As his successor to the post of Rollmaster walked away, Andrelious smiled at his wife, who had heard the majority of the conversation between the two males.
“You’re not going to pay any attention to his request to make it quick and painless, are you?” the Alderaanian asked.
“At least I’m actually going to kill my target. You’d spend so long toying with him that he’d die of old age instead!” the former Imperial retorted playfully as he quickly packed his blasters and a few perishables into his flight bag. Also inside was a small picture of Trimula Finsor that Andrelious had acquired through Nadrin.
“How long do you think you’ll be on this one? You weren’t very long with your previous job.” Kooki stated.
“That was a piloting mission. Those are over quickly. This sort of mission’s going to take me some time. I have to find him, then work out a way to eliminate him and his associates. Don’t expect me back for several days.” Andrelious answered, trying to hide the fact that he’d miss his family behind a stoic tone.
“Just you be careful. I know you’re one of the Bureau’s favoured workers, but you’re no assassin. Are you sure you don’t want me to come on this one? I could leave the girls with At-“ the Priestess offered, but was silenced by a quick shake of the head.
“Kooki, my work is a little more dangerous than the level you’re ready for. Even if you tried to come, Celevon and Atyiru wouldn’t let you. As much as you’re becoming a force to be reckoned with, especially with that lightsaber of yours, I’m not prepared to risk us both on one mission,” the Soulfire Captain replied, planting a kiss on his wife’s cheek and leaving their home before she could answer back.
-x-
Zeltros was one of the last places that Andrelious had wanted to go to. Clan Arcona had only just recovered from an attack by the Faust Corporation that had hospitalised Atyiru. The fact that it was a Zeltron that had shot the Aedile had not endeared the near-Human species to the already xenophobic Mimosa-Inahj.
On arrival, Andrelious had immediately elected to head to a nearby cantina, both to drink and to begin getting to know the locals. The Warlord was not a natural at tracking people, nor was he particularly skilled at blending in; he began to wonder if Kooki, who was becoming quite a master of disguise, should have come after all as he tried hard to eavesdrop on the various conversations that were going on throughout the establishment.
It did not take long for the Sith to realise that the reputation that Zeltros carried was well deserved. Even in the spaceport cantina, where the ratio of locals was a little lower than elsewhere, the mood was that of a party. Bright colours adorned the walls, whilst the locals that manned the bar counter were continuously flirting with the clientele. Even as happy as he was married to Kooki, Andrelious had to admit that the females were incredibly attractive, and had happily flirted back.
“So, honey, are you here long?” a barmaid asked of the Arconan as she handed him another bottle of Ebla Beer.
“I’m actually here to find an old friend of mine.” Andrelious stated sharply, drinking half of the beer in a single swig.
“Why don’t you just stay here a while? I see you’re married. Perhaps you could take me home to your wife and we could all get to know each other.” the female replied with a wink.
“You help me find who I’m looking for, and we’ll see. I need to know if you’ve ever seen this man passing by here,” Mimosa-Inahj smiled as he quickly showed Finsor’s picture to the barmaid.
The Zeltron played with her hair a little as she studied the picture. “Hehe, he’s a cutie too. But I can’t recall seeing him, sweetie.”
Good. I actually quite like this girl. I’m glad that I don’t have to kill the first person I’ve spoken to properly. Andrelious thought as he finished his latest beer.
“Another beer? I’m Rewsa, by the way.” the barmaid declared with another alluring smile.
“I’m And…Mostynn,” the male replied, nearly forgetting to use an alias.
“Such a nice, sexy name. Don’t think I’ve ever met a Mostynn before.” Rewsa stated.
“Alright, Rewsa. Thanks for the help. Is there anywhere near here where I could perhaps stay for a few days while I look for my friend? And don’t worry – I’ve got plenty of credits. I always make sure of that,” Mimosa-Inahj replied, remembering what had happened once when he had drunk far more than he could afford.
Rewsa grinned yet again. “Well, there’s always my place, but I’m not done here for a few more hours. There’s a spacer’s hotel just a block or two away. They may have a few rooms,”
“Thanks once again. I’ll take a couple of Eblas for the road, but I’d better be going. My friend isn’t exactly going to be looking for me, and I have come quite a long way…” Andrelious answered, passing a stack of cred-sticks to his new friend.
