Winter didn't improve Camp Arlette's ugliness, but at least it covered up a good part of it. Trash and dirt got buried under snow, leaks froze up, and a thick white coat gave the benevolent observer a chance to imagine buildings differently than they really were.
Aleena Sakkar was everything but benevolent though, and hated every inch of the city just the same. The noise, the crowds, the streets that were suffocatingly narrow after the open spaces of the wild. She couldn't see past the next corner, and there were people behind her back all the time. An ambush lying at every turn, a killer behind every door, held back only by this so-called 'civilization'. Aleena didn't trust it; she trusted only the safety of a hole between a thick tree's roots and the hard steel of a blaster's handle. Get the business done, then get back to the forest where she belongs.
She had been circling around since morning, searching for a place she never thought she'd want to return to. It took time; she had been gone too long to tell one dull street from the other. She was almost at the doorstep when it finally clicked. She shoved a tottering Jawa out of the way and turned down an alley where, according to her memory, the Blind Blurrg should have been.
And there it was. Aleena entered.
The place still smelled like the wrong end of a bantha, and they hadn't fixed the lighting either. Aleena scanned the interior. The booths were all empty, save for one. The usual one. A Twi-lek sat there with lekkus fatter than a centennial honey stalk, a woman with bright pink hair next to him, and a bodyguard standing next to the table, arms crossed, leaning on the wall. A bowl of steaming, slimy food in front of the alien. For the woman, an empty plate and, of course, a bottle.
All the gang in one place. Perfect. Aleena walked up to them and threw herself on the bench across. The bodyguard stepped closer.
Prenna flashed an amused grin. Zucho's reaction took longer and was less entertained.
"Chau" he growled "What do you want?"
"My money" her voice was dry and raspy. These were the first words she uttered in weeks.
The Twi'lek sighed into the next spoonful, like someone pestered by a persistent salesman.
"Throw her out" the guard grabbed for her arm.
It all went down in a flash. Aleena thrust her elbow into the man's stomach, doubling him over. With the very same motion she drew the blaster. The gun barked and a single shot blazed across the table. A painful cry and the clatter of shattering glass. Finally she reached out with her left toward the guard. He launched upwards, as if tugged by a rope on the ceiling. He crashed into it, then fell. A cloud of dust, shaken out of the shoddy roofing, floated down. As it settled, the bodyguard lay unconscious on the ground and Prenna clutched her arm whimpering. Aleena turned the barrel towards Zucho's distraught face.
"Okay, okay, calm down" the gangster did a reasonably good job keeping his composure, though his voice was noticeably thinner "You made your point. I'm sorry for being disrespectful, I'll give you your money."
Careful not to make a sudden move, he reached into his breast pocket and took out a wallet. He put it on the table and counted down some credit chips, pausing briefly to double-check before presenting the stash to Aleena.
"Two hundred. That's what I owe you, right? So we're settled up now."
Aleena smirked. She stood up and, ignoring the money on the table, grabbed the wallet. Zucho's face twitched, but he knew better than to protest.
"There's also a collection fee" she tossed back the two hundred at the alien "You can keep this."
She enjoyed the lingering silence as she walked out of the bar.
The next stop was not easy to find. Aleena scoured the district, watching for the neon and steel shop banners typical of this part of the town. They often revealed very little about the business they were supposed to be advertising, a frustration familiar from the job hunt months ago. These were usually the ones that traded in illicit goods; even if they broke the law they were decent enough not to put it on display.
The particular kind she was looking for had no reason to be shy, though, not in a place like Camp Arlette. She eventually noticed a promising sign above a small door: a gun and a knife crossed to form an X. The entrance was below ground level; she had to go a few steps down to reach it. An annoyingly high pitched bell announced her arrival as the door slid shut behind.
Aleena looked around. The room was uncomfortably cramped, with shelves on either side packed with blasters, powerpacks and other weaponry of all shapes and sizes. In front, a counter, spanning three quarters between the walls, behind it a door – or rather, an opening – to some dark storage space in the back.
It was from there that the store clerk, a balding, hunchbacked old man scurried forward, with a bright, if scantly toothed, smile.
"Welcome, young lady, welcome! What can I interest you in? A weapon for self-defense, perhaps?"
The patronizing tone irritated Aleena.
"I already have that" she replied coldly, brushing aside her cloak to show off the arsenal on her belt. Two blasters, a knife, and of course the lightsaber "I'm looking for something for the long range."
To his credit, the clerk quickly corrected his attitude.
"Of course, ma'am, of course. A minute, please, I'll see what I have in stock."
