Enroute Port Ol’val
The massive expanse of asteroids stretched out before the shuttle. Antar glared out the window and several of the asteroids appeared large enough to house a base. He understood how Port Ol’val could stay hidden for so long. Luckily the pilot had been there before. As the shuttle moved into the belt, the proximity alarms sounded as they weaved between the enormous rocks.
“There she is now, sir,” Stig said pointing to a rather mundane looking rock in the distance.
A small asteroid darted by the bow of the shuttle, “Just keep your hands on the stick.”
“Yes, sir,” the pilot said with a smirk.
The shuttle approached Port Ol’val and the entrance came into view. The mundane looking rock had grown into a massive asteroid that dwarfed the shuttle. The pilot aimed towards the tunnel’s unseen mouth. Antar white-knuckled the arms of his chair. The optical illusion created by the first bend in the passage was broken by the shuttle passing through the magnetic shield. The pilot pulled the stick back and then quickly to the left. The scars on the walls were remnants from those less skilled attempting the journey. The corkscrews and turns of the artery caused the Anaxsi to turn a hue of green.
“That’s why it’s called ‘Kas Tunnel’, sir,” the Corellian smiled as he jerked the stick from left to right, “the word ‘kas’ means ‘chaos’ in Olys Corellisi.”
Finally, the tunnel opened up into a massive dock and Antar slowly released his vice-like grip from the armrest. He was amazed that there were freighters docked that were much larger than the shuttle. Smaller vessels darted back and forth, undoubtedly carrying illegal goods between the larger ships. The pilot requested and received permission to land, and the shuttle spun around and sat down on the landing pad.
The Sith stepped off the ramp on to the dock and looked back over his shoulder, “Lieutenant Stig, there is a briefcase on the shuttle that I need taken to the Vannacutt hotel. Feel free to take in the scenery, I’m not sure how long I will be. I need the room for a possible fall back location, but I will need you to keep that briefcase there if I need it.”
“Thank you, sir,” the pilot said almost quizzically, “I was planning on just staying on the shuttle.”
“Just tell them your key was stolen, the room is in your name. So make yourself at home and charge whatever you want to the room. Consider it a vacation for not smashing us into the wall of that tunnel,” Antar said with a wave.
“That is very kind, sir.”
The Specialist pulled a datapad from the pocket of his leather jacket and brought up the coords of the closest turbolift to the Phantom Complex. He walked around taking in the sights, looking more like a tourist than an assassin. As he drew nearer to his destination, a Rodian bumped into him. Instinctively, Antar’s hand went to his wallet, it was gone. He turned and the Rodian was no where to be found. He looked around to ensure that he could slip into the turbolift without being seen. The Sith took a deep breath and traveled on to the turbolift.
Antar made his way through the hallways of the Phantom Complex headed towards the operations center, after dropping off his gear in an open standard chamber. The stone walls were impressive. They provided a sense of security and and conveyed power. The Sith thought on it for a moment, an asteroid is an excellent base. The door ‘swished’ open and he walked into the operations center.
The operations officer on duty turned to face the sound of the door and gripped his hand on his sidearm, “Specialist Locke?”
“Yes, Captain. Do you plan on shooting me?” The Specialist said putting his hands up with a smile.
“No, sir,” the Captain relaxed his grip on the sidearm but didn’t remove it. “We weren’t expecting you so soon. You have been granted limited access to our facility, but we would prefer that you don’t take advantage of our hospitality. We haven’t relocated Dacen Lybrin since his first appearance. We aren’t even sure he is still on Port Ol’val.”
The Sith closed his eyes, “Trust me. He is still here, Captain.”
“Very well, sir. We will continue the search,” the officer said with a bow.
“At about 20:40, I was pickpocketed on the docks. Do you have a recording of it,” The Specialist asked.
“That is all too common on Port Ol’val, sir. We record everything though.”
“Pull it up,” Antar smiled.
The Captain nodded towards one of the techs. A monitor displayed the docks at the time frame the Specialist requested. The Rodian came out of a crowd of people and bumped into the Anaxsi.
“Can you follow him,” the Specialist asked.