-x-
After finding some difficulty in getting to sleep thanks to the ongoing partying all around the hotel, Andrelious awoke the next morning to find that the locals were still enjoying themselves. He had encountered little trouble in getting a room at the hotel, even using the Force to convince the owner to give him the best available room at a fraction of the regular price.
Without wasting any time, the Soulfire Captain quickly got dressed and headed out, stopping only to have a spiced caf and two slices of toast. He also grabbed a guide to the local area from a rack of leaflets, and began to study the list of cantinas, bars and restaurants. He knew little about his target, and so had elected to keep to the basics in the hope that somebody somewhere had met Finsor.
By midday three cantinas had been eliminated, with Andrelious making little progress with his mission. He did, however, now have a fairly extensive list of the names of local barstaff, and a general picture of the area around the main spaceport. Such information would perhaps be useful to Celevon and his staff, so the Warlord had made note of it all on his datapad.
Spotting a restaurant that looked a little more upmarket than the others in the area, the ex-Imperial walked straight through the establishment’s large double doors. The interior of the building was just as lavish as he had expected, and just as brightly decorated and loud as the cantinas that he already checked out.
“Welcome to the Giggling Twi’lek. Table for one?” a local dressed in the uniform of a waiter asked.
“I’m meeting a friend here. Put us as far away from the windows as possible. When he arrives, show him straight to my table.” Andrelious ordered, showing the bright skinned Humanoid the picture of his target.
“Oh! That’s Mr Erintar! He’s a regular here! He’ll probably be here in about half an hour!” the Zeltron announced.
“Very well. I’ll take an Ebla Beer and wait. Don’t tell him I’m arrived. I’m here to surprise him.” Andrelious commanded.
-x-
The first half hour passed uneventfully for Andrelious, who sat and enjoyed a further beer as he waited for his prey to arrive. As the time continued to tick by, the Warlord began to wonder if Finsor was ever going to arrive, and stalked quickly back to the waiter that he had conversed with previously. The Zeltron was headed outside, having finished his shift.
“You. What happened to Erintar? You said he’d be in nearly an hour ago,” the Arconan spat.
“I guess I lied!” the waiter responded with a chuckle.
Andrelious shook his head in disgust as the alien walked away.
The Warlord left moments later, making no attempt to pay the bill.
-x-
Having resigned to another night in the noisy hotel, Andrelious awoke a little earlier than he had the previous day, totally missing breakfast in favour of resuming his so far fruitless search.
As he headed outside, the Warlord found that the small hours of the morning were quieter even on the party world of Zeltros. He smiled to himself. That would make his next action a lot easier. Walking into a dark alleyway, he crouched down in a nearby doorway, waiting quietly as a few locals and tourists bustled past, too interested in their own conversations to notice him.
Five minutes later the waiter that had provided Andrelious with false information wandered by, whistling a merry tune as he made his way to work. Waiting until the right moment, the ex-Rollmaster moved out from his hiding place, taking hold of the Zeltron’s throat and squeezing hard on his windpipe.
“I think the name of your restaurant is wrong. It’s not so much the ‘Giggling Twi’lek’ as the ‘Lying Zeltron’!” Andrelious stated darkly as he continued to strangle the waiter to death. Finally, after a few moments of struggling, the humanoid succumbed to his fate.
Mimosa-Inahj dragged the corpse to a large waste disposal system located near where he had been hiding. With a great deal of effort, he lifted the dead Zeltron over his head, throwing it into the disposal system, smiling as he heard the whirring that indicated the body would soon be destroyed.
Moving swiftly away from the area, Andrelious examined a few more of the leaflets that he had picked up. He selected a few establishments that appeared to be similar in reputation to the Giggling Twi’lek, using the fact that he had been recognised by the serving staff there to infer that Finsor was not a fan of the ‘dirty’ local cantinas and preferred to have a bite to eat with his drinks.
-x-
Andrelious had decided to switch tactic a little. As his entry into an establishment that he still suspected was a haunt of Finsor’s had failed, the Warlord felt that a direct approach was not going to work. He approached another of the Zeltron capital’s many eateries, this time with a much more serious look on his face.
