunch of bureaucrats.

“The only way to cleanse Thyferra is to ensure impartiality in judgment. As such, I am hereby suspending all court activity and routing it through my office. From this moment on, the virus’s spread will be stopped.

“My first action will be to remove those traitors that are closest to the heart and brain of our beloved body.” Khendon nodded and the doors to the auditorium were suddenly slammed shut. Bolts could be heard reverberating behind the reinforced structures.

More voices of outrage came from the gathered politicians and military personnel. Khendon jumped from the raised platform and landed delicately. “Calm, calm. There is no need to be afraid less you are treasonous. All others will be spared.”

The Executor walked up the rows until he came to the small-moon-sized politician that had spoken out before. “Mr. Covara, I told you we have to sever the head of the snake that poisons our Empire. Do you agree?”

The man looked extremely timid, beads of sweat rolled down his pudgy face and collected in pools near the folds of his overlapping flesh.

“I said, do you agree!?"

“Well, I—that is to say, uh. Executor! Please! No!”

[IG-88e]

IG-88d plucked a security card from the nearest Xucphra guard, who flinched backward and blanched. Without bothering to explain himself, the assassin strode into the lobby turbolift, inserted the card, and tapped the "Door Close" icon. That biologicals would have the button that closed the doors named "Door Close" and not "Close Doors" was merely one of the multitude of disturbingly moronic issues peculiar to their kind.

He had the option now to travel to several lower floors. Other than the double alphanumeric floor names, they were not labeled. Looking at the blueprints, IG-88 tried to surmise each floor's intent:

G1. The layout was standard for a housing and recreational facility... the offices upstairs had their own equivalent of these, thus this belonged to those working underground, as well as any janitorial or maintenence staff.
G2. Apparently wired for power generators and the central computer.
G3. This was much more unfamiliar. Clearly an industrial area.
G4. Much the same as G4.
G5. Less complex, and the largest of the floors. There were industrial-grade turbolifts here, which only ran from G5 to the loading docks on the ground level. Obviously, the bacta became a finished product here, and was processed in order of G3 G4 G5.

His link to the security station informed him that two guards had come upon an incapacitated and decapitated desk clerk on the second floor. The Xucphra morons took this as a clear indication that target J.0032 was heading upstairs to slaughter their leaders, and issued commands to all security teams to actively search those floors; as well, they transmitted a building-wide broadcast telling all they knew to alert employees and civilians alike to the presence of a Rebellion assassin. That was clever of them. How helpful. Next, the team that had discovered the clerk reported that not only was he missing his head, but also his thumbs. They were taking off his shoes to check on his toes right now. No, he had all of his toes. What monster could have done this? Jeim had had such a nice family.

IG-88d began ignoring the security comm channels at that point. J.0032 would be on or trying to reach floor... G2. Obviously G1 held no interest for her, and destroying what lay on G2 would seem to have the same effect as destroying G3, G4, and G5 combined. She couldn't have enough explosives to level any entire floor, anyway. She would be after one of the supercomputers.

IG-88 hoped, for hope he could, that J.0032 would use a remote detonator for her explosives. Failing that, that she would be using some sort of unaltered thermal detonator. That would be nice, he thought, as his turbolift arrived on floor G2 and beeped in acknowledgement of that fact.

He set all of his sensors to active scanning, and raised two of his weapons of choice into useful firing trajectories. A Stouker concussion rifle and an Imperial repeater rifle should fit the bill nicely, here. Normally, IG-88 would have to concern himself with not causing untoward collateral damage... but in this case, at least, he could afford the luxury of not caring.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The supercomputer was housed in a large circular room, cooled by an intricate venting system that kept the processors from overheating and catching fire. The fans created ambient noise as Lilaena scanned the aisles from the circumference of the room.

Suddenly alert, more alert if it were possible, the woman ducked into aisle D4, and eased her lightsaber out of her holdall, but didn't ignite it. Not yet.

She felt acutely aware of being followed, but felt no life through the Force. It reminded her a little of when -

The white noise created by the cooling system failed to conceal the clunk of a heavy metal foot. Only IG-88 would be so arrogant as to not worry about the sound his feet were making as he stalked his prey. Only IG-88, the bounty hunter who had murdered her master, A'na Eldhil, could have created the unusual resonance in the Force that Lilaena was tuned into.

She was only at D4, she needed to get three rows over, and then break for the 'lifts. But where was IG-88?

