Fiction Activity

Competition
Blackguard Competition: Recovery
Textual submission

The night was still and quiet, not a breath of wind across the open desert. Even on the down slopes of the mountain ranges in the distance there was utter stillness. The nocturnal predators were hunting their prey under the cover of the dark. The only illumination came from the reflected red light of the dwarf star at the centre of the system bouncing down from the three small moons that circled above, locked in their own orbit of this small planet. The stillness carried every little sound across the void, every sand fall, every scuffle, every foreshortened cry from the prey as they were taken.

Above the sky was clear. The planet did not produce enough moisture for clouds to form making the night time temperatures drop to below freezing, whereas the daytime temperatures soared towards the one hundred and fifties, boiling any life form that was not properly adapted to the massive variance of the climate.

The Eenzaam entered the upper atmosphere over the southern pole, far enough from any centres of population that the vortices from his entry would attract the least amount of attention. To any observer below it would simply look like another meteorite, or lump of debris in its final throes before total disintegration on the surface below. Quo had cut the engines so that the ship would glide down to the surface, the only sound being the tortured scream of the pressure wave impacting the bows of the TIE Oppressor.

He waited as the fiery trail died down as his altitude decreased and the pressure equalised against the hull. His speed bled off as the friction pulled on the superstructure of the vessel, buffeting the ship as she glided towards the desert below. Quo had the craft in a slow, long spiral down, keeping to the South as much as possible, he knew that he would be a long way from his targets, but he would keep the element of surprise. His scanners indicated that there were only two places on this planet that were populated to more than a family grouping, and they were both North of the bled that he was aiming to land on. Controlling his speed and descent were critical, in effect he was flying a glider, he didn’t want the sound of the engines to give away the fact that he wasn’t an asteroid plummeting to its doom.

Turning onto his final approach he scanned the sand that was flashing past beneath his cockpit view panel watching for any rocky outcrops that would end his landing cycle in a short, sharp, disintegrating type of way, something that he wanted to avoid at all costs. Releasing the landing gear he felt the speed bleeding off the ship as the aerodynamics were disrupted by the landing struts. Balancing his speed against lift he brought her in to a smooth landing, the skis skipping over the sand, kicking up dust as they gained traction on the planets surface, bringing her to a smooth stop without so much as a crunch or a bang to escape over the dunes.

Checking his instruments Quo shut down the ship, all electrical systems closed down so that there were no tell tale echoes from his arrival. He could feel that his quarry was here, all his senses were alerted to their presence. Opening the hatches beneath the panels on the struts he took down his pack, turning and making his way across the emptiness of the desert. He had four hours until sunrise, and he needed to be under cover by then, before the temperature rose too high for him to safely be out in the open. Clipping his vibrosword and lightsaber to his belt and hefting the pack onto his shoulder he set off northwards.

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The thing with a small planet is the days are so short he thought as he approached the rocky buttress jutting into the smoothness of the desert. He was only a click or so away from the craggy cliffs, and the sun was already starting to show shards of russet from beyond the horizon marking its impending arising. The rays of its light were making the darkness darker in places as the shadows grew with the suns back lighting. Upping his pace he knew he had to get into shelter before the sun rose to its zenith when the sands would be like hot embers to his exposed body. Within ten minutes he had made it to the foot hills of the escarpment and began the climb up the slope. His eyes were scanning the shadows looking for a place to camp through the worst of the heat.

A crevice above him attracted his attention, turning to his right he began the ascent to what he hoped was a cavernous entrance he had spotted some three hundred feet above him. Scrambling over the lower faces, mostly broken and fallen boulders dislodged from above, probably by the constant cooling and heating of the surface material causing it to fracture and crash down from above. With sure feet he climbed higher until he was finally in front of the opening, making his way into the darkness, searching with his feelings for any unwanted predatory inhabitants through his connection with the Living Force. Sensing nothing he ventured inside, following the curve of the fracture slightly downwards and away from the heat that was building behind and above him. Settling down he set up his water reclaiming unit, and poured himself a mug of water. The best way of conserving fluids was to carry them round in your body and he knew that over the next three hours, until the sun had started setting over the hills in the far South that he would have to replenish all that he had lost in the night on his trek across the desert.