He disappeared in the back. Aleena pattered on the counter, surveying the weapons on display as she waited. There was baffling variety of handheld blasters, rifles, maintenance accessories and ammunition, both in traditional shapes and strange forms designed for tentacles or tails or whatever weird alien limbs. She located a powerpack that looked like it would go with her primary blaster. The weapon was nearly out of juice; a refill had been due for a while now.
The clerk emerged balancing a pile of guns in his arms. He spread the haul on the counter.
"These are the more popular choices I can offer. Come close, come close, take a look. Here, an old DC-15x from the war, not the newest tech, but proven, very reliable, you can't make a mistake with this one. Or if you're willing to spend a bit more for extra features, I can recommend this DC-17 here. It is not a long-range rifle per se, but can function as one with a sniper attachment – which is included in the package, naturally. It is a two-in-one design, truly unique, once used by some of the clone army's most elite troops. Not easy to come by on the market, not easy at all. But of course it's a highly specialized gun, and might not be worth it for you if you can't make use of its particular strengths. In that case, if you're looking for a cheaper, more streamlined option, I can recommend – besides the 15x – this MK model. I owe many satisfied customers to this beauty. It's light and precise, a very, very good rifle."
Aleena picked up the 15x to have a closer look. Truth to be told, she had no idea what to look for. She didn't intend to admit that to the shopkeeper, though.
"Of course, if I knew the intended purpose of the weapon, I would be able to make a more informed recommendation."
Aleena's lip twitched.
"Hunting."
"And what is your prey, if you don't mind me asking?" the old man asked with a wry smile.
Aleena peeked through the scope, contemplating the answer.
"Rats."
Genk stopped the speeder. It was the biggest model in the clan's inventory, with a large cargo bed and a heated cabin for up to six passengers. He got out through the front door, Furdo, Piltz, and Mogg through the back. Jopler lingered.
"Come on, man, let's go" said Mogg.
"Sorry mate, but I'd rather have you shot than me."
"Oh, for the three moons, get ahold of yourself already. The witch's gone. You know it."
"I don't."
Mogg rolled his eyes. Genk was much less patient.
"Get out of there you wimp or I will shoot you!" he yelled.
It didn't look like he was kidding. Mogg, Genk, even Vando Yuluga himself could say whatever about the witch being gone for good, the truth was that everyone was still like an overloaded towing cable, tense and ready to snap. Yes, nobody had seen her in almost three weeks. Yes, she had never attacked groups bigger than two in the first place. But after dozens of mutilated corpses and men vanishing without a trace, nothing short of her dead body would make them feel safe.
Jopler reluctantly climbed out. The drop point was a landing pad at the edge of a cliff. There was at least thirty meters of open terrain until the forest on either side, peppered only with a few lone trees and rocks; even more up the slope launching opposite of the cliff. Good visibility. Good snow cover, easy to spot anything not white. Relatively safe from ambush. Still, they moved quickly. The crates were unloaded and lined up next to the landing pad.
Jopler fiddled with his belt nervously.
"They should be here by now."
"Well they are not" growled Genk "Don't start crying on me, baby porrg, or by heavens I will smack you so hard you'll see the five gods in six places."
"Why can't we just leave the goods here? They'll find it."
"Because we need to collect the payment, idiot. Shut up already."
Jopler opened his mouth to reply… and his brain came out through it. He fell on his face lifeless. The group froze in shock. A loud clap; the sound of the shot arrived a second later. That shook them them up. Piltz screamed something unintelligible. They all ran for cover, firing blindly in all directions.
Aleena watched the ridiculous fireworks through the MK's scope. She was way too far away to worry about getting hit. One of the Weequay fumbled for the radio. She picked him off, then destroyed the device with a second shot. Another jumped into the speeder. Aleena chuckled. There was a fuel canister on the cargo bed. They just don't learn, do they. The vehicle went up in flames.
One idiot took cover on the wrong side of the crates. Aleena tried to get a good look at his face. She was out for a gangster that wounded her and escaped during a botched ambush a month ago, and this one looked superficially similar. Probably not the same, though. She shot him in the head.
That should leave just one survivor. But where's he gone?
She scanned through the field repeatedly, frustrated that she lost a target. She fired another shot into her first victim, as if trying to punish him for her own clumsiness. Just as she grudgingly decided to give up, however, she noticed the tiniest flick of motion on the scope. A slight shift of color in the gap between two sizable locks next to the landing pad.
She aimed at it and pulled the trigger. The bolt splattered on the face of the rock. Another try. Miss. Miss. Miss. The last shots landed meters off-target as she started violently mashing the trigger.