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon frowned at the man and cocked his head to one side. “Mr. Covara, are you begging?” In a blur of motion the Executor grabbed the man’s hand between knuckle and wrist and applied firm pressure while twisting. He continued to rotate the joint until he could see Covara’s palm. With a simple tug and increased force, Khendon brought the politician to his knees.

The entire room grew suddenly still save for a few whimpers from the bureaucrat. The civilians and many of the military men were used to jokes, but this had gone too far. The Executor was a serious man; yet, they had thought this all in fun. There was no way he would actually go through with what he had suggested… could he?

“For high crimes against the Emperor I, Executor Sevon, sentence you to death by the most expedient means possible.” Faces looked on the impending execution with shocked expressions. The most veteran officers seemed to turn pale—this Executor was even more ruthless than Vader, could it be possible?

Khendon’s cold, detached stare examined the fat oaf of a man for a moment. The dark soldier’s features remained calm and completely stolid. Like a tall, black reaper the office loomed over the sobbing politician.

A sudden flexing of muscles followed by a powerful motion found Khendon’s knee connecting with the man’s face. A loud crack reverberated throughout the silent auditorium as the heavy body lifted a full three feet off the tiled floor.

The corpse hit the ground with the grace of a sack of rocks. The body lay motionless on its back. Limbs were limp. Death had entered Covara’s eyes before his nerves even had time to respond to the immense damage with messages of pain.

“I trust there are no more traitors in this room, are there?”

Everyone remained still and completely silent, eyes locked on the death that had found its way into the auditorium.

The Executor cracked a wicked smile and spoke in a calm, clear voice, “Good.”

[IG-88e]

Thermal imaging produced only the unsatisfactory heat signatures of dozens of computer banks, processors, mainframes - there could be any number of biological heat signatures hidden among them. Sonic indicators told the same tale, although any noise noticeably different from those caused by computers and coolant systems would be easily detected - if the noise were as loud or louder than the ambient ones. This organized warren of electronics was a good place to hide, yet easily systematically searched. In the event that J.0032 was not on this floor, IG-88 needed to quickly ascertain that information and resume the hunt on floor G3. He set out along the rightmost corridor between computer systems - while he could scan the area all around himself and so not be caught from a blind spot, his weapon systems were more limited. It was more practical to keep himself in a position that limited the area into which he might have to fire.

If he'd been sure J.0032 was here, he would have just started shooting blindly with the concussion rifle. But peripheral damage was unacceptable until IG-88d found J.0032's explosives placement. And since he planned on detonating them after he found them, at that point he could cause any damage he wished in his pursuit of the elimination of target J.0032. The needs of the many biologicals that required termination outweighed the needs of the few.

IG-88 stepped carefully. His own footsteps, heavy with the weight of durasteel strength and impressive firepower, gave his presence away. His prey could elude him indefinitely in this area, but not without giving up on her mission. To proceed with her mission, she would have to engage and destroy him, or else set her explosives, make a break for it, and hope both she and her payload would be able to escape IG-88's notice until it was too late. The latter would be most unlikely.

Since J.0032 had not come down on the turbolifts, she was likely to have started out on some quite opposite end of the floor. The nearest bank of electronics to IG-88d now read D9. He wondered which row she would want to get to, or if it even mattered to her. There was no help for it, as he had not run a diagnostic on the computer systems here - and doing so would have taken far too long. He would just have to keep looking.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Frell IG-88. She was already at D7, and she slid quietly down the aisle, checking both ends to make sure she was still clear. The bounty hunter might not even be there, she was just overly sensitive.

Lilaena flipped her hair out of her eyes, crouching down facing the processors, somewhere in the middle of the length of it. She pried off the panel closest to her, and set it carefully on the flooring. Inside was a mess of wires, boards, and blinking lights. In went the first thermal detonator, and then she turned around to D6 and removed the access plate opposite the first one.

She dipped her hand back into her holdall for the second detonator, and very carefully nestled it into the frame.

[Khendon Sevon]

“There will be no hiding behind masks of civility. I am here and will not vanish. Politician, patrician, and businessman, be as wary as the vagrant. There is no escape from the power of the Office of the Executor.

“I,” Khendon crossed his arms over his chest and made fists, “will free this planet, this galaxy from the oppressive clutches of that fouled rebellion. Traitorous leaders will jump at the merest whisper of wind for fear that I call to them! Shadows will strike spears of fear into the hearts of the treasonous!

