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[June Pilot] Contract 009: Adam - Security, B-Class

RowenaMagnuri

ACB Contract Offices
Lower Levels, Arcona Citadel
Estle City, Selen

The Prelate stretched, resisting the urge to light another smoke. His salvation came in the form of a knock on his doorframe. A brunette man with green eyes stood in the opening. Celevon inhaled, focusing on the currents of the Force. Within the blink of an eye, his vision had altered.

The Knight was in almost perfect balance between dark and light, a constant shifting shade of gray. It was almost like watching Yin and Yang. The darkened shroud began to overtake the Marauder before a beam of light prevailed, pushing the darkness back. Celevon blinked again as he released his hold on the Force. It had only been but a second, a glimpse into the younger man before him.

“Adam, do come in. Can I offer you a drink?” the Assassin queried, gesturing to the tumbler and set of glasses behind his desk.

“No, thank you. As you may have guessed, I’m here for a job,” the Corellian replied, a serene feel about him.

“I think I have something just for you,” the Equite smirked.

The newly instated Battleteam Leader caught the thrown holodisk with a semi-controlled web of Force energy. Rather than stopping, the projectile slowly hovered to the Marauder’s grasp, showcasing the increasing control the former Jedi had over the Force.

Mission: Security, B-Class
Target: Treyu Alber, Human Female, Aged 29 Years
Specifics: Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to protect this woman at all costs. You will serve as her bodyguard during the entire time she is in the system, which should last all of three days.
Suspected Resistance: Unknown. This woman has many enemies. You will be protecting her from everything possible. If you two go to a club and someone makes an unwanted advance and won’t take no for an answer, you should… dissuade him or her. Forcibly.

“Dare I ask why this woman is so important? I sincerely hope I won’t be wasting my time with some simple babysitting mission…” the Knight drawled snarkily, looking supremely unamused.

“She’s quite wealthy and has required our services before, though not in this manner. She pays quite well and is loyal to us. I personally believe she’s attracted to Marick and is hoping he will bed her, but that’s neither here nor there. She has requested one of ours to ensure her protection whilst she’s in the system. Your job is to make certain she stays safe through it all. Who knows? You may even learn a few tricks along the way,” Celevon smirked. “Do the job and contact me once she leaves our borders.”

“What kind of work has she contracted us to do before?” the Marauder asked curiously after standing.

“Let’s just say that would be my area of expertise,” the Onderonian grinned, slipping a dagger out of his sleeve before twirling it between his fingers.

RowenaMagnuri

Current Grade: -2 [Incomplete]

Status: Reactivated

AdemBolera

Giletta Spaceport
Estle City Outskirts, Selen
Day 1, 1100 hours

The small shuttle quietly passed through the underground tunnels on its way to the spaceport. Most of the inhabitants remained silent, huddling themselves and their belongings close to the door, no doubt eager to move on to the next transport. From their fairly modest dress, one might guess them to be prospective miners, off to seek fortune harvesting the various precious resources littered across the Dajorra system.

Only two passengers were not among the cluster, instead quietly sitting in the back, occasionally regarding each other in tones that the others couldn’t hear, and likely didn’t care to.

One of the duo was a tall, imposing figure wrapped in a tattered olive drab and brown cloth, lightly patterned amongst the numerous small holes in the worn wrappings. Most of its body was concealed in the cloak, save for two luminous yellow lights emanating from its head. Its gaze was unfriendly and piercing, and spoke to no one but its master, a human male who sat opposite to the droid.

By comparison, the young Corellian man cut a much more inviting figure than his partner, his lightly handsome features usually forming an easy smile upon being stared at, before returning his gaze to the datapad in his lap. His clothing, a long coat wrapped around a flight jacket, had some passengers assuming him to be a smuggler, though others pointed out the apparent lack of a blaster on his person. Some noticed the oddity of a chain wrapped around his left wrist, but quickly arrived at the conclusion that they were better off getting off the transport as soon as possible and forgetting this man and his frightening companion by the time they had loaded all their belongings onto their next ship. The pilot of the transport had noticed the paralyzing quiet, and had even attempted to play tour guide and crack jokes on the trip, but soon he too was consumed by the tense atmosphere and went silent all the way to the end of the line.

Finally, the shuttle stopped and opened its doors to the right, the other passengers quickly filing out the door, the last stumbling out as they took a final glance at the droid, only to find its penetrating amber gaze glaring right back at them. The Corellian man sighed, stowing away his datapad.

“You make rides like this an absolute chore,” Adam Bolera finally said to the droid as he stood and stretched his lean, athletic build.

“I enjoy making organics uncomfortable,” the droid explained in a seemingly amused monotone, “it provides a quiet atmosphere.”

“You want quiet,” Adam replied as he moved up the shuttle, dropping a handful of credits into the lap of the surprised pilot, “consider going where people aren’t. Might be less chance of someone calling the police.” The droid followed, taking the suggestion under advisement as they stepped out onto the landing pad. The air smelled of a coming storm, the sky preparing to open up and release its content of cleansing rain. Dozens of other ships were coming or going at a more feverish pace in anticipation of inclement flight weather. A few cargo workers infrequently dropped packages as they struggled to move fast enough to offload new arrivals. The tall droid seemed fascinated with the sea of motion that surrounded it, as it circled its gaze with curious intent. Adam needed to regain its attention.

“Echo,” his voice snapped the droid back to reality, “give me the mission one more time.”