Patience was not one of Quo’s primary attributes, but he knew that he must wait. He also knew that his quarry would have to wait as well, the heat was simply too oppressive to allow any work out in the open in any resemblance of safety. The treasure hunters had no reason to leave quickly anyway, they had only arrived a few hours before he himself had alighted on the planets surface, they were far more likely to stay here for a while and keep a low profile. They had no idea that they were being persued, and would no doubt be making enquiries as to a buyer for their prize, that would mean staying and waiting themselves until notification was received.

He passed the hours by checking his equipment, making sure that he was fully prepared. He was focussed completely on his task, so much so that when he glanced up at his chronograph he realised that there were only a few minutes until the sun began sinking below the tops of the mountains far South of his current position. Packing up his gear again he rose and made his way out to the cavern entrance watching for a moment as the sun disappeared behind the crags far away. Setting out again over the sand he only had a hike of some forty minutes until he was on the outskirts of the largest settlement, the place where his computer had showed him that the thieves had landed their own craft.

That was how he saw them, as thieves. They had gone down to Tasha’s home planet and taken from her. They had taken only one thing, so they were being paid by someone else, someone who knew the value of the item, and that someone must never get their hands on it, and he would do anything to prevent it. He knew that the item had existed, but had no idea that his own Master held it in her inventory, he had no idea that it had survived. It was far too dangerous a thing to be allowed to be let loose on the Galaxy, even if he felt the pull of it, goading him into taking it for himself. He wouldn’t of course, his Master had given him a mission and he would complete it. Anyway he knew where it was should he decide that he needed it.

His reverie had made the miles pass by without conscious thought or effort, he only came back to the ‘now’ when he was less than two clicks from the settlement. Lying on his belly just behind the crest of a large dune overlooking the camp, for that was all that it was, there were no solid structures within its confines, merely a rag tag mismatch of temporary abodes. Scanning from his vantage point through his ocular magnifiers he could make out several ships of differing configurations. He soon zeroed in on a Corellian cargo runner. The markings were consistent with the testimonies of the witnesses to their flight from Ryloth, and the manifest had given him false identification number from the transponder. Taking out his pad he sent an electronic enquiry to the ships transponder which was answered by a ping. Checking the readout he saw that it was the same identification. He had them! He continued watching the encampment for the next twenty minutes seeing no signs of patrols or guards, only a couple of local militia that were watching the latest pod race broadcast on a viewer within a Sanger towards the eastern edge of the settlement.

Quo made his way down towards the parking area for the ships, moving quickly and silently down the dune alleys in a wandering path, using the shadows to his advantage. Through concentration he was able to avoid detection from the Force users within the perimeter of the enclosure, whilst the darkness concealed his physical form. Sprinting from the final dune over the open space set out for landing craft he stayed low and quiet as he approached the target ship. Slapping his hand onto the release button the boarding hatch slid out and downwards to meet the desert floor, a black shadow detaching itself from beneath to vault up the slope into lit interior. In an instant the hatch slid shut again leaving no sign that it had been activated to all but the keenest eyed passer by.

The ship itself was small, barely a more than a shuttle in all reality with a central area where the crew slept, ate, and carried out the minutiae of every day life. There were storage lockers along one of the walls along with a food unit for heating provisions. The place was a mess, detritus from the crew strewn about the compartment, discarded food packaging and clothing items laying around in a haphazard manner. Quo opened the lockers one by one finding nothing but the crews personal effects within their metallic interiors. He searched quickly and efficiently attempting to leave no impression that he had ever been there, even so it took him the best part of thirty minutes to ensure himself that the item was not located within any of the storage spaces contained within the oval room. Turning he left and headed for the cockpit area, although he felt this also may be a dead end.

