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Description
Recruitment
The Corellian Whiskey burned like fire, warming my belly. As if anything could warm my mind... The bottle fell from my hand, smashing on the cold durasteel flooring.
Yet another Cantina. Everything starts in a cantina. That hell hole on Peragus, the assassination attempt on Nar Shaddaa, being recruited to kill that Quarren on Telos, my Recruitment by the Republic. Even Revan's agents approached me in a cantina...

Taris - One Month after the Battle of Malachor V
Jaq
The three humans walked in, cloaked in black from head to foot, with hoods covering their faces. I could see several places where concealed weapons could be drawn quickly. Their manner immediately attracted the attention of the cantina's patrons. In the blink of an eye the entire clientele had drawn blasters and were now training them on those who dared disturb their drinking.
The bartender lent over the bar and spoke in a gruff voice, rubbing a clean glass with a dirty cloth. "You lost? ‘Cos you sure don't mean to be in here." There was no threat in his voice; it was evident enough in the amount of firepower trained on the visitors.
"We will not disturb you for long; we merely wish to have a conversation outside with one of your...wonderful clients." The middle of the three spoke in a cultured voice, tinged with disgust at his surroundings.
I had recognized what they were looking for. I set down my Juma, and walked up to the middle, obviously the leader, and extended my hand. "Jaq Rand, pleased to see ya."
He looked surprised that I had so easily identified myself, and extended his hand, reaching out for mine, sealing his fate.
Then I opened the cage, and the real Jaq stepped out.
Jaq grabbed the leader's arm before he could react, jerked the man towards him, and with a crack the cloaked man's neck snapped. Jaq let the broken body fall, pulling a knife concealed in the folds of the man's cloak, and plunging it into the second man. He stared in disbelief as the blade pierced his throat, his blood spurting over Jaq.
But the knife was already moving. The third man had turned and was running for the door; a portal of hope in what he knew would otherwise be his death.
Jaq merely smiled, that of a predator that had finally been fed, but not yet sated.
He weighed the knife. A three, maybe three and a half, and let it fly.
The knife sliced through tendons, muscles, and ligaments, and the cloaked man collapsed, the knife buried in his knee.
Jaq walked over calmly, and yanked the knife out, cutting through more muscle as he did so.
The knife was bathed in blood; Jaq wiped it on his clothes. He rolled the man over; drinking in the groan of pain he gave. He yanked him off the floor, slung him over his shoulder, and walked out the cantina's back door into the alleyways behind. None of the cantina's other visitors tried to stop him, they knew his reputation.
The man gasped as he was thrown to the ground in the deserted alleyway. His fall had carried him onto a few flimsiplast crates, which splintered beneath his weight. He tried to scrabble away, but Jaq merely grabbed the man, flipped him over again, and smiled his cruel little smile. His hand moved lightening fast, plunging the knife into the man, drawing it up his arm. "Now, you can tell me why you want to talk to me, or I can kill you in the most painful possible way I have time for right now. Who knows, I might do that anyway."
The man's hood had fallen back, revealing a face devoid of colour, fear evident in his pale blue eyes. He spoke quickly; desperate to get the words out before Jaq did anything else "We are emissaries! You sent a message to one of our men concerning joining up!"
"So I did. Looks like I should spare you. But then again, I know the difference between emissaries and a kill squad." He balanced the knife on the end of his index finger.
He spun the knife, and watched the way it caught the light on each revolution.
"Yes, I probably should let you live, but I do a lot of things that I shouldn't."
Jaq snapped his fingers, sending the knife spinning into the man's forehead.
Jaq pulled out the knife, wiped it on the man's cloak, and stuffed it into his boot. He searched through the man's clothes, and found an empty wallet, with just an address scrawled on a piece of flimsi in it. Derringer Street, Apartment Block 9, Apartment 601. "Looks like I have a meeting." He inhaled the blood, exhaled, and entered the cantina again."
He glanced at the bartender, who was mopping up the blood, the two other bodies nowhere to be seen, and tossed a few coins onto the bar.
"Put them on my tab."
Dubrak Nad approached his door. He checked the three hairs he had left there were in place, and passed his keycard through the slot. He opened his door, and deactivated the alarm.
That's good, none of my security measures have been tripped, and everything's in the right place.