“Treyu Alber,” the droid responded right on cue, having practiced reciting the mission several million times in its own head, “package is to remain secure throughout three day stay in system. Have taken the liberty of slicing into several crime databases in which her name has been recorded.Target of several recent assassination contracts. Thirty two attempts by second rate hired guns, eight by professionals, two by top-tier bounty hunters…” A popular woman, must have been into some dangerous things to have drawn such attention. Adam had read the dossier a few times on the way, interested in the esoteric personal details of his charge. Celevon had mentioned her attraction to Marick, and Adam wondered whether or not he was going to be pulled into the swirling pit of intrigue, deception and violence that was his Clan leader’s practically non-existent romantic life.

“Master, her last three bodyguards have all died in her service within a year.”

“Not bad runs.” Adam said, paying the warnings little heed.

“Within the same year. All three of them.”

“Mehhhhh…When’s her transport coming in? What’s she flying?”

“Within the next five minutes. Lambda class shuttle.” the droid deadpanned the statement, while Adam whistled, impressed. Anyone who could both find and afford an unaffiliated T4-A shuttle almost four decades after the war was well off indeed. Sure enough, the telltale folding wings soon cut their way across the sky as Alber’s arrival grew closer at hand. It had been painted differently from the bone-white the Empire preferred, now striped with blue and black and what appeared to be a crest, though Adam could not make out its details from his distance.

“Cursory scans indicate no explosives present.” Echo chimed in again, “our charge is not yet in danger.”

“I expect that to change within the next hour,” Adam replied, the cynicism in his tone a product of some experience with escorts. The wings folded up in their unmistakable manner, and only moments later did the ramp lower to the landing pad.

A long, lean figure was wrapped in blue and gold, an elegantly crafted garb that flowed with the movement of its wearer and covered with patterns indicative of a master tailor. The slender length of woman the cloth swaddled was a masterpiece herself; deep hazel eyes were set in an angular face that wore a confident, almost arrogant expression, framed by long strands of thick scarlet hair. Her strides were deliberate, almost measured, as though she had planned every walk of her day with precision and care. Her eyes bore straight into Adam’s skull, to the point he had paid no attention to the exit of any other occupants of the shuttle. Treyu Alber had arrived in force.

“You’re the bodyguard?” she asked, finally stopping between Adam and Echo, the droid leaving the answer to its decidedly less focused master.

“That’s the rumor.” Adam did his best to shunt anxiety with humor. Something about this woman aside from her beauty stirred him, in ways he loved and loathed.

“I was expecting someone…”

“Taller?”

“Marick. I was expecting Marick for this job.” Well, she did think highly of herself.

“He’s a busy man, Lady Alber, I’m sure he would if he could spare the-”

“Relax!” she laughed, her approach to humor having now sufficiently rubbed Adam incorrectly, “You’re taking me far too seriously. Come, I’m going to treat you to a favorite tea house of mine before I run my errands here.” She spun on a heel, walking quickly to a transport into the city. Adam quickly followed with Echo trailing closely behind, the curious droid preparing a menagerie of questions on organic interactions.

“Master,” it asked with the innocence of a child, “you seem disturbed.”

“It’s not a problem Echo,” Adam answered, “it’s just…”

“This assignment may prove more difficult than anticipated?” the droid suggested eagerly. Echo really wanted to shoot something, and soon.

“No, the assignment should take care of itself.” Adam laughed, and considered for a moment
before answering, “I’ve just determined that Marick is out of his mind.”

The first rain droplets slowly dotted the pavement as the trio approached their destination, distant thunderclaps suggesting they get inside soon. A half-hour shuttle ride back into the city was filled mostly with awkward silence, during which Adam and Echo busied themselves repeatedly checking the transport for bombs in order to avoid talking to Treyu. Adam felt disrupted by this woman, and he was attempting to work out exactly what it was with the silence. These efforts ultimately proved fruitless, as they passed through the doors of the teahouse and Treyu reserved a back room merely by holding up two fingers to the startled Twi’lek barman, as though the place owed her something. They were led behind a thin set of curtains where the floor shifted to soft carpet, Treyu motioning for Adam to remove his boots and sit at a small table that sat mere inches from the floor. Echo waited just outside the curtain, leaning against a post and watching the door. Treyu sat as though she were a satisfied cat, upright and eyes narrowed, perfectly at home. Adam shifted a few times in a vain effort to get comfortable, then reluctantly met her eyes.

“Oh, this simply won’t do,” Treyu began, finally tiring of Adam’s reticence, “are you familiar with tea?”

“More than you’d think,” Adam replied, tired of dodging his charge. He had two and a half more days with her to go, after all. “Jedi training meant that most of what you’d drink was water and dirt.”

“Crude, but fairly accurate, by my understanding. I’ll order something to relax you; a favorite Corellian blend of mine.”

“How did you-”

“Don’t play coy, I hand-picked you for this job, all the joking aside.” Treyu’s earthy eyes almost seemed to be challenging Adam now. “Read what the Arconae were willing to provide on you. I can’t think of anything they don’t have at least an awareness of, what with all their resources. My wealth is modest in comparison to their dominion over the system.”

“They’re getting by. Somebody mentioned you’d contracted us for work before?”