Entering the bubble of the cockpit he knew that he was more vulnerable here than at any other part of his reconnoitre of the ship due to the plexiglass windows that made up sixty percent of the piloting control area. It gave the craft an excellent field of vision for the pilot, but gave little in the way of cover for anybody searching the area. From the outside his silhouette could be clearly seen from the outside. Concentrating hard he appeared to anyone observing the ship to fade out, his profile disappearing into the background. Moving with deliberate precision he checked the cramped confines of the cockpit for any hidden access panels, the floor, the walls holding the plexiglass, nothing!

A hiss and groan from the hydraulics signalled that the hatch was being accessed from outside. Quo froze. He waited listening for the noise as the crew boarded their vessel, the snatches of their conversation carrying along the corridor to his position.

“Why haven’t we had any reply yet? Do you think that the merchandise has become hot?” The lilting voice of youth carried through the silence of the ship, from the sound of it this was a young male, although Quo didn’t exclude the chance that it was a female. Moving from the cockpit silently he moved into the corridor, less chance of being cornered than the cockpit.

“Quiet!” The gruff male tones garnered no choice about it, “Someone has been here. Secure the ship!”

Sounds of activity filtered towards him as weapons were primed and systems activated sealing the ship from the inside. Dead bolts fired into place as the door to the hatch was sealed, the ‘thunk’ deafening as it echoed throughout the ship, the vibration sending shock waves through the steel skeleton of the cargo runner. Quo waited, his feet shoulder width apart, left foot in front of his right, his right hand wrapped lightly around the hilt of his lightsaber, his left containing one of his throwing knives. If he had to kill best to make it quick and quiet if at all possible.

The gruff voice boomed again from the central cabin, “We know you are here, come out and no sudden moves,”

Quo thought that he may be bluffing to bring out an inexperienced thief, but he would take no chances, moving forwards down the corridor he approached the opening into the oval space on the other side of the bulk head.

“Come out Jedi, Know you are here do I.” Another male, they were giving him more intelligence with every passing second.

Reaching the frame of the door way the young Zabrak was about to crane his neck around the edge to take a look. Instinct made him pull backwards at the last second, something inside him making him retreat as the blade of a lightsaber ignited and swept downwards, bisecting the air where a split second before his face was about to occupy. Quo’s own blade ignited with a ‘snap-hiss’, the crimson light reflecting from the panels in the corridor, making a sickly colouration where his own blade and his opponents illuminated the brushed steel of the tube in which he was standing.

The green blade advanced through the opening followed by its owner. The Human female was far smaller than he was although the musculature of her rippled with every movement. Her small frame was well toned, and she was light on her feet, the muffled footfalls belying the speed of her advance. Clad in leather trousers and jacket covering a simple cotton shirt her eyes were brilliant blue almost piercing in the gloom of the corridor.

Quo’s rapid movements had shattered the illusion of invisibility. Standing a good head taller than his opponent he advanced, his red and gold eyes glinting with the anticipation of taking down this light sider. His eyes narrowed as he advanced.

Her blade sliced forwards across him at neck height, his own blade meeting it in a jabbing motion, rolling around the diameter pushing it up and away from his head. The clash of the energy weapons leaving a smell of ozone in the confined space, the crack and spit from their connection rebounding from the walls amplifying the noise into an assault on both their hearing. Quo’s wrist flicked out bringing the tip of his blade around and down jabbing it into the soft tissue of the Force sensitives shoulder, a cry escaping her as she involuntarily reeled backwards. Quo jabbed again, his blade being parried uncomfortably by the Jedi in front of him, her balance and grip being weakened by the pain she felt, and the necessity to wield her own weapon single handed. Retreating she led his advance into the heart of the ship, back to the oval room whence she had emerged. As he emerged from the restrictive space of the corridor he mentally tallied up the opposition within the cabin. Three humans and a Gungan. As he entered the Gungan raised a bow caster to his shoulder, readying himself for releasing the energy of the weapon on the Sith warrior, his finger curling from the trigger guard onto the trigger itself.

Like a flash Quo’s left hand whipped out, the blade contained within it arrowing a track towards the would be shooter the glittering light reflecting from the cutting edge as it flew across the room. With an audible ‘thunk’ it struck the sniper between his eye stalks, the impact throwing him backwards into the lockers behind him. A crash followed by a crumpling marked the end of his life in a pool of his own fluids.