He set down his black briefcase, and opened the door to his office. He hit the light switch, muttering "All I've got to do now is wait for the report, they should have dealt with Rand by now." and stared in shock at the figure sitting on his chair, his feet resting on Dubrak's desk.
Jaq
Dubrak was already in motion, when I swung my feet off the desk, diving behind a bantha hide armchair in the corner of the room, and pulling out a heavy blaster pistol concealed behind it. He then realized that had I wanted to kill him, he would have been ambushed in the dark.
He stood up slowly, obviously preparing for a blaster bolt to hit his chest.
"I'm ‘fraid it's not that easy for your men to get the drop on me." I nodded at him, and set down the datapad I had been holding onto the desk.
"Ah. You must be Rand." The man spoke like a clerk, but I could see the small details, the tensing of the knees, the bulges where armour was being worn under clothes, the way his hand drifted close to the knife concealed in his expensive suit, whilst the other held the blaster in an overly nonchalant way. If I make a move, he'll pretend not to be countering with the blaster, whilst drawing his knife and stabbing me rather instead. But I'm not going to make a move. Yet.
"Your datapad is very interesting, Dubrak." I grinned "Do you mind if I call you Dubrak?"
He seemed unsettled by me knowing his name, but shook his head. Well, I had a few more surprises lined up for him. "I'm surprised that Revan hasn't found out yet."
He stiffened "Found out what?"
"That you have been sending kill squads after all the promising recruits." I savoured the look of shock on his face at my revelation.
His eyes darted around the room, seeking something he could use to his advantage. "You can't prove it."
I held up the datapad "Wrong, I'm afraid. Dead wrong. And if you don't tell me how I can get into contact with whoever you send the useless recruits to, you will die."
The man looked resigned "There is a ticket for the Mesmerise, a Cruise Ship heading to Kuat, in the top left drawer. You will be met in your cabin by your contact; he makes the journey regularly to pick up any new recruits."
"Good." I stood up out of his chair, and pulled out the knife I had taken earlier. "There's just one thing left to do."
Jaq was looking for another fix.
As Jaq had guessed, the man went for his knife first. Three fingers from his left hand were severed by Jaq's knife, blood spurting out over the floor, and the man's knife plummeted to the ground.
"I don't appreciate people trying to use knives on me. Knives are mine." He shoved the man to the floor, and then picked up the man's knife.
He tested the blade. "Now this, this is a well maintained knife. Too heavy for throwing, but if you want to do some damage in close quarters, very nice."
He looked into the man's eyes, seeing the fear, and laughed. "You deal with me, try to kill me, and then you're afraid when I react like this."
Jaq stared at him for a few more seconds watching his panic grow greater and greater. "Always remember, when you play with fire..."
He stabbed the knife down viciously into the man's heart, and left it quivering there. He surveyed his work, noting the man's dead eyes, and nodded with satisfaction.
"You get burned."
Jaq
I grinned. Finally away from that pit of a world, and heading to new, very interesting employment. The Mesmerise truly lived up to its namesake. Far better accommodated than those rust buckets we used as transports in the war.
I read the ticket in my hand. Cabin 164. Well it's as good a number as any.
I stepped into a turbolift and keyed for my floor. As I descended, I felt the ship shiver, just for a moment, and then it was still again. They must have top-of-the-line hyper-drive engines to make a jump that seamlessly. I nodded my head in admiration. If I ever get a ship, it's going to be that quiet. Stealthy as a Firaxa Shark approaching an unwary swimmer. But, of course, a hell of a lot faster.
The doors swung open in front of me. I walked down an empty corridor, searching for my room. The ship seems deserted; the other passengers must have already gone to dinner. I read the numbers of all the rooms we passed; 151, 152.........162, 163, 164.
I scanned the ticket through the door's locking mechanism, and it swung open to my touch.
As I had expected, there was already a man in there, sitting in a comfortable chair reading from a datapad, with a datacard casing labelled Horticultural Galactic sitting on the small table within arms' reach of the man.