“Oh, Celevon is an absolute dear, not who I’d request as a bodyguard though.” She crossed her legs and began again. “An assassin’s brand of subtlety is not benefited by publicly defending someone like myself. He does better when anonymously slipped information on someone I deem an undesirable for a variety of reasons, and within a few days, no one speaks their name again.”

“Speaking of you,” Adam shifted the interrogation, “what’s your story? What exactly have you done to be such a popular woman in the underworld?” She leaned back to consider for a moment, before quietly thanking the server that arrived with the pot and cups.

“I suppose it’s safe to say that I didn’t come by my wealth very honestly. A few fortunes and Hutt hoards have disappeared during my time, and I may have had something to do with a handful of them a few years ago.” She took a long sip from her cup, before lowering it again and smiling with a certain
nostalgic satisfaction. “Time was, I had a knack for slicing systems and keeping myself from harm, and the skills I have today just came with a few more years.” Adam had a difficult time imagining this woman, who had the look of Hapan nobility, pulling herself up by her criminal bootstraps, but he didn’t sense a trace of deception. He took a sip of the tea, still hot in his palm. It tasted of home, the grasses he smelled outside the bustling Corellian cities. He drank in longer, before lowering it to the small table again.

“So, why am I here? What are you doing, and who will be coming for us?”

“On to the business already? Just like one of Marick’s.”

“It’s cute.”

“What?” She cringed at the use of the word, believing such phrases to be patronizing.

“Your little crush on him.”

“Oh, come off it, now we’re definitely moving on to business.” Treyu rolled her eyes, unamused at having the teasing tables turned on her. “Essentially, I’m preparing a soiree of sorts at my estate on Gethsemane come the day after tomorrow. I’ve come here to ensure my operations are running smoothly,” she pulled out a datapad concealed somewhere in her dress, “which they are, and make sure the traps are in place.”

“Traps?”

“Oh, it’s simple, really. Every noble in the system has been invited, you see. It means that they’ll all be inside my home, where I can access the electronics available on their person and in their ships, and scrounge up countless details of personal information, which can be used to our advantage.”

“Our advantage?” This sounded rather far fetched, and extremely dangerous to Adam. He knew little about slicing and slicers himself, aside from the fact that they were the deadliest people in the galaxy from an economic, electronic and political perspective.

“It’s a mutually beneficial relationship for us, as I pass useful information on to Arcona, as payment of course. In return, you protect me and my interests from those who… harbor some ill will for me.” Treyu smiled once again, taking another victorious drink and finishing her cup as she imparted her plan. “Those parties, I believe we’ll meet in the next few minutes.”

“That so?” The Force helped Adam’s mind to spread itself around the room like a net, searching for hostile intents or emotions that had recently come inside. Nothing had come yet.

“I don’t expect much here, aside from the amateurs, maybe one or two professional assassins. You should make short work of them today. Tomorrow will be spent mostly in transit, traveling slowly across the system is better for hiding, you understand. The gathering itself will be where the real fun begins.”

“You have an interesting perspective on fun.”

“Don’t pretend we don’t share it.” Still confidently smirking, Treyu was pleased to see that Adam smiled back at the remark. He tensed up again as the Force net he spread across the room was disturbed by hostile intent.

“I think we’re about to meet your friends.” he said, reaching for the hilt of his lightsaber.

“Human, tattoos all over his head, face only a mother could love? Accompanied by an equally ugly Zabrak wingman?”

“How did you-”

“I sliced your droid’s visual input,” Treyu answered, waving her datapad. “Try to avoid using the very conspicuous Jedi tricks, please. For now, just crack a skull or two, standard bodyguard job description. I can handle myself, worry about staying alive on your part.” Now she was taunting him, asking Adam to prove himself with a show of force. She’d get it. He slipped his boots back on, and raised the teacup to his lips one more time, slowly drinking in the last of the warm, grassy Corellian blend as the Force laid out the next split seconds before his mind.

Exactly as Adam anticipated, a hand ripped down the curtain partitioning his and Treyu’s table from the rest of the teahouse. Adam hurled his now-empty cup with additional telekinetic force, shattering it on the face of the human aggressor. Treyu hired an Arconan, and Adam sought to remind her what she would sacrifice by contracting anyone else. Echo had already moved on the Zabrak, lifting him in the air with a single arm and smashing his head through a table. The human was staggered and scarred by the porcelain shards he was trying to pick out of his face, but doggedly continued his mission. One blood spattered hand produced a vibroknife, which he began clumsily jabbing at Adam in the way that most knife fights appear. The Jedi was done humoring the would be hitman, wrapping an arm around his wrist and twisting his shoulder and the weapon behind his back, hearing the sickening crack of dislocation. The sound of blaster fire shattered the remaining quiet as bolts of superheated tibanna ripped into the thug’s chest, slumping out of Adam’s grasp. Treyu stood with a DH-17 in hand where she sat only moments before. Full of surprises indeed.

“I’m sure they have friends coming, check the street outside.” she said, not bothering to elaborate on her shooting abilities. Adam supposed they spoke for themselves, before the Force telegraphed the actions of another aggressor. One of the walls near the entrance was especially thin, easy to shoot through with any weapon. This would have been the course of action another hitman would have taken, had Adam not crashed through the same wall and slammed his face into the rain-slick pavement. He flicked out his chain, swinging it in a sweeping, wild arc at an arriving Rodian gunman, who was unable to get a shot on the erratically moving target in time to avoid being cracked across the face and telekinetically thrown through a window.