The tech nodded and started bringing up feeds from other cameras following the Rodian from the docks to the section of Port Ol’val know as ”the Pride.” He leaned against a wall looking back and forth.
“Sir, forgive me,” the Captain began, “but shouldn’t we be looking for the Jedi.”
“Patience, Captain. Can you skip ahead, till when whomever he is waiting for arrives?”
The figures moved quickly on and off the monitor but the Rodian remained fairly still only shifting his weight back and forth. The figures slowed.
“This is happening now, sir, in real time,” the tech informed the Specialist.
1 hour later
The three continued to watch the monitor in silence. Finally, a cloaked figure approached the Rodian. The petty thief handed him the wallet. The hooded figure opened the wallet and removed the credits and handed them to the Rodian, who ran off as soon as they were in his palm. The second man stood for a moment looking through the other contents of the wallet.
“That’s him,” Antar said with a smile.
“Are you sure? I can’t see his face,” the tech asked.
“I don’t need to see his face,” the Sith replied.
Dacen pulled a keycard from the wallet and an identicard. He placed the two cards in his pocket and tossed the wallet into a waste can.
“I will take my leave of you now gentlemen,” Antar said with a bow, “Thank you for your time.”
Dacen walked to the counter of the hotel and rang the bell for service.
“Yes, sir. How can I help you?” The receptionist asked.
“A friend of mine gave me the keycard to his room,” the Jedi Knight began, “but I can’t remember what room number he said he was in.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but we aren’t allowed to give out that information,” she said with a smile.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” Dacen assured her.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t, sir,” she sincerely replied, “but it is against the policy of the Vannacutt to give that information out.”
The cult leader leaned in and exerted his will over her, “Please give me the room number.”
“Yes, sir,” the desk clerk slid the card into the reader. “It’s room 304 and you will need a new key because this one was reported stolen,” she continued, handing him the new keycard.
The Jedi made his way to the turbolift and took it up to the third floor. He walked slowly down the hall taking care not to make a sound. He came to the door and put his listened. He could hear laughter coming from within. Dacen slid the keycard into the the door and it unlocked.
As he slowly made his way towards the sleeping area where the laughing was coming from, the Knight pulled his lightsaber from beneath his cloak. In one swift movement he stepped through the doorway and ignited his lightsaber. The Twi’lek woman screamed as the door crashed in. Stig pushed the nude Twi’lek off his waist and reached for his sidearm. Dacen held out his hand and the Force enveloped the blaster, pulling it from it’s holster and throwing it across the room.
“Who are you!? What the hell do you want?” Stig asked, pulling the sheets over his naked lower body.
“Where are the files on Arcona’s defensive strategy in the Dajorra system?” Dacen said angrily.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” the pilot said.
“You had a briefcase, when you arrived. Where is it?” The fallen Jedi said waving his hand, forcing the question into the pilot’s mind.
“I didn’t have a briefcase, I don’t know what you are talking about,” Stig reiterated, hiding the fact that he was trained to resist Jedi mind tricks.
“Let me refresh your memory,” the cult leader snarled angrily.
With a twist of his wrist, he thrust the lightsaber into Stig’s right shoulder. The Knight put his hand over the pilot’s mouth preventing a scream from escaping. The nude Twi’lek tried to run for the door. Dacen waved his free hand slamming her against the wall. She slumped down falling unconscious. The Hapan removed his hand from Stig’s mouth.
“I’ll ask again,” Lybrin’s face twisted into a snarl. “Where is the briefcase?”
“I told you! I don’t know what you are talking about, you kriffing lunatic,” the Corellian grunted through the pain.
The Knight began twitching the lightsaber. “Tell me where the briefcase is,” pushing the thought into the pilot’s brain.
The pain and telepathic assault broke down Stig’s mental barrier, “Closet …safe.”
“Thank you,” Dacen said.
The cult leader called on the Force pushing it into his hand and punched the pilot, knocking him out. Dacen stood before the closet door and pressed the button that caused it to slide open. With his lightsaber he sliced open the safe. The Knight removed the briefcase and sat it on the coffee table. The cult leader pulled out a blade from his boot and slipped in underneath latch breaking it open.