“Welcome to the Recklan Restaurant, sir. Can I get you a table?” the waiter - a Human male, asked politely.
“You are expecting me. I am Nautius Spreeks. If you’ve not heard of me, then frankly you don’t deserve your job,” the Warlord replied with more than a hint of arrogance, staring meaningfully at his fellow Human as he spoke.
The server shifted a little on his feet. He had heard a lot about the infamous Nautius Spreeks, a food critic who was responsible for the shutdown of hundreds of establishments all across the known galaxy. “Of course. Let me find you a table, Mr Spreeks! I’ll have an Ebla Reserve brought to you at once!”
Another weak minded fool. I’m just going to have to assume that he knows Finsor. After what happened last time, I can’t exactly ask. Mimosa-Inahj thought as he was shown to a table, making sure he was facing the restaurant’s entrance. He was quickly provided with the promised Ebla Reserve and a complimentary starter. The Arconan enjoyed both, pleased that his use of the Force had proven adequate – he could not deceive his way into a situation as his wife could and had half expected his ruse to fail.
“What can we get you, Mr Spreeks? Consider my staff and I at your disposal for the duration of your stay here!” a female Zeltron declared.
“You’re in charge of this place? Good. I’ll have one of those, then one of those.” Andrelious ordered, not bothering with manners. He could sense that the Zeltron was quite concerned about what he was going to think of the food and service at her restaurant. The ex-Imperial watched with a little amusement as the staff busied about to deal with his order – he had deliberately picked the most elaborate main course available. The Ebla Reserve bottles kept on coming as the order was prepared, Andrelious continuing to drink fairly heavily even as the large platter was placed before him.
“Defita. I’m a little concerned about Mr. Spreeks. From what I heard about him, he only has the one glass of house wine with his meal. Yet today he’s drunk five bottles of Ebla Reserve and just ordered a Corellian Brandy!” the Human that had greeted Andrelious stated once he and his employer were well out of the Warlord’s earshot.
“I thought he’d be a little taller. But I’m sure that it’s him.” Defita replied, not realising that the Force had conned her into believing the Arconan was who he had claimed to be.
The male nodded. “I’ll get back to greeting customers. We’re about to hit the busy period,”
True to the waiter’s word, people were beginning to enter in droves. He and his colleagues sat them as best they could, but a queue started to build up as the earlier diners were still taking their time. Andrelious continued to watch the entrance carefully, studying everybody carefully as they came in. After a while, he spotted a man with short, brown hair that seemed very familiar. Trimula Finsor had arrived! The Sith didn’t react immediately, deciding instead to bide his time. Pulling his blasters out in such an environment was not a wise plan, and using his lightsabers or the Force would be even less advisable.
Keep calm. Wait until he’s leaving and tail him.
-x-
About an hour after he had arrived, Trimula Finsor departed the Recklan Restaurant. Andrelious had spent the wait trying his best to keep the façade he presented as ‘Nautius Spreeks’ up as best he could, even as the alcohol in his system began to impair his ability to do so. Now that Finsor had left, however, the Warlord’s work was about to begin in earnest. His mission stipulations meant that the staff at the Recklan would have to die, too, but Mimosa-Inahj decided that could wait until after he had dealt with the former DIA operative.
Leaving as quickly as he could, Andrelious followed his prey as the bald headed male wound his way through alleys and streets. The Arconan could not ascertain exactly where Finsor was headed, but remembered to keep his distance, even ducking into the shadows if his target looked back, which he did fairly frequently. The route that Finsor was taking appeared to be particularly circuitous, and eventually Andrelious realised that this was deliberate – as an ex-intelligence agent, Finsor was an expert at shaking tails.