He glanced up at me, his hand briefly brushing a concealed pocket in his jacket as he did so. Concealed weapon there, vibroblade, knife or blaster. In a crowded ship with little sound-proofing, I'd go with vibroblade or knife. The man was dressed in the most recent Coruscanti fashions, well cut white trousers and jacket, and a black linen shirt underneath. He wore a ring on his ring finger, a simple band of gold, a tradition that had died out in a large part of the galaxy, but was making a comeback in high society. All this led to the typical image of a married Coruscanti businessman, who could afford to travel first-class.
I knew I looked a lot scruffier than the man, with my black trousers, grey shirt, and my lucky ribbed-jacket. The man I had procured it from had guaranteed it blaster-proof. Too bad for him it wasn't knife-proof. I had had to take off my blaster-belt when boarding the ship; they had a strict ‘No-Weapons' rule in all places on ship. They still didn't notice the knife in my luggage though. I grinned. I wasn't quite as defenceless as the man probably thought.
"Mr Rand." It wasn't a question.
"Who? Where?" I shot off the comment, trying to provoke an angry response from the man, but drew up a blank.
"I have been told to give you these documents, and to make sure you make no copies of them." The business man had addressed me formally. I feel like a public committee.
He flipped open the clasps of his briefcase, and handed me a flimsiplast box. "Inside are non-oxidised formo-sheets. On contact with oxygen they will disintegrate in 3 minutes. Please memorise your instructions clearly, and follow them to the letter. They will guide you to Lord Revan's service"
The box was vacuum sealed, with one-use catches on it. I knew that no-one could have read them before me except from the writer. I popped the seals, and pulled out the information.
I sank into an armchair facing the one he himself sat in, and began to read through the document, noting where it said I needed to change ships and contact various agents,
The last line was the most interesting for me. The bearer of these is an assassin from the Republic. Kill him.
I smiled. Well Jaq, looks like you can fill your appetite already.
Jaq looked up suddenly, startling the fake businessman, who was now sat opposite him.
"I trust everything is satisfactory?" The man still spoke in his formal manner, but now there was the air of a conspirator to his speech.
"All but one thing." Jaq stood up, and picked up a small stone statue off the coffee table behind his chair. It was a statue of a faceless Jedi, wielding a stone lightsaber. A symbol of an outmoded bunch of fools.
He listened carefully, hearing the man almost silently rise from his chair and approach him from behind.
He hefted the statue, and swung it round, hitting the man in the chest, relishing the feel as several of the man's ribs gave way. A vibroblade spun out of the man's hand, making a loud sound as it hit the floor, setting Jaq's teeth on edge. He let go off the statue and swung his arm down, grabbing the fallen vibroblade from the floor. His hand gripped the Agrinium grip tightly, and he watched as the man, still wheezing backed away from him, his eyes darting from Jaq to the door.
Jaq smirked "As I see it, you have two choices; try and over power me, or run for the door and hope I don't kill you before you reach it." He picked up a vase full of flowers, and hefted it. The man across the room raised his arm instinctively, preparing to ward off any thrown objects, but instead Jaq hurled it at the door switch, and the door slid shut soundlessly.
"Look. I can pay you if you let me live!" Desperation tinged the man's wheezing voice, and he gestured behind Jaq. "That case contains 100,000 Credits, my payment for this job. It's yours if you let me live!"
"And what is to stop me taking it from your cold dead body?" Jaq returned, but couldn't resist a glance behind at the case. The man moved like a snake, a hold-out blaster falling into his hands. Within the time it took for Jaq to glance to the case and back, the blaster was levelled at his head.
"Nice move."
"Indeed. Now it's nothing personal, but goodbye Rand." His fingers tightened on the trigger, but if he was fast, Jaq was at Lightspeed. A booted foot clipped the muzzle of the blaster, sending the shot glancing against the wall.
"I don't like people pointing blasters at me." Jaq's arm swung round, bringing the vibroblade slicing through the man's abdomen.
The man's face was alight with shock, as he dropped to his knees, clutching the red mass seeping out of the whole in his stomach wall. He opened his mouth to speak, but Jaq thrust the vibroblade through the man's open mouth, and felt it penetrate his skull.
Jaq calmly withdrew the blade, setting it on the floor next to the body, and looked over the dead fake businessman's body, already figuring out how to clean up the blood and hide the corpse.
I opened my bag and found a pair of gloves, and set to work, my mind already drifting to the next rendezvous on Adelphi XII.