A red light flashed. An electrode activated. A spark ignited. The explosives triggered. The window of the room blew out.
Antar looked up and watched the broken glass fall to the ground with a smile.
Estle City, Selen
1 Week Earlier
The Specialist tapped the comm on his wrist, “Master, do you have a moment?”
“I’m rather busy, Apprentice,” Sight’s voice sounded annoyed.
Antar said quickly. “I need a bomb,” knowing it would peak his interest.
Sight answered. “Why do you need a bomb?”
“Meet me at the Citadel in an hour. I would rather speak in person,” the Jedi Hunter spoke.
“On my way,” his Master replied.
The comm went silent and Antar tapped it again, “Captain, I’m sorry to bother you but I need a favor.”
“Specialist, we have an XO and Section Chiefs for a reason,” Arcia informed her crew member.
“I understand Ma’am, but I have a mission that requires as few people involved as possible. I need a pilot. One that we aren’t going to miss, but has been to Port Ol’val,” Antar said in an apologetic tone.
Arcia sighed, “I don’t want to know, but I might have the Corellian for you. I’ll see if I can get Lieutenant Stig put under your command.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Antar replied.
The Jedi Hunter walked towards the DIA offices in the Citadel and showed his identification to the guard. After passing the guard station he walked into the Bureau of Analysis.
The Chief Analyst greeted Antar, “Specialist, How can I help you?”
“Chief, I need some information leaked,” the Sith smiled.
“That is something we could handle. What and why?” The Chief asked.
Antar rubbed his chin, “I have a mission from the Consul, that is all I can say about the why.”
The Chief didn’t press the question, “And the what?”
“I have it on good authority that Lieutenant Stig is going to be delivering our defense strategy for the Dajorra system to Port Ol’val. He will be arriving in one week. It would be even better if when he arrived, his information could fall into a specific person’s hands,” the Anaxsi informed the Chief as he handed him the information on Dacen Lybrin.
“That is doable and I have a Rodian agent already in place there,” the Chief said with a nod.
“I have a meeting, if you will excuse me,” Antar said shaking his hand.
Antar waited in front of the Citadel for Sight, until he saw the Krath walking towards him. The two bowed and began to walk together as Antar explained his need for a bomb.
Sight smiled, “You know a lot could go wrong.”
“I know, but I think this is the best way to draw him out of hiding,” Antar answered. He continued, “Do you think you can help?”
The albino shook his head, “I should be able to come up with something.”
The shards of glass shattered into smaller pieces upon impact. The Anaxsi walked towards the hotel. When suddenly his target came stumbling out the main entrance. The right side of his face was badly burned and his right arm was missing below the elbow.
“Son of Hutt…” The Sith said pulling his blaster.
He fired at the limping, bleeding Jedi. Striking him in the left shoulder. Dacen screamed in pain as the bolt ripped through his shoulder, but some how managed to continue moving away. Antar jetted towards the Knight, who ducked into an alley.
Antar turned the corner and felt a wave of the Force slam him to the ground. The Specialist tried to get up, but a kick to the chin knocked him back down. A blade pierced his right side, slicing between his ribs and punctured his lung. The Jedi Hunter rolled to his knees and coughed up blood. Another boot stomp landed on the back of his head causing him to blackout.
He awoke surrounded by medical droids.
“Where is he!?” Antar screamed and tried to sit up.
“Calm down, sir,” one of the droids said in a monotone voice, to calm the patient.
The Anaxsi’s anger grew, “Get me someone in charge, now.”
“Specialist, please calm down,” the voice of Operations officer said, “He is in custody, two floors above you.”
“I need a communicator,” Antar said gripping his side.
“Not now you need to rest,” the medical droid said.
“Unless you want me to tear this place a part, get me a kriffing communicator,” Antar said with a grunt.
The Captain said, “Clear the room. The holocommunicator is on the table.”
The med droids quickly exited the room, and the officer locked the door behind him.
Antar sat up, holding his side, struggling to breathe. The Consul’s image appeared before him.
“Sir, the mission was a failure. The target is alive, but in custody. Requesting further instructions.”