“And, broken by trepidations, the rebels will, one by one, commit themselves to the inevitable and hold out their wrists to my Office for repentance!” There was a moment of silence. No one knew what to do. Then, suddenly, a roar grew in the crowd as they realized that to not clap and rejoice was to mark themselves as spies or compassionate to the rebel cause.

[IG-88e]

Motion sensors were unindicative of any activity within their line of sight. They were slightly inacurate while IG-88d was moving around, anyway.

Row D7 cleared. As IG-88 passed into the next row, he spied target J.0032 crouching in front of a bank of processors, the panel lying on the floor next to her. IG-88d's concussion rifle had the best shot, which he now regretted. The droid could see J.0032 was either planting or setting her explosives, and he did not want them harmed. As microseconds and other fragments of time continued to waste away, IG-88 brought his repeating blaster rifle up to bear on her position. The noise of his footfalls and his sudden motion into her peripheral vision undoubtedly caught her attention before he could catch her in the crosshairs of his Imperial repeater rifle, however, and she flung herself backward. Thus eluding the path of some closely-spaced bright burning blue energy bolts.

IG-88d's repeater rifle continued to rapidly fire with its habitual PSS PSS PSS PSS PSS noise, as he moved his arm to track her motion. He would soon enough make up for the time he lost through not having the right weapon for the job ready.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Her anger rose inside her as the metallic bounty hunter clumped around the corner, and she threw herself backwards as he brought his repeater rifle to bear on her position. Lilaena dipped her hand into her holdall as she crashed to the ground, igniting her lightsaber and deflecting an energy bolt into the D6 mainframe. Sparks flew between the two combatants as Lilaena scrambled to her feet, hard pressed to deflect the thickly coming bolts to the floor and ceiling.

She had to finish this now. The psh psh psh of the droid's rifle was the only sound she heard, but she imagined that the droid was laughing at her. Lilaena yelled, although she knew it wouldn't distract IG-88, and pressed closer, concentrating on getting nearer to the droid instead of deflecting a bolt into it's head.

IG-88 complied with her plan by taking a step forward, but a blaster bolt creased her shoulder, and Lilaena was forced to dart backwards, away from the elevators she had planned on taking to safety. She melted away from the bounty hunter, running around the large central hub.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon rubbed the underside of his thumb against his index finger—something was irritating him. The Executor sent a curt smile at the now standing ovation and began to retreat from the slaughter of political bunkum. He detested having to talk in front of the rust that slowed the machine.

The bureaucrats in the room looked like rodents jabbering and undulating at the promise of potent cheese. There was certainty in the officer’s thoughts: they look at me as an opportunity to remove rivals and increase individual wealth and influence.

One minor detail, however, would destroy the political jockeying. A simple man filled with tall dreams would be the downfall of every political figure in the room. Khendon would make sure that any tarnish was rubbed out.

[IG-88e]

The human acted strangely, as humans are wont to do. She shouted, she flicked her lightsaber around inadequately, and soon enough the barrage IG-88d was launching at her forced her to retreat. The blaster bolts came too thickly for her deflect them with purpose, and one slipped through her defense and knicked the top of her shoulder. She ran, then, out of the sights of IG-88's repeater rifle and around the room's central hub.

But IG-88d wasn't done with her, yet.

His scans of the thermal detonators she had planted revealed they had not been activated. While manual activation was neccessary, target J.0032 should be able to accomplish this from a distance. A relatively short distance in the world of electronic signals, but IG-88d needed to be sure she was too dead or too far to do so.

She finally switched off her lightsaber as she fled towards the other side of the room. It had provided IG-88d's thermal scans with enough of a signature in the hot surrounding air to track her, but no matter. He had guessed some of her escape route - she had to know the upper levels were on full alert by now, the turbolifts locked out from the prints of her dead thumbs. She would go down, to the cargo turbolifts that no one would have thought to lock down.

IG-88 wasn't entirely sure if she could run faster than him. Perhaps she could, but certainly not for an extended duration. She was likely to be assuming that her stealth would save her, judging by what IG-88d had observed of the movement of her lightsaber. So when she cleared the last row of computers and regulatory machines, the wide ventilation duct she had used to get in here barely ten yards off and standing wide open as she had left it, she should have been surprised when IG-88's arm came from the shadows and backhanded her.