Description
Recruitment
The Corellian Whiskey burned like fire, warming my belly. As if anything could warm my mind... The bottle fell from my hand, smashing on the cold durasteel flooring.
Yet another Cantina. Everything starts in a cantina. That hell hole on Peragus, the assassination attempt on Nar Shaddaa, being recruited to kill that Quarren on Telos, my Recruitment by the Republic. Even Revan's agents approached me in a cantina...

Taris - One Month after the Battle of Malachor V
Jaq
The three humans walked in, cloaked in black from head to foot, with hoods covering their faces. I could see several places where concealed weapons could be drawn quickly. Their manner immediately attracted the attention of the cantina's patrons. In the blink of an eye the entire clientele had drawn blasters and were now training them on those who dared disturb their drinking.
The bartender lent over the bar and spoke in a gruff voice, rubbing a clean glass with a dirty cloth. "You lost? ‘Cos you sure don't mean to be in here." There was no threat in his voice; it was evident enough in the amount of firepower trained on the visitors.
"We will not disturb you for long; we merely wish to have a conversation outside with one of your...wonderful clients." The middle of the three spoke in a cultured voice, tinged with disgust at his surroundings.
I had recognized what they were looking for. I set down my Juma, and walked up to the middle, obviously the leader, and extended my hand. "Jaq Rand, pleased to see ya."
He looked surprised that I had so easily identified myself, and extended his hand, reaching out for mine, sealing his fate.
Then I opened the cage, and the real Jaq stepped out.
Jaq grabbed the leader's arm before he could react, jerked the man towards him, and with a crack the cloaked man's neck snapped. Jaq let the broken body fall, pulling a knife concealed in the folds of the man's cloak, and plunging it into the second man. He stared in disbelief as the blade pierced his throat, his blood spurting over Jaq.
But the knife was already moving. The third man had turned and was running for the door; a portal of hope in what he knew would otherwise be his death.
Jaq merely smiled, that of a predator that had finally been fed, but not yet sated.
He weighed the knife. A three, maybe three and a half, and let it fly.
The knife sliced through tendons, muscles, and ligaments, and the cloaked man collapsed, the knife buried in his knee.
Jaq walked over calmly, and yanked the knife out, cutting through more muscle as he did so.
The knife was bathed in blood; Jaq wiped it on his clothes. He rolled the man over; drinking in the groan of pain he gave. He yanked him off the floor, slung him over his shoulder, and walked out the cantina's back door into the alleyways behind. None of the cantina's other visitors tried to stop him, they knew his reputation.
The man gasped as he was thrown to the ground in the deserted alleyway. His fall had carried him onto a few flimsiplast crates, which splintered beneath his weight. He tried to scrabble away, but Jaq merely grabbed the man, flipped him over again, and smiled his cruel little smile. His hand moved lightening fast, plunging the knife into the man, drawing it up his arm. "Now, you can tell me why you want to talk to me, or I can kill you in the most painful possible way I have time for right now. Who knows, I might do that anyway."
The man's hood had fallen back, revealing a face devoid of colour, fear evident in his pale blue eyes. He spoke quickly; desperate to get the words out before Jaq did anything else "We are emissaries! You sent a message to one of our men concerning joining up!"
"So I did. Looks like I should spare you. But then again, I know the difference between emissaries and a kill squad." He balanced the knife on the end of his index finger.
He spun the knife, and watched the way it caught the light on each revolution.
"Yes, I probably should let you live, but I do a lot of things that I shouldn't."
Jaq snapped his fingers, sending the knife spinning into the man's forehead.
Jaq pulled out the knife, wiped it on the man's cloak, and stuffed it into his boot. He searched through the man's clothes, and found an empty wallet, with just an address scrawled on a piece of flimsi in it. Derringer Street, Apartment Block 9, Apartment 601. "Looks like I have a meeting." He inhaled the blood, exhaled, and entered the cantina again."
He glanced at the bartender, who was mopping up the blood, the two other bodies nowhere to be seen, and tossed a few coins onto the bar.
"Put them on my tab."
Dubrak Nad approached his door. He checked the three hairs he had left there were in place, and passed his keycard through the slot. He opened his door, and deactivated the alarm.
That's good, none of my security measures have been tripped, and everything's in the right place.