“Master!” Echo loudly verbalized just before a blaster bolt ripped into the street just inches from Adam. The droid immediately tracked the trajectory to the point of origin, and produced its favored weapon; a modified DC-15 rifle, fitted for longer range shots. Two rounds leapt from its barrel, ripping into the distant sniper, and he slowly rolled over the edge of the rooftop he fired from and crashed down onto the street. Echo lowered its rifle, and Adam smiled at it briefly as Treyu dusted herself off and walked out onto the ruined storefront. The irony of the use of a clone trooper’s rifle did not escape Echo, but its effectiveness was undeniable.

The sound of repulsor engines filled the street when two swoop bikes appeared at one end, rapidly barrelling towards the group.

“Want the guy on the right?” Adam turned to ask Echo, who gladly raised its rifle to aim. Adam rushed forward towards his target, who clumsily fired blaster shots while flying the swoop, amazed that the Jedi was actually charging the vehicle. Adam projected a telekinetic field to slow the vehicle as they approached each other, with the thug furiously revving the bike to try and counteract the effect as he watched Echo’s shots tear through his partner. Adam let the Force carry him forward as he leapt towards a wall, kicking off of it and flying toward the remaining rider, chain in hand. The links wrapped around his neck as Adam sailed over his head and yanked him to the ground with great force, the whiplash immediately snapping his neck on the way down. The bikes crashed to the wet street and skidded to a halt.

“Fancy a ride back to the shuttle?” Treyu suggested, lifting one upright. “I think we’re done here.”

“I’m driving.” Adam said, smiling greedily at the bike.

The storm had picked up, and so had the Estle traffic near the tunnel leading back to the spaceport. The bikes bobbed and weaved through the lines of speeders, Adam and Treyu on one and Echo on the other. Somehow, word of the violence had not yet reached police forces, but it had certainly drawn the attention of more of the assassins in Estle that still hunted Treyu. A speeder bike slashed through traffic to try and get close to Adam and Treyu, only to have the rider swiftly cut down by precise, measured shots from Echo. Another sidled up to them on the left, aiming a Westar and grinning smugly as he lined up his shot. Adam wiped the grin off his face with a swipe of his chain, smashing his teeth and sending him screaming off his bike and crashing into a speeder several stories below him.

“Forget what I said earlier,” Treyu shouted over the fugue of the chaos around her. “the Jedi tricks will scare most of them out of action, conspicuous or not.”

“You’ve seen nothing yet,” Adam chuckled, reaching for his lightsaber as two more speeders, one of them car sized approached. The sage glow of the blade snapped to life just as Adam telekinetically hurled it towards the rear engines of the larger speeder. The whirling loop of plasma cut straight through one, causing the vehicle to shudder and lose speed, before the weapon swung wide again and changed trajectory for the assassin on the bike, cutting his head clear from his body.

“Hm,” Treyu said, speechless upon witnessing Arconan capabilities.

“Not finished,” Adam yelled as he relinquished the controls. “Hold this for me, would you?” He stood up on the bike, eyeing the larger speeder again as it grew closer.

“Are you insane?” Treyu asked, dumbstruck for once in her life as she grasped for the handlebars.

“Likely so!” Adam replied, leaping from the bike and taking to the firmament as he twisted through the air. His saber whirled back to his hand as he fixed his vision on the speeder again, reaching his free hand into a pouch for the ball bearings inside. A telekinetic shotgun blast ripped into the windshield the two assassins sat behind. While unharmed, they couldn’t see anything through the spidery network of cracked glass. The passenger looked to his left to laugh at the luck of himself and his driver, before something else crashed onto the hood and a sliver of emerald light pierced right through the glass and punctured the driver’s chest. Before the passenger could even reach for his weapon, invisible fingers reached through the cracked glass, wrapping around him and hurling him out of the vehicle to his end.
Adam leapt back to the swoop bike and Treyu with a Force assisted jump, retaking the controls as Treyu attempted to hide being more impressed than she’d ever been. A look to the distance snapped her attention back to the situation at hand.

“Kark!” she yelled.

“Hardly how a lady should speak, princess.”

“Police are on the way, trying to cut us off before the spaceport.” she said, pointing at an upcoming intersection. “Head there; I have an idea to get them off our tail.”

“I won’t kill police.” Adam growled.

“So we won’t. Just stopping them, trust me.” she reassured Adam, while pulling out her datapad, of all things. Adam gunned the bike as they rushed through the intersection, when the traffic indicator in the center began acting strangely, giving the signal to proceed in all four directions. Police speeders wailed from one of the directions, before they were consumed by the lines of vehicles careening into each other in the confusion. The disarray of countless accidents bought the odd trio of Dark Jedi, Magnaguard and criminal royalty ample time to slip into the tunnel leading to the Giletta Spaceport, and disappear from Estle City.