A volley of fire from his right from the largest of the men filled the room with blaster bolts and smoke from their impact. Quo moved at superhuman speed into the centre of the room, his blade beating a tattoo of deflection directing the bolts away from his body as he moved. One of the bolts deflected from the scarlet dancing blade struck the other human in the chest, the smell of burning flesh filling the air with smoky, barbecue smell as the victim fell where he stood, his legs buckling beneath him.

A gesture from Quo’s left hand and the space was filled with blue and white lightning, the energy leaping from metallic surface to metallic surface enveloping the two remaining foes within the fingers of its grasp. Holding both of them with the crackling pulses the Siths saber cut down the Jedi before him, separating her head from her body, the look of shock forever etched onto her features as her body fell onto the grill of the floor. A spinning strike covered the distance to the final opponent, his weapon disintegrating as the crimson saber cleaved it in half.

Quo ended the lighting storm as quickly as he started it, the silence of the cabin seeming to be deafening to the lone human treasure hunter as the Zabrak approached.

“Where is it?” The Sith growled the question toward the lone survivor, “I know you have it. Where is it?”

The final three syllables were emphasised, a gesture from the warrior of finger against thumb seeming to drive the air from the Captains lungs. His eyes widened, the iris and pupils fully separated from the lids surrounding them making them seem to be huge in his terror. His lips quivered, seemingly fighting to get the words out faster than his muscles would allow.

“Cargo bay, floor panel, code 14be568,” he stammered as his feet led his body backwards into the wall.

“Show me!” The words seemed to have a power all of their own, driving the Captain past him, Quo following a couple of paces behind.

The human pressed the release catch for the cargo bay and the hatch sprung upwards into the bulk head opening out into a small but functional cargo bay. Scurrying ahead the Captain pointed to the floor panel towards the rear right of the hold.

“Open it!”

Pressing down on the panel it released the mechanism, the covering flicking up a fraction before the treasure hunter eased it up and back to reveal the access panel below, his fingers tapping out the code. The door beneath slid across. Looking back upwards the last thing that the Captain saw was the Zabrak’s crimson blade slicing down towards his head. Quo reached down and pulled the humans remains out of the way and looked into the secure hold below.

With reverence he withdrew the item from its resting place in the base of the safe. Lifting it up in front of his eyes he absorbed the lines admiring the quality of its manufacture. How many others had actually held it before? Very few he guessed. Rotating it in his hand he viewed it from every angle trying to absorb the essence of it through his eyes. He could feel the power radiating from it, fuelling his own desire for power, screaming out to him to claim it for his own. He could feel the greatness issuing forth from it, calling to him through the Force. Turning it towards him he both admired and craved it, and the man who had once owned it. Holding it in both hands now he turned it so that the eye sockets were staring back at him. To hold the face plate of Darth Vader in his own hands tempted him more than any other item than he had ever beheld before, but he knew he had to return it to Tasha’Vel. She required it of him.

Placing it inside the canvas bag that he had brought to transport it he stood. Reaching into his belt pouches he removed several of the charges and set them. He would not leave any clues as to his passing, all traces must be erased. Approaching the hatch he accessed the door release before exitting and closing it behind him. Like a wraith he returned to the desert from which he came, retreating behind a large dune before keying the detonator. The Corellian cargo runner erupted in a mushroom of orange and yellow heat, shrapnel arcing away in all directions, the ‘plops’ of metal fragments impacting around him after the blast of the pressure wave had passed over him.

Satisfied that his work here was completed he turned away heading back towards the South, and his own ship deep in the desert. The darkness enveloped him as he retreated into the night carrying his precious cargo back to his Master. He would be home soon, back in the fold of his fellow Sadowans. And now he knew what the relic was, and where it was housed. The covetousness still burned within him, the embers fuelling his grip on the Dark Side. One day, when he needed it, it would be his. The fire inside was the only light as he began the journey home, no other illumination was required for the Sith, he could see his way plainly now.