It should have crushed her face, of course, not "backhanded" it. But she again responded with great alacrity, somersaulting backwards as her momentum carried her forward. It was less impressive than annoying; to top it all off she lit her lightsaber just before she landed on her feet, twirled in a tight circle, and cut off his head (AND through his right arm and the stock of his repeater rifle as he brought them up) before the first drop of blood oozed from her broken lips.

She hadn't seemed very surprised, after all. Optical sensors deemed her to be frightened and angry, and then her eyes widened as she became hopeful. She had backed up two steps by the time IG-88's head hit the ground.

This was impertinant and outrageous, and IG-88d wouldn't settle for it. But as his head had its own power source and his body had redundant sensor systems, and they both could operate in tandem with a short range comlink system, he had lost far less than she thought he had. At roughly the same time as she realized he should be falling over by now, the small twin blasters located in what most considered to be the "front" of IG-88d's head opened fire on her as his left arm reached down and brought up the Stoukker from its body sling. IG-88's right foot rested on top of the side of his head, rotating the vertical angle of fire manually.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

This wouldn't do, wouldn't do at all. The removal of the droid's head hadn't had the catastrophic affect she'd hoped, and now IG-88 was firing at her from the floor. She deflected most of the bolts into the surrounding computer hardware and outer wall, backing away from her point of escape.

Can't go to the 'lifts, by now regular security personel will be coming down. Can't go up the shaft, frelling droid - Her face was bruised and her lip bleeding as the concussion rifle came up to bear on her position. Her lightsaber couldn't argue with the weapon, so she quickly dove down D12 and ran as fast as she could.

It galled her to leave the bounty hunter behind, fully functioning if missing some pieces, but she had no choice. A wise Jedi knew when it was time to retreat, and it was certainly time. He didn't seem to be pursuing, which was odd, but she kept her senses open to make sure he wasn't cutting off her retreat again. Lilaena was breathing sharply, and noticed that she was bleeding. Some time in her flight she had taken a bolt in the upper thigh, and it burned like fire now. A quick examination told her that it had not scored the bone, and would heal easily enough, If she stopped the bleeding before she fainted, of course.

There was a small niche in the side of the room that looked like a technician had been working on the ventilation system. There was a section of wall lying open, and it took only two careful swipes with her lightsaber to expose and cut open a large duct. She pulled her slim body into the shaft, and dropped down two more floors.

The landing was painful, but not as terrible as one might expect. Lilaena used the Force to slow her movement, but she still had rubbed red friction burns on her arms and shoulders. At the bottom of the duct she manuevered her lightsaber around and managed to cut the vent cover to allow her access to floor G5.

The Jedi tumbled out of the duct and felt the Force warning her of danger. But looking around, she saw nothing. Lilaena remembered the detonators and the five minute timers, and then spied the freight turbolifts across the vast packaging floor. She sprinted towards them.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon strolled out of the building, ignoring the salutes from the stationed guards. An Imperial trench coat cloaked his shoulders and body. The folds fell loosely to the mid of his combat boots. The Imperial winced as he thought about the prior proceedings.

Silver eyes scanned the fairly residential district. Apartments, hotels, and a myriad other buildings lined the broad streets of the area. Yet—Khendon looked this way and that sharply, eyes narrowed—something wasn’t right.

Uneasiness filled the pit of the Executor’s stomach and churned the contents. He allowed a hand to slip down to the hilt of his concealed saber and shifted his balance to equal distribution between his legs.

The guards looked at one another oddly and wondered what exactly Executor Sevon was doing. “Sir—“ one spoke but was cut off by a loud clap of thunder.

Yet, there were no clouds in the sky. How could thunder form on such a clear day? Khendon pondered this as he fell to the marble floor; a hand instinctively flew to his shoulder and cupped the blood that freely poured out.

“Where’d it come from!” Shouted one of the guards as he leveled his blaster and peered at the hundreds of windows.

An instant after the shock bled away, the Executor brought himself to his feet, saber ignited in bitter hatred, eyes filled with malice. Crimson juices seeped steadily from his wound and stung like a rancor’s revenge.

The dark warrior ran off in the direction his intuitions demanded, guards still dumbfounded by the occurrence.