He set down his black briefcase, and opened the door to his office. He hit the light switch, muttering "All I've got to do now is wait for the report, they should have dealt with Rand by now." and stared in shock at the figure sitting on his chair, his feet resting on Dubrak's desk.
Jaq
Dubrak was already in motion, when I swung my feet off the desk, diving behind a bantha hide armchair in the corner of the room, and pulling out a heavy blaster pistol concealed behind it. He then realized that had I wanted to kill him, he would have been ambushed in the dark.
He stood up slowly, obviously preparing for a blaster bolt to hit his chest.
"I'm ‘fraid it's not that easy for your men to get the drop on me." I nodded at him, and set down the datapad I had been holding onto the desk.
"Ah. You must be Rand." The man spoke like a clerk, but I could see the small details, the tensing of the knees, the bulges where armour was being worn under clothes, the way his hand drifted close to the knife concealed in his expensive suit, whilst the other held the blaster in an overly nonchalant way. If I make a move, he'll pretend not to be countering with the blaster, whilst drawing his knife and stabbing me rather instead. But I'm not going to make a move. Yet.
"Your datapad is very interesting, Dubrak." I grinned "Do you mind if I call you Dubrak?"
He seemed unsettled by me knowing his name, but shook his head. Well, I had a few more surprises lined up for him. "I'm surprised that Revan hasn't found out yet."
He stiffened "Found out what?"
"That you have been sending kill squads after all the promising recruits." I savoured the look of shock on his face at my revelation.
His eyes darted around the room, seeking something he could use to his advantage. "You can't prove it."
I held up the datapad "Wrong, I'm afraid. Dead wrong. And if you don't tell me how I can get into contact with whoever you send the useless recruits to, you will die."
The man looked resigned "There is a ticket for the Mesmerise, a Cruise Ship heading to Kuat, in the top left drawer. You will be met in your cabin by your contact; he makes the journey regularly to pick up any new recruits."
"Good." I stood up out of his chair, and pulled out the knife I had taken earlier. "There's just one thing left to do."
Jaq was looking for another fix.
As Jaq had guessed, the man went for his knife first. Three fingers from his left hand were severed by Jaq's knife, blood spurting out over the floor, and the man's knife plummeted to the ground.
"I don't appreciate people trying to use knives on me. Knives are mine." He shoved the man to the floor, and then picked up the man's knife.
He tested the blade. "Now this, this is a well maintained knife. Too heavy for throwing, but if you want to do some damage in close quarters, very nice."
He looked into the man's eyes, seeing the fear, and laughed. "You deal with me, try to kill me, and then you're afraid when I react like this."
Jaq stared at him for a few more seconds watching his panic grow greater and greater. "Always remember, when you play with fire..."
He stabbed the knife down viciously into the man's heart, and left it quivering there. He surveyed his work, noting the man's dead eyes, and nodded with satisfaction.
"You get burned."
Jaq
I grinned. Finally away from that pit of a world, and heading to new, very interesting employment. The Mesmerise truly lived up to its namesake. Far better accommodated than those rust buckets we used as transports in the war.
I read the ticket in my hand. Cabin 164. Well it's as good a number as any.
I stepped into a turbolift and keyed for my floor. As I descended, I felt the ship shiver, just for a moment, and then it was still again. They must have top-of-the-line hyper-drive engines to make a jump that seamlessly. I nodded my head in admiration. If I ever get a ship, it's going to be that quiet. Stealthy as a Firaxa Shark approaching an unwary swimmer. But, of course, a hell of a lot faster.
The doors swung open in front of me. I walked down an empty corridor, searching for my room. The ship seems deserted; the other passengers must have already gone to dinner. I read the numbers of all the rooms we passed; 151, 152.........162, 163, 164.
I scanned the ticket through the door's locking mechanism, and it swung open to my touch.
As I had expected, there was already a man in there, sitting in a comfortable chair reading from a datapad, with a datacard casing labelled Horticultural Galactic sitting on the small table within arms' reach of the man.
