The message was very clear. They had been taken. Quo read again the information. One million credits for their safe return, and no security involvement. He couldn’t just sit and wait for them to contact him. What he needed was someone who could trace this, and he knew just the person. His comm system cracked into life, a burst of static broke through the squelch as the power came on.
“Bentre Stahoes, personal,” he spoke into his computer interface, watching as the frequency scrolled to Ben’s personal channel. He waited for a reply, fingers beating a tattoo on the work surface in front of him.
“Ben here, go,” the Sith at the other end of the comm sounded narked, even angry, at being interrupted.
“Ben, I need your help, I’m sending something over,” his fingers keyed the required sequence to send the message information over to the Corellian, “find out where it was sent from, and when.”
“What’s the magic word?” Bentre chided, knowing that he would get a rise from the young Zabrak.
“Abracadabra!” Quo spat back, “Ben this is important, I need this yesterday” The sincerity in his voice, and the concern conveyed convinced Stahoes that Quo was definitely not messing about.
“Sorry,” he replied, “I’m on it. I’ll buzz you when I get something. Need anything?”
Quo was a little stunned by the genuineness betrayed in his brother Sith’s voice. “No mate, if I do I’ll shout.” With a click he terminated the conversation. He set the comms to alert his mobile unit when there was a message.
Wheeling he made his way towards his weapons locker. Taking out his lightsaber, his vibro sword, and his throwing knives he placed them into their respective positions on his belt. Reaching across he took down his cloak from the hangar and returned to the main area of his apartment. Picking up his access card from the work top he left, heading for the hangar to prep the Eenzaam, ensuring that she was ready for whatever was thrown in her direction. He checked that his weapons systems were charged along with the shields, and ensured that all the panels were secured before climbing aboard and setting all the systems to standby, no telling how much time he would have and he had to be sure that he could be airborne at a moments notice.
“Quo, come in,” Bentre’s resonant baritone come across the airwaves, “I have the info you require, sending it now”
A burst of data flooded across the pad that Quo held in his hands. Glancing through it he could see the thoroughness of Ben’s slicing, even going into the minutia that others would have missed, or not bothered to uncover. “Thanks Ben, I owe you one.” With one leap he was aboard his Tie Oppressor, setting the navicomp to Sepros, the jungle planet within the Orion System. The engine whine raised as Quo gunned the ship for maximum acceleration. With a flash and a sonic thud it was airborne in a steep climb, heading for space at maximum velocity.
--
The jungle was thick, tendrils of growth had all but covered all of the surface with shades of green, the sunlight coming down in bars through the canopy above. Quo reached out with his mind, seeking any life that was in the immediate vicinity. He moved with stealth, using the available cover. Bentre’s data had signified that the transmissions had come from this area, Quo guessed that it was a temporary unit set up just for one transmission, but the orbit of this planet meant that the last 37 hours had been in darkness, the light only finding this side within the last hour. He was hoping that whoever sent it was only just clearing up after themselves to move. Ben was the best slicer he knew, nobody could have found out where it originated any quicker.
Quo’s mind flickered, he knew they were still out there, and close. Concentrating on his connection to the living Force, strong here with the abundance of life, he pushed forward through the jungle zeroing in on his quarry. He could feel four life forms out there, and they were all congregated together, and it included the two younglings, Summer and Jo. He could see the undergrowth thinning up ahead, a small clearing opening up before him. Anyone watching would have seen him fade into the background, chameleon like, his form disappearing like a ghost.
At the edge of the clearing he crouched, his eyes roving over the small encampment. He couldn’t see the children from this vantage point. Creeping slowly and deliberately he made his way towards the centre of the camp, between the two temporary accommodation structures. As he squatted between them the first of his quarry emerged from behind the largest. “Treemo, where are you?” he whispered, his hands clasped around an ancient blaster, scuffed and marked through battle. “In here, with the brats,” came his companions reply. Now Quo had them in his sights. A throwing knife took the former in the throat, the force of it propelling him backwards in an arc past the tree line. Quo rolled forward, his invisibility dropping as he rolled through the opening of the tented building, his saber igniting. As his feet found their grip on the forest floor his right hand flung the crimson blade towards his target, taking him just above the shoulders, the blade severing his head from his body. With a gesture the blade returned to his hand, his thumb triggering the off switch, with a flourish returning it to his belt. The children were wild eyed, the fear apparent on their innocent faces. Their mouths were gagged, their limbs secured together wrist to ankle. Whoever had tied them knew what they were doing. Quo bent, undoing their bonds with one of his throwing blades. Mentally he checked them over, they both looked fine.
A ‘snap hiss’ sound behind him alerted his senses to another lightsaber being ignited behind him. Bursting forwards he scooped the children up, one in each arm, crashing through the back of the fabric dwelling. Rolling as he entered the cover of the foliage he set them down, gesturing for them to remain silent, a nod signalling their ascension. A leap took him back to the centre of the camp, his blade igniting in his right hand, his vibroblade in his left, angled down and away from his body.
His sabre blade clashed into his opponents, the crimson light doubled by another scarlet one. Looking past the fizzling contact Quo saw a female Twi’lek, but this one was red skinned with black tattoos. Another Sith. How had he not felt her? Quo attacked with a flurry of strikes, beating the Twi’lek backwards, his eyes full of fury. Twisting away she mounted an attack of her own, her blade arcing around towards his torso, both hands and shoulders driving into the swing, her feet pirouetting on the spot. Quo met her blade with his vibro sword, deflecting the strike upwards as he bent his knees, the blade skimming just above his horns. His right hand struck like a cobra, the blade biting into the Twi’lek’s left abdomen, driving upwards and across, slicing the Sith in two.
Replacing his weapons he knelt next to her, looking down into red and gold eyes, a facsimile of his own. She was lying on her right hand side. Now Quo could see why he hadn’t felt her. Attached to her back was a Ysalamiri, cocooned in a reinforced dome on her pack.
“Why did you take them? Who sent you?” Quo barked at her. Already he could see the light fading from her eyes as the shock of her injuries set in. “Oh no you frelling don’t,” reaching down for his comms ”Quo Wing-Tzun to base, medivac needed, right now!” His order was shouted down the microphone.
“Stahoes here, ETA one minute. Couldn’t have you wandering about the system on your own,” a chuckle carried over the comm.
“I need this one alive, I need her to talk I will make her talk!” The anger was apparent, and warranted no argument.
“Coming in now big man, take it easy, she’ll live, stasis chamber is prepped and ready.” The was from the thrusters was already whipping the branches with its energy.
Quo returned to the place where he left the children. “Are you both OK?” He looked concerned, but the smile from both Summer and Jo eased his mind a little. Both of them threw their arms around him, small hands gripping tight around his neck.
“We’re fine now, Uncle Quo, now you’re here,” Summer said with a lilting voice, Jo nodded, a grin from ear to ear on his little face.
“Come on, let’s get you home and checked over.” Lifting them up he carried them to Stahoes ship, following the stasis chamber up the ramp.
“Can we have schnitzels?” Jo piped up
“Sure you can kid,” Bentre smiled as the met them at the top of the ramp, “as many as you can manage buddy”
Quo nodded at the Corellian words not necessary. The ramp hissed as it closed on them. Somebody will pay for this thought Quo, as did Bentre. You never mess with a Sith, or his family.