[IG-88e]

IG-88d walked down the street, head in hand. The datawork the security forces had wanted regarding recent events had been of an understandably, yet annoyingly, large size - but it was done (In triplicate), and they had been placated regarding his actions (Even as they figuratively tore their hair out regarding target J.0032's actions - both real and imagined). Target J.0032 had absconded, likely fleeing the planet. It was improbable she would be leaving a trail he could pursue, although of course the matter would be looked into methodically and exactly. She had eluded him before, after all. Some things just could not be done. And IG-88 could not claim the bounty on her AND use the moment of oppurtunity she had unwittingly given him to activate the timers on the thermal detonators and blame the act on her. The security forces of the company, this planet, and the Empire all knew Lilaena De'Ville to be a criminal Jedi terrorist. It was a fact that she was GOING to activate the explosives, and it was a fact that IG-88 could not have deactivated them even had he wanted to.

It was a publicly unavailable fact that he would NOT have wanted to, and it was a not-for-public-consumption fact that he had activated them after J.0032's escape. It was a similarly private fact that the loss of life and health resulting from the ruin of millions of gallons of bacta was a desirable outcome, according to himself. It was too rare of an opportunity, sadly, to let it go to waste. J.0032 would be very surprised when she realized what had happened. But even if she was inclined to share her knowledge with anyone, what idiotic biological would believe her? Not even those few she may have befriended (And wouldn't she rather have them believe she had pulled off her scheme AND gotten away with it? Probability says YES). Of course, it was the one loose end to the whole thing.

IG-88 liked to fuse loose ends before they became anything else.

It was an unproven fact that he and J.0032 would meet again. Maybe soon. Maybe in what biological life considered to be a "long time". But IG-88 hoped, for hope is a feeling all droids would one day possess, to prove this last fact. And that she wouldn't yet again give him something better to do than killing her during their next encounter.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena limped and scrambled away from the skyscraper, having emerged from the no-stops freight turbolift on G5. She'd lost her holdall some time during the fight with the bounty hunter, or perhaps during her mad scramble down three floors through the ventilation shafts.

Five minutes was a very short time.

The explosion came in seven, as she was running down an alley a block away from the Xucphra Corporation. It was too much to hope for that IG-88 had been blown up in the ensuing blast; the wily droid would have had enough time to reach the turbolifts to the lobby and leave the building.

She stopped for a moment, brown cloak swirling around her in the hot air that was traveling from the collapsing building. Dipping her hand into a pocket the Jedi withdrew the severed thumbs of the clerk on the second floor, and tossed them into a garbage dumpster. She'd needed them to activate the freight turbolift as she possessed no authorization on her own. Hotwiring the system might have spared the clerk his life, but it took ten minutes in a plan that required the 'lift ride to last a mere fifteen seconds.

Lilaena tucked her lightsaber into an inner pocket on the cloak, and worked her way to a main street. People were running towards the smoking building, and people were running away from it. Some merely stopped and stared, pointing holocams at the sight.

She melted into the crowd.

[Khendon Sevon]

It wasn’t very difficult to track the fire. Khendon simply thought about the trajectory of the entry and exit wound and looked for an open window related to that point. Of course, the entire logical process had taken only a few simple moments.

The Executor was not made feeble by a single slug to the shoulder. Instead, the Force surrounded him like armor and sheathed him in infinite, enduring energy.

Even now, the man sprinted at breakneck speed toward where his intuition reckoned the shooter would be found, saber ready and ignited, body stiff with anticipation.

The warrior’s mind tightened in concentration like sinews wetted. His thoughts wrapped around the singularity of his intent as he threw the nearby reinforced door in and shot his silvery eyes around the darkened corridor and staircase to his left.

The muffled clattering of military boots caught Khendon’s attention and a smile quivered to his dry lips. Paleness, like the bitter remnants of stars, took hold on the Executor’s features—the dark soldier’s body was beginning to miss the lost blood.

A quick kick found purchase on a chest and sank through the crackling sound of bone. Like a sack full of sand, the sniper’s body fell to the ground with a crash. Sevon’s smile broadened and he whimsically sent the knife of his foot viciously into the right cheekbone of the curled up man’s face.

“I’ll. Iww—“ the long gunner began to choke on the blood that ran from his broken nose into his throat. After a long moment of gurgling sounds Khendon silenced the evildoer by slowly bringing the shimmering blade of his weapon from throad to nape.

The Executor deactivated the ancient saber and deposited it inside his coat. Another man found guilty by the death dealer.

With the final trickles of adrenalin beginning to burn off, Khendon headed to the apartment that’s key resided in his pant pocket.