AdemBolera

The Shrike, Treyu Alber’s Personal Shuttle
Somewhere in the Dajorra System, bound for Gethsemane
Day 2, 1800 hours

If the outside of Treyu’s shuttle seemed extravagant, the interior was extremely luxurious by comparison. The floors had actually been carpeted and the lighting adjusted for a homier ambience. The troop transport bay had been compartmentalized into different living quarters and facilities, albeit a little cramped since the hull itself would need to be resized otherwise. Evidently Treyu had a particular affinity for tea, as the scent of still more of it brewing not only filled the air, but seemed sunk into the rooms themselves. Adam had been given the guest quarters, which featured fewer stylistic embellishments but was still designed with comfort in mind. A set of formal wear had been laid out for him, recently sewn by master Hapan tailors. Primarily a mixture of steely gray and dark brown, it was also embellished with green cloth in the form of a sash and belt, featuring a pattern of what appeared to be both hawk feathers and windblown leaves. Adam would have found the micromanaging habits of his charge to be an issue on most days, but she seemed to be enjoying herself a great deal, and he doubted it did him any real harm. He sat in the floor of his quarters, attempting to center his mind, though the softness of the carpet actually proved disruptive to meditation, and more conducive to sleep. He felt Treyu’s increasingly familiar presence pass through the doorway.

“I took it upon myself to bring you something to drink,” she said, the tone of her voice and the nature of the act indicating gratitude.

“More tea?” Adam asked, sleepily.

“Naturally. Is this what Jedi meditation looks like?”

“Um… yes, sure, absolutely that’s what it is.”

“Hm,” she mused, “strikes me as more of a Jedi catnap.” Both of them laughed.

“You’d be right.” He did notice himself nodding off a number of times. “What’s my droid up to?”

“Last I heard,” Treyu answered, seating herself on the bed and laying the tray of tea next to her, “Echo was fumbling around the engines looking for bombs again, though I suspect that’s because it doesn’t like the outfit I put together for it, and would rather avoid trying it on.”

“Don’t mind him, he’s something of an austere type.”

“Him?” Treyu seemed puzzled at Adam’s use of pronouns regarding Echo.

“Echo, the droid.” He tried to explain, as his own feelings on addressing his partner were complicated unto themselves. “People identify pretty easily with protocol droids and even astromechs a lot of the time, because they’re designed that way. Echo, being a…”

“Battle droid?”

“Smarter than that,” Adam corrected. “But yes, essentially a deathbot. The IG-100 is one of the most intelligent droid types ever developed, and they learn in addition to that. Droids get smart enough, they might as well be people, they just do a poor job of it. So why not talk to them and about them like people?”

“Interesting philosophy,” Treyu considered, “though I have noticed that you address Echo as ‘him’ and ‘it’ rather inconsistently.”

“He’s just ‘it’ when I’m mad at him.”

“You two,” Treyu chuckled, “are easily the most bizarre pair of friends I’ve ever seen.”

“At least you get the point, ‘friend’ is the exact word for what he is, and what he needs to understand that he is.” Adam took gentle sips of the piping tea, growing increasingly fond of the flavors of home. “Sure that such oddball partners aren’t going to make a mess of your party?”

“At this point, I’d say that’s a foregone conclusion, and it won’t be any fault of your own. You will need to make sure that unruly and uninvited guests are…”

“Escorted out?”

“Something like that, though I expect they won’t be civil enough for it to be that simple.” She gave a cursory glance over her datapad once more, which seemed to be on her person at all times. “I was impressed by your capabilities yesterday; that is not a compliment I give freely.”

“I try.”

“Well, you trying must have neutralized half a dozen trained killers that had been on my trail for months now, much more than my other bodyguards could claim.”

“Their achievements were…what exactly?” Adam asked, morbidly curious.

“Oh, one was essentially vaporized, another gutted and buried alive in a shallow grave. I won’t mention what happened to the second one; Hutts are sadistic worms, that’s all you need to know.” Curiosity satisfied, unfortunately. Treyu’s curiosity, however, was still probing at Adam; having never really conversed at length with a trained Force sensitive, she couldn’t stand the mystery of who the Corellian man was. “I’m interested in your lightsaber, would you show me?”

“Aren’t lewd euphemisms unbecoming of a lady of your status?” Adam replied impishly.

“Grow up and show me the damn weapon. “Treyu lowered her eyebrows and formed a humorously irritated expression, “I was just starting to like you.”

“Can’t have that.” Adam grinned as he telekinetically drew the hilt to his hand, then floated it before Treyu’s eyes.

“A very elegant design,” she said, running her fingers across the polished wood on the grip, “one of your own?”

“Made for me by the Summit, but it’s inspired future aspirations for designs.”

“Hobby of yours?”

“Somewhat. Not an engineer outside of lightsabers, but I know every part in here by name and what its purpose is.” He then concentrated for a moment, slowly disassembling the hilt and scattering the pieces in midair, holding them fairly steady as he described each piece and its function to Treyu. This continued for many hours, whiling away the remainder of the trip to Gethsemane until they arrived late in the night.

AdemBolera

Treyu Alber’s Estate
Gethsemane Highlands
Day 3, 1900 Hours

The daytime seemed to pass in almost an instant as preparations were made across the lavish home Treyu had established with her fortune. Adam made no effort to hide the fact that he was impressed with the aesthetics of the place, while Echo tried to understand the value of aesthetics; much of the architecture was remarkably esoteric, the product of a marriage between the minds of artists and engineers.

The main element was solid and angular stone structures, consisting largely of marble and other expensive quarried building materials. These were accompanied by bizarre contortions of glass, forming hallways and balconies and other rooms guided more by organic flow than deliberate design, as though they were shaped by the whims of flowing water that suddenly froze in time to let people live within it. Small gardens were peppered across the property inside and out, some featuring stone arrangements and small ponds, others with groomed sand and blossoming trees of countless alien species.