Eventually, Mimosa-Inahj’s objective reached a row of small houses. The Sith watched carefully as Finsor unlocked one of them, and disappeared inside. Andrelious didn’t even bother to try opening the door, knowing that his target’s behaviour and knowledge would have led him to lock it almost as soon as he had entered. Instead, the Warlord started to study the area around the house. It was in the middle of a row of terraces, and looked out onto a fairly busy thoroughfare. Any entry from the front would be easily detected, not only by Finsor but by local authorities who would not share Arcona’s views on their ex-operative. With this in mind, the Soulfire Captain headed around the block of housing to investigate the possibility of entering from the rear. On his way around, he noticed the door open again, but it was a female Zeltron who exited. Edging a little closer, Andrelious tried to get to within earshot as the local turned towards Finsor.
“I’ll see you soon, darling. Shall we go to the Giggling Twi’lek tonight?” the alien asked.
“I’m going to have to keep a bit of a low profile. A waiter there warned me someone was looking for me, and I’ve since heard that he has disappeared. We’d better stick to the Recklan. There’s no way that Defita would stand for people coming after me. She can be pretty damn feisty if she needs to be,” Finsor replied, kissing the female on her cheek softly.
“Can we at least have a dance somewhere nice? That is if you’re still able to handle a fun loving Zeltron,” the red-skinned Humanoid stated flirtatiously, winking at her apparent lover.
“Alright. We’ll stick around at the Recklan. It’s Defita’s dance night, so it’ll be crowded enough that we should be safe. I’d prefer if I had my weapons with me, though. I’m sure those damn Arconans have sent a man by now,” the Human said, peering around the area cautiously.
The two lovers shared another kiss, before separating, Finsor locking the door and the Zeltron heading away and into the city.
Andrelious had some planning to do.
-x-
After two long days of planning and more than a little partying with the locals, Andrelious reckoned he had worked out what he was going to do. He had observed Finsor and his girlfriend carefully, and noticed that they both worked to a fairly rigid routine. Both tended to keep a low profile for much of the day, but insisted on venturing out to the Recklan Restaurant, where they would meet with some others. Then, they would share a meal before heading home together.
Peering at his chrono, the Warlord recalled that the time for Finsor’s lover to head for her meal out was about to pass. As he watched his target’s home, the door opened and the Zeltron exited, as expected. The time had come for Andrelious to put the first part of his plan into action. The former Imperial stared at his prey, concentrating hard.
“You don’t need to lock your door. Just go,” Andrelious whispered, far too quietly for the female, or anybody else to hear him.
“I don’t need to lock my door. I’ll just go,” the alien mimicked, walking away. Mimosa-Inahj waited until she was out of sight, and wandered casually over to the unlocked door, opening it and entering the small apartment. Inside was a large amount of electronic equipment that the Warlord identified as being stolen from the DIA. He looked at his timepiece again. He had an hour.
With little hesitation, he keyed some buttons on his comlink. The small device crackled into life.
“I’m in. There’s several datapads, a couple of protocol droids and some other equipment that I think the Agency use to track people. What can I do with all that?” Andrelious asked into the comlink.
“Plenty of things I could do. But you don’t have my technical knowhow. Perhaps I should actually come there? I’m not really a fan of this hotel, dad.” Saskia answered. The Soulfire Captain had sent for his daughter overnight, feeling that she would be of use in this particular mission.
“No. I only have an hour or so. You wouldn’t get here in time. It takes at least fourty five minutes to walk here and that’s if you know the way. You don’t.” Mimosa-Inahj stated crossly.
“Alright. Can you tell me what model any of the datapads are?” the Epis queried.
“It’s whatever model the DIA use. He’s got about ten of the things. Timeros once told me there’s some kind of override password that detonates their datapads. I’m thinking of using that to get rid of this slippery bastard,” the ex-Rollmaster declared.
“You’d have to enter the code into all ten at once, I think. I was testing this – the explosion simply isn’t big enough, especially against a Force user like your target. All ten at once, and you have half a chance. If you can get me their serial numbers in time, I can insert an override program into my own datapad and send the code from here. Nice and comfortable. Just make sure you’re out of there. I’d hate to see my half-sisters grow up without their father.” Saskia stated, a little sarcasm creeping into her usual stoic tone.
“Alright. I’ll get you the numbers. Where are they located on a DIA datapad?” the Warlord questioned, picking up one of the datapads.