Calm down. She breathed long and slow to dispel the rising red haze. She closed her eyes and painted the trajectory in her mind, trying to feel rather than calculate it. She let the Force flow and guide her hand. Careful to keep her focus, she looked into the scope and adjusted her aim ever so slightly. The next bolt flew right through the gap.
Done. Good hunting. Aleena caressed the rifle's stock. It's going to be so much easier now.
She made a final check on the scene. Something peculiar caught her attention: a young six-leg hiding under a bush. These plump, furry creatures could rarely ever be seen. They had better ears than Aleena had eyes, which usually allowed them to get away before being noticed. But this one was either injured or really dumb and tried to conceal itself instead of fleeing. Or it actually wanted to be her dinner, in which case Aleena was happy to oblige. She aimed and fired one last shot.
She climbed down the hill at a comfortable pace. Where was that bush? Oh, right, closer to the forest. She picked up the six-leg and headed back. Her path led near the landing pad. Seven crates stood there still; whoever they were meant for failed to show up. Driven by curiosity, she lifted the lid on the closest one. Guns and ammo packs. A ton of them. Just after having spent a fortune on a single rifle. Aleena growled something in dissatisfaction and turned away.
But then she had a great idea.
An hour later, the client finally arrived. A starship descended from the sky; one of those battered, misshapen ones used for cargo hauls by Outer Rim folk. Aleena stopped gutting the six-leg and crawled up to the observation post with rifle in hand.
The ship settled on the landing pad, and shortly a ramp lowered. A man came out and looked around. He must have spotted the destroyed speeder. His posture suddenly became much more cautious: shoulders dropped, knees bent ever so slightly, and a blaster in hand. Aleena grinned and watched.
He made some uncertain steps to one direction and then the other, looking around, inspecting a patch of bloody snow, clearly unsure how to approach the unexpected situation. Then, at long last, he went for the crates. Though much too far to be heard, Aleena instinctively covered her mouth to prevent laughter from breaking out. Suppressed, it shook her from the inside. It was hard to keep her eye on the scope.
He lifted the lid. The reaction was hysterical. Faced by five severed heads, the man slipped and fell. He tried to back away and get up at the same time in a flurry of comical, uncoordinated motion, like a panicked insect dropped on ice, losing his blaster in the process. When he finally succeeded, he ran back into the ship. The ramp withdrew, and they took off just a few seconds later.
Aleena couldn't hold it in anymore. She rolled on her back and laughed, laughed up to the cold winter sky.
The clouds were gone, the sun was shining, and some early flowers had already stuck their heads out of the snow. The long winter had finally passed, and spring was just around the corner.
The ground was still frozen, though, so digging for roots remained a laborious business. Aleena crouched at the edge of a clearing next to a comb shrub, as she called it, a short plant with an array of straight, thin branches shooting out from its stubby trunk. Even those branches were edible, at least on the younger ones, and its roots were even softer. They carried a bitter taste and too much could upset her stomach, as she had learned the hard way, but after a week long diet of meat she wanted something different.
Getting to them was a little tricky, however. She had two tools for the job: the lightsaber and a knife. The former was too large and unwieldy for precision cuts, the latter having a hard time penetrating into the frozen soil. So she had to use both: lightsaber to make a hole, knife to sift out the roots.
She was in the second phase now, poking around with the blade, but had a difficult time getting anything out. Perhaps she should work on it with the saber a bit more.
Setting the knife aside she reached to her belt. There was a strange tingling at the back of her head, or… no, it was the Force.
Aleena barely had enough time to yank out the lightsaber and deflect the bolt aimed at her.
She dove behind the bush and scrambled to get away. Another shot landed nearby, she could even feel the heat.
She made it behind a tree and sat up, back to the trunk. A sniper, but where? She closed her eyes to better concentrate on the Force. Animals, plants, nothing that felt sentient. He must be too far away. Or it's a droid.
At least it seemed he lost her too; as she peeked out, nothing happened. She reached out a hand towards the comb shrub, where her things still were. The rifle shifted, then started to slide towards the trees.
A shot blazed through the clearing again and set the shrub alight. It was not meant for Aleena; the assassin figured out what she was doing and tried to disable the weapon. She pulled harder. The rifle jumped into the air. Another shot, another miss.
Aleena grabbed the MK and pulled it behind the tree. She smirked. A familiar thrill ran up her spine. Game on.
Keeping her senses tuned to the Force and herself tightly on the ground, she crawled out of cover. Slowly, centimeters at a time, keeping to the shadow.
She made