The elegance of the place lent an atmosphere of pure serenity to fall over the home, and Adam felt completely at peace and alone with the Force and his thoughts, even in the cacophony of the beginning of the party as guests rapidly poured inside. Echo, however, seemed agitated as they prepared to escort Treyu herself out into the main atrium from her hidden computer chamber. Adam calmly leaned against the wall as Treyu put the finishing touches on her data heist, before looking at the nervous droid and filling the room with his laughter.

“Echo, the whole point of a party is to relax a bit, and you’re coiled like a spring.”

“In case your memory banks are damaged,” Echo replied curtly, “we have an assignment that we must not take lightly. That, and I look ridiculous.” Again, Adam laughed, though louder this time. Echo’s outfit wasn’t unlike the droid’s normal attire of a full body cloak, though its color was similar to that of Treyu’s wrappings of the other day. Red and blue flowed around the droid’s tall and skeletal frame, swaddling it in the finest of materials, though it seemed to make Echo more uncomfortable than it had ever been.

“You look like a droid would as Hapan royalty, how can you complain about that?” Adam asked, still teasing Echo, who had yet to grasp that facet of humor.

“It is highly conspicuous, no camouflage potential. I would be more effective with a firing position in the hills.”

“You sound like Gunstinson,” Adam sighed. “Hide behind one of the curtains or something, shoot from there. I’m sure our lady won’t mind.”

“On the contrary,” Treyu chimed in, whirling around in her seat, “please focus more on damaging our would-be assassins rather than the furniture, if it isn’t too much trouble. In case it’s not abundantly clear yet, this setup isn’t exactly cheap.” Treyu’s look for the evening was inspired by recent events and made possible by the rapid work of the tailors she had on hand. Her theme of flowing cloth persisted, as the sea green silk seemed to shift and rush like the ocean it symbolized as she moved, and appeared similar to the glass structures around the estate whenever she stood still. Her crimson hair had been braided and lay draped over her left shoulder, its lightly sun-kissed skin now exposed, along with her arms below the elbow, her neck, and a tasteful amount of cleavage shown as well. Ever the tease. A bundle of bronze ribbon concealed her blaster, and her home was rigged with countless traps that only her datapad could access. It had become abundantly clear that she would only ask for additional protection beyond her own means if she deemed it absolutely necessary.

“Time to greet my public,” she sighed as she stretched her arms in the chair, then got to her feet and cast her eyes to Adam. “Ready to dance?”

“Well, if the shooting starts a little after halfway through, I think we’ll be fine.”

“Sarcasm is hardly reassuring, but I suppose it’s all I can ask for.” she said, holding out her elbow in a loop for Adam’s arm.

“Bodyguard and your arm candy for the night?” he laughed, “Too many complicated jobs at once.”

“Stop flattering yourself and walk me into the atrium already, before I shoot you myself.”

“Your wish is my command, milady.”

The atrium was already filled with Dajorra’s nobles, who had arrived an hour early in hopes of going into business with the lady of the house, or any other array of requests that she would turn down. Still out of their view, she checked her datapad one last time.

“Perfect,” she said as she smiled at the text scrolling up the screen, “I already have backdoors into all their bank accounts. Next will be a few things for my blackmail library.”

“Sounds like lovely midnight reading.” Adam remarked, roughly half his attention paid to conversation, the other half to probing the crowd’s emotional state for those that might match that of an assassin. He reached for the radio hidden beneath his collar. “How’s your view from the balcony, Echo?”

“Optimal,” the droid’s voice replied in a distorted manner from Adam’s radio, “I can make precise shots on targets with little risk of collateral damage. Just designate my prey.”

“Down boy, I’ll tell you when.” Adam looked to Treyu again, “Time to face your public, music’s starting.”

“Remember the steps, and try not to enjoy yourself too much.” She led him into the atrium, where much of the crowd turned in their direction. She placed Adam’s hand on her waist, hers on his shoulder, and started the gradual turns the dance called for. Adam’s mind focused itself on scanning the crowd as their faces whirled around him, sensing nervousness, frustration, anticipation… or perhaps the lack thereof. Assassins were trained to suppress their fear, their anxiety, and even their sense of self-preservation for the sake of completing the job. Almost every member of the crowd had some trace of fear, it was only natural to be uncertain about the inevitability of death. Adam’s mind fixed itself on one presence, and his eyes looked into those of a blue, fearless void. Wrapped in dark grey and wearing a red sash, this hitman was posing as an officer, and only one of his arms was in front of him as he broke from the crowd and began walking towards the dancing couples.

“Echo, prep a shot on this guy, think he’s going to rush us.” Adam hissed into his radio.

“Not just him. Several others are preparing their moves. He will be the first.”

“Sorry, miss, looks like our fun’s already over.”

“How tragic,” Treyu replied, moving one hand to her blaster, “go ruin their nights, too.”

Echo took his shot, the rifle bolt searing through the dark man’s skull, the force of the impact taking him to the ground. The crowd scattered in fear as the atrium was plunged into chaos. Out of the panicked masses burst three more opponents, brandishing vibroweapons and rapidly closing the distance between themselves and Adam. Treyu killed one with several blaster shots as Echo landed next to her, now holding its electrostaff and shielding her with its body. Adam snapped his lightsaber to life as one hitman rushed him with his sword, the killer’s sweeping diagonal strike having already played out in Adam’s head. The Jedi leaned backwards as the vibrating edge swept over his chest, then he spun around backwards and swung the back of his foot into the surprised assassin’s head, sending him reeling to the floor. His compatriot changed direction, wisely deeming the bodyguard a threat that needed to be eliminated. Adam pounced for one of the nearby columns, kicking off and sailing into the air as the assassin watched in awe of the acrobatic display. Adam crashed back to earth, his saber blade burning straight through the hitman’s spine.