“Oh. And be careful how you hold them. They’re known to be coded to a finger-“
Saskia’s warning came too late. The datapad that Andrelious was holding started to heat up, whilst sounding a loud, ear piercing alarm. The Inquisitor threw the device to the ground, clutching his ears in a vain attempt to drown out the terrible noise. With a sense of panic, the former Rollmaster managed to reach for one of his blasters and fired it towards the wailing device, destroying it and restoring silence to the apartment.
“Thanks for telling me that. I think I’ll have Atyiru give me a medical when I get back. My ears hurt now,” Andrelious moaned.
“My father. Such a grumpy old man!” Saskia teased. “Try lifting them with the Force. I’ve worked out how to override the finger print coding as well.”
Mimosa-Inahj did as he had been asked, carefully levitating each device to where he could read its serial number. After around ten minutes of careful manoeuvring, where the Warlord made sure he returned each datapad to exactly where he had found it, Andrelious had the information that he needed.
“Ok. Give me a few seconds and- done! I’m in! When do you need the synchronised deletion to occur?” the female declared with a giggle that was almost stifled by the crackling comlink.
Andrelious realised that he needed to be precise. Finsor, as an ex-DIA agent, was likely to have a keen attention to detail, and would certainly notice that one of his prized datapads had been destroyed. He peered at his chrono.
“Exactly twenty minutes from now. ALL of them, remember. Will nine still be enough?” Andrelious queried.
Saskia chuckled again. We’ll have to hope so. Aren’t his weapons there? Why not just take those so he can’t fight back if this does fail?”
“I’m not prepared to risk finding any more frakking booby traps. Are the datapads set to blow?”
“Yes, dad. Twenty minutes, like you said,” the female replied.
“Good. I’m getting out of here. If this works we can be back home by tonight.”
-x-
The twenty minutes passed very slowly for Andrelious as he returned to his vantage point opposite Finsor’s home. As he waited, he drank a little from his hip flask, having had Rewsa fill it with a fresh batch of Corellian Brandy. As the time ticked by, the air turned a little warmer as the local sun continued its westward journey high in the Zeltros skyline.
Eventually, Mimosa-Inahj saw Finsor heading back towards his home, almost to the exact second as the other two days that the Warlord had observed his target.
Go in, you bastard. Go in and meet your fate.
Smiling as Finsor operated the lock, Andrelious relaxed a little as his target entered the apartment, noticing that the countdown was reaching zero.
“Goodbye, Agent Finsor. Give my regards to Sashar and Zandro,” the ex-Rollmaster stated coldly as he heard a loud explosion from inside his target’s residence.
As he went to check that his prey was indeed silenced, the Soulfire Captain felt a sudden need to turn around. Doing so, he immediately frowned at who he saw.
“You broke my replica droid. And wrecked my place. That was incredibly rude of you, Andrelious!” Finsor said, whilst pointing his twin vibro swords directly at the Warlord.
“So you knew that we were coming for you, and took precautions. They’ve not proven adequate to save you, Finsor. You’re still going to die. As will that unfortunate young girl that you’ve corrupted. Like them young, do you? She must be at least ten years your junior! Why do slimes like you always go for such younger women?” Andrelious hissed, not perturbed by the two swords that his target held. As he finished his short speech, the Warlord reached out with his right hand, hurling Finsor high into the air. As Mimosa-Inahj released his hold on the Force, the former agent was slammed hard into the wreckage of his home. The impact caused the slightly older Human to drop one of his vibro swords, which Andrelious called quickly to his hand whilst his prey recovered.
Standing up and gathering his composure, the fuming Finsor armed himself with one of his heavy blasters, firing several shots in the direction of Andrelious. He wondered why the Sith had not attempted to engage him in lightsaber combat, not understanding that his opponent had not brought his lightsabers to avoid the discovery of tell-tale burn wounds on his target, as per standard Contract Bureau practice.
With no lightsaber to block the incoming blaster bolt, Andrelious instead relied on his instincts, and held up the newly acquired vibro sword, allowing his enemy’s fire to collide and destroy its blade. The Warlord hurled the remnants of the weapon at Finsor, the Force speeding the velocity of the throw up a little more. The Arconan traitor ducked and easily evaded the makeshift attack, and re-drew his remaining sword, rushing in towards Andrelious. The Sith backed away, turning to run, but found his enemy was far faster on his feet despite his large size. Lacking any expertise in unarmed combat, Andrelious soon found himself in a very dangerous predicament. His blasters, as accurate as he was with them, were no use at such close range. Desperation growing, the Warlord called upon the dark side, generating a spark of electricity from the hand that was nearest to Finsor’s readied blade.