He glanced up at me, his hand briefly brushing a concealed pocket in his jacket as he did so. Concealed weapon there, vibroblade, knife or blaster. In a crowded ship with little sound-proofing, I'd go with vibroblade or knife. The man was dressed in the most recent Coruscanti fashions, well cut white trousers and jacket, and a black linen shirt underneath. He wore a ring on his ring finger, a simple band of gold, a tradition that had died out in a large part of the galaxy, but was making a comeback in high society. All this led to the typical image of a married Coruscanti businessman, who could afford to travel first-class.
I knew I looked a lot scruffier than the man, with my black trousers, grey shirt, and my lucky ribbed-jacket. The man I had procured it from had guaranteed it blaster-proof. Too bad for him it wasn't knife-proof. I had had to take off my blaster-belt when boarding the ship; they had a strict ‘No-Weapons' rule in all places on ship. They still didn't notice the knife in my luggage though. I grinned. I wasn't quite as defenceless as the man probably thought.
"Mr Rand." It wasn't a question.
"Who? Where?" I shot off the comment, trying to provoke an angry response from the man, but drew up a blank.
"I have been told to give you these documents, and to make sure you make no copies of them." The business man had addressed me formally. I feel like a public committee.
He flipped open the clasps of his briefcase, and handed me a flimsiplast box. "Inside are non-oxidised formo-sheets. On contact with oxygen they will disintegrate in 3 minutes. Please memorise your instructions clearly, and follow them to the letter. They will guide you to Lord Revan's service"
The box was vacuum sealed, with one-use catches on it. I knew that no-one could have read them before me except from the writer. I popped the seals, and pulled out the information.
I sank into an armchair facing the one he himself sat in, and began to read through the document, noting where it said I needed to change ships and contact various agents,
The last line was the most interesting for me. The bearer of these is an assassin from the Republic. Kill him.
I smiled. Well Jaq, looks like you can fill your appetite already.
Jaq looked up suddenly, startling the fake businessman, who was now sat opposite him.
"I trust everything is satisfactory?" The man still spoke in his formal manner, but now there was the air of a conspirator to his speech.
"All but one thing." Jaq stood up, and picked up a small stone statue off the coffee table behind his chair. It was a statue of a faceless Jedi, wielding a stone lightsaber. A symbol of an outmoded bunch of fools.
He listened carefully, hearing the man almost silently rise from his chair and approach him from behind.
He hefted the statue, and swung it round, hitting the man in the chest, relishing the feel as several of the man's ribs gave way. A vibroblade spun out of the man's hand, making a loud sound as it hit the floor, setting Jaq's teeth on edge. He let go off the statue and swung his arm down, grabbing the fallen vibroblade from the floor. His hand gripped the Agrinium grip tightly, and he watched as the man, still wheezing backed away from him, his eyes darting from Jaq to the door.
Jaq smirked "As I see it, you have two choices; try and over power me, or run for the door and hope I don't kill you before you reach it." He picked up a vase full of flowers, and hefted it. The man across the room raised his arm instinctively, preparing to ward off any thrown objects, but instead Jaq hurled it at the door switch, and the door slid shut soundlessly.
"Look. I can pay you if you let me live!" Desperation tinged the man's wheezing voice, and he gestured behind Jaq. "That case contains 100,000 Credits, my payment for this job. It's yours if you let me live!"
"And what is to stop me taking it from your cold dead body?" Jaq returned, but couldn't resist a glance behind at the case. The man moved like a snake, a hold-out blaster falling into his hands. Within the time it took for Jaq to glance to the case and back, the blaster was levelled at his head.
"Nice move."
"Indeed. Now it's nothing personal, but goodbye Rand." His fingers tightened on the trigger, but if he was fast, Jaq was at Lightspeed. A booted foot clipped the muzzle of the blaster, sending the shot glancing against the wall.
"I don't like people pointing blasters at me." Jaq's arm swung round, bringing the vibroblade slicing through the man's abdomen.
The man's face was alight with shock, as he dropped to his knees, clutching the red mass seeping out of the whole in his stomach wall. He opened his mouth to speak, but Jaq thrust the vibroblade through the man's open mouth, and felt it penetrate his skull.
Jaq calmly withdrew the blade, setting it on the floor next to the body, and looked over the dead fake businessman's body, already figuring out how to clean up the blood and hide the corpse.
I opened my bag and found a pair of gloves, and set to work, my mind already drifting to the next rendezvous on Adelphi XII.