“Eyes to the sky, Master!” Echo loudly called to Adam as it grappled with another assassin, before hurling him over its shoulder and jabbing one end of the electrostaff against his chest, violently electrocuting the man to death. Adam followed the droid’s advice as a figure cut its way across the sky, suspended in air by what appeared to be a jetpack. A closer look revealed some measure of Durasteel armor, worn by a clear Fett wannabe with a cheaply built booster pack, who began taking potshots at the group with his E-11 rifle. Treyu herself fired back several times before Echo shielded her with its body, wrapping her underneath its cloak to protect her from the reprisal. Adam danced around the bolts as they scorched the marble floor, hurling his lightsaber at the would-be bounty hunter, who barely managed to outmaneuver the whirling blade.

The attack bought Adam time to scamper up a nearby pillar and pull himself up onto a railing, meeting two more assassins who thought to use the height to their advantage. He swung his legs round underneath his hands, knocking one man to the floor and sending the other reeling, before springing off his hands and smashing the grounded man’s face into the floor with his heels. The other was unceremoniously hurled from the higher floor by a telekinetic grasp.

More blaster fire from the bounty hunter peppered the floor, chasing behind Adam as he dashed past the archways before disappearing around a corner and showing up again one floor higher. Windows and the glass structures making up the hallway shattered as the blaster fire ripped into them, and Adam wreathed himself in a telekinetic field to carry a few of them behind him. He would spin to face the bounty hunter, hurling a shard or two at him as he passed an opening. Adam even began adding in Force based acrobatic flourishes to his evasion, running along walls and flipping away from the hail of fire with seemingly no effort, something that increasingly frustrated the shooter. He began wildly firing grenades, knocking holes in the walls and scattering rubble as Adam danced past and took the chase to the roof. Ceramic shingles broke and flew into the air as the pursuit continued, and Adam had the bounty hunter exactly where he wanted him, having only bought time for his droid to get into position.

“Echo, do it!” he shouted into his radio, as he turned and charged the edge of the roof. A metallic hand ripped through the air and clamped itself around the bounty hunter’s belt, yanking him backward and holding him in place. Adam hurled several ball bearings in a focused telekinetic blast, a column of them slamming into his chest, denting the armor and ripping through exposed material. Stunned, the bounty hunter let the rifle slip from his hands, and Adam leapt from the edge of the roof, the distance of the jump augmented by the Force. He tackled the Fett wannabe in midair, clinging to the straps on his armor as Echo reeled its arm back in and slammed them back to the floor. Both men sustained injuries in the fall as they crashed on their sides, but Adam let the Force replace the pain and focused more on subduing the bounty hunter, which he did by forcefully pressing him against the wall with a telekinetic grip.

“Who sent you?” Adam growled as he pointed the emerald saber at the helmeted man’s throat. No answer came, suggesting that his reluctance came from fear of reprisal at revealing his employer’s identity. Suddenly, the bounty hunter convulsed as a blaster bolt pierced his neck, then slid down the wall, dead. Adam turned to see Treyu, blaster pistol in hand.

“What a mess they’ve made,” she sighed. Adam glowered at her.

“You didn’t have to kill him,” he said, confused, “he could have given you information.”

“Nothing I didn’t already know,” she replied, waving her datapad, “his bargaining chip was gone the moment he sent communications back to the Hutts that hired him.”

“Still…”

“Oh, relax, you should know by now that there’s nothing I’m unaware of. Now, come, there’s a party still underway.”

“What about the guests?” Adam asked, truly puzzled now.

“I daresay this is not likely the first assassination attempt that many of them have witnessed,” she laughed, “I’m sure they’ll calm right down and get back to the business of mingling.”

“Whatever you say, Lady Alber.” Adam answered mechanically.

“That won’t do. I’d say you can drop the bodyguard lexicon and switch over to dance partner for the remainder of the night.” she replied, taking his arm again, “Oh, and please, stick to Treyu. I came this far for the money, not the nauseating titles.”

“Sounds like my kind of party, Treyu.”

“Better.”

ACB Contract Offices
Lower Levels, Arcona Citadel
Estle City, Selen

Adam passed quietly through Celevon’s door, which still laid open exactly the way he had left it days before, giving another gentle knock on the frame to indicate his presence. Celevon placed his datapad on the desk and smiled.

“Good to see you alive,” he said enthusiastically, “death follows that woman like a clingy lapdog.”

“Funny that you say that,” Adam replied, “not sure how much protection she really needed. Best slicer I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ve heard the rumors. Also heard about some of the fighting you did; good work all around, you impress.”

“I try,” Adam replied, then considered for a moment. “I spoke with her a little about Marick.”

“Oh, do tell. I find a drink goes exceptionally well with gossip, will you indulge me?” Adam obliged, with Celevon gleefully pouring two glasses. The burn of the alcohol didn’t suit Adam, but he did it for the sake of accommodating Celevon. “Does she strike you as a woman that would suit him?”