The electricity, small in amount, made contact with the metallic weapon. Running quickly along to the hilt, the jolt in power was enough to overload the sword’s ultrasonic vibration generator. Seeing what was happening, Finsor tossed the weapon away, moments before the overload caused the hilt to explode.
“Typical Sith. Always fighting with showy parlour tricks just to lengthen your miserable lives. Let’s see how if the Force can stop me doing THIS!” the Obelisk spat, flooring Andrelious with a powerful left hook. Finsor followed up by kicking his opponent. The kicks were well-aimed, and well timed, and the Warlord felt a number of ribs cracking, and soon found himself with a great deal of trouble breathing.
Stopping his attack, the former Arconan spy knelt down beside his wounded opponent.
“I’m letting you live for one reason only, Mimosa-Inahj. Because I want you to go back and tell Arcona that I’m retired now. At least from the dirty work that THEY wanted me to do. All the information I had to keep from everybody. It got too much. Now I’m free to share what I know with who I like!” Finsor declared, returning to his feet and beginning to walk away.
At that point, a large number of speeder bikes arrived, pulling into a tight, circular formation about the taller Human. The men that the bikes carried dismounted in almost perfect precision, pointing large blaster rifles directly at Finsor.
“One move and you’re dead, Erintar! You’re under arrest for armed robbery, theft of a speeder, bank fraud and murder!” one of them, his voice carrying a local accent.
“But, Captain, I’m just a law abiding migrant from Coruscant. You simply MUST have the wrong man.” Finsor stated, moving his hand in a way that Andrelious, even in his wounded state, could easily identify as an attempt to pull a mind trick on the assembled soldiers.
“Stand back. This is a law abiding migrant from Coruscant. We must have the wrong-“ the Captain began, but was silenced into horror as a blaster bolt zipped past, making contact with the back of Finsor’s neck.
“You! Drop it!” another soldier ordered of Andrelious, who complied, far too wounded to put up a reasonable fight.
-x-
After the dust had settled, Andrelious had begun to work his own mental manipulations. It hadn’t taken much effort to persuade the Zeltron Captain that he and his team had indeed caught up with the right man, although the Warlord wasn’t sure exactly who Finsor’s alias was supposed to have murdered. What had taken a little more time had been convincing the locals to let him off without charge – a bribe of several thousand credits had been required, with the Captain stating it was only because the man calling himself Erintar had been the ‘nastiest class of scum’ that he had even considered such an offer.
Healing the worst of his wounds as best he could, the Warlord struggled to his feet, grabbing his comlink.
“Saskia. I’m coming back to the hotel, then we’re going. I’ve not finished off Finsor’s associates, but I need medical help, and I obviously can’t get it here,” Andrelious stated, knowing that far too many questions would be asked at any local hospital. He’d have to accept his mission as only half completed and hope that that would prove enough for Sight and Celevon. The fact he’d spent nearly all of his allocation again would not be the first thing he would mention in his final report. He noted to have Saskia shift some figures around.
“One thing, Dad. Aren’t you curious about why Finsor was suddenly wanted for all those crimes?” the female asked, her tone betraying the fact she already knew.
“I’m going to imagine that my eldest daughter had something to do with it. A father knows. Even if he didn’t for twenty-two years.”
“Hehe, you found me out! Let’s just say I hacked into the local criminal database, and added a few high-level crimes for our old friend. I think that means I should get the plaudits, though!” Saskia giggled.
“We’ll talk about that on the way home. You’ll do well to remember that I’m still the one who actually killed him. What we actually need to do is make sure that we have some kind of proof. The locals took the body away before I could retrieve anything,” Andrelious stated.
With a number of interesting issues to consider, the Soulfire Captain began a slow and slightly painful walk back to the spaceport.
But, most importantly, Trimula Finsor was dead.