“The woman isn’t even Hapan, and I think she’s better when it comes to navigating noble society than he could ever hope to be. Tough, too.”

“You could just talk about her figure, I know that I could.”

“I think that goes without saying. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again; Marick is out of his mind when it comes to women.”

“I’ll drink to that!” Celevon laughed.

RowenaMagnuri

Grade: Satisfactory


As this fiction spans more than seven thousand words, I’ll just jump straight into the bits that stood out to me.

“I enjoy making organics uncomfortable,” the droid explained in a seemingly amused monotone, “it provides a quiet atmosphere.”

For starters, I noticed that you repeatedly try to write dialogue in this manner. The second statement by your droid clearly is a second statement, though connected to the previous. A better way of writing this in future would be:

“I enjoy making organics uncomfortable,” the droid explained in a seemingly amused monotone. “It provides a quiet atmosphere.”

I would also explain that the monotonous tone of the droid’s voice was colored with amusement. The way it is written is slightly confusing, as one would expect a monotone to be without emotional inflection. Otherwise, it looks good.

“Within the next five minutes. Lambda class shuttle.” the droid deadpanned the statement, while Adam whistled, impressed. Anyone who could both find and afford an unaffiliated T4-A shuttle almost four decades after the war was well off indeed. Sure enough, the telltale folding wings soon cut their way across the sky as Alber’s arrival grew closer at hand. It had been painted differently from the bone-white the Empire preferred, now striped with blue and black and what appeared to be a crest, though Adam could not make out its details from his distance.

In the opening part of the droid’s summary, you show another inconsistency with your writing that’s an almost exact opposite to the previous one. When you indicate an action following dialogue by the one that spoke it, it is better to utilize a comma rather than a period. For example:

“Within the next five minutes. Lambda class shuttle,” the droid deadpanned the statement, while Adam whistled, impressed.

Exactly as Adam anticipated, a hand ripped down the curtain partitioning his and Treyu’s table from the rest of the teahouse. Adam hurled his now-empty cup with additional telekinetic force, shattering it on the face of the human aggressor. Treyu hired an Arconan, and Adam sought to remind her what she would sacrifice by contracting anyone else. Echo had already moved on the Zabrak, lifting him in the air with a single arm and smashing his head through a table. The human was staggered and scarred by the porcelain shards he was trying to pick out of his face, but doggedly continued his mission. One blood spattered hand produced a vibroknife, which he began clumsily jabbing at Adam in the way that most knife fights appear. The Jedi was done humoring the would be hitman, wrapping an arm around his wrist and twisting his shoulder and the weapon behind his back, hearing the sickening crack of dislocation. The sound of blaster fire shattered the remaining quiet as bolts of superheated tibanna ripped into the thug’s chest, slumping out of Adam’s grasp. Treyu stood with a DH-17 in hand where she sat only moments before. Full of surprises indeed.

Out of all of this, there is one sentence where the flow is interrupted, distracting your target audience/reader. It almost looks like something missed when proofreading. The sentence is shown below:

‘Echo had already moved on the Zabrak, lifting him in the air with a single arm and smashing his head through a table.’

I would write this as-

‘Echo had already moved on the Zabrak, lifting him in the air with a single arm before he smashed the horned head through a nearly table.’

“You’ve seen nothing yet,” Adam chuckled, reaching for his lightsaber as two more speeders, one of them car sized approached. The sage glow of the blade snapped to life just as Adam telekinetically hurled it towards the rear engines of the larger speeder. The whirling loop of plasma cut straight through one, causing the vehicle to shudder and lose speed, before the weapon swung wide again and changed trajectory for the assassin on the bike, cutting his head clear from his body.

I must call a realism here, despite how beautifully this is written. I cannot see your character being able to control the Force to this extent as a Dark Jedi Knight, whilst also piloting a speeder bike at high speeds. Maybe a High-level Equite to Elder could do this, but not a Journeyman. Despite the fact that you have your character written as a prodigy, there is a limit that you must bear in mind.

More blaster fire from the bounty hunter peppered the floor, chasing behind Adam as he dashed past the archways before disappearing around a corner and showing up again one floor higher. Windows and the glass structures making up the hallway shattered as the blaster fire ripped into them, and Adam wreathed himself in a telekinetic field to carry a few of them behind him. He would spin to face the bounty hunter, hurling a shard or two at him as he passed an opening. Adam even began adding in Force based acrobatic flourishes to his evasion, running along walls and flipping away from the hail of fire with seemingly no effort, something that increasingly frustrated the shooter. He began wildly firing grenades, knocking holes in the walls and scattering rubble as Adam danced past and took the chase to the roof. Ceramic shingles broke and flew into the air as the pursuit continued, and Adam had the bounty hunter exactly where he wanted him, having only bought time for his droid to get into position.

This also is where you write your character using the Force at an equivalent level to that of an Elder or even a Grand Master. Whilst the story itself is a captivating read, realism must be considered in. Please bear this in mind for your future fictional works, as these errors are the only thing keeping you from an Excellent ranking or even a Superior.

The only other error worth mentioning is your writing of my character. This is not counting for points, more of a bit of advice for your future writing: the only people Celevon would speak to like this are those whom he trusts absolutely. That is a very short list that could be counted on one hand, with a fingers left to spare.

Due to all of this, I award you with a grade of Satisfactory. I look forward to seeing how you improve in your future fictional works. Very well done. :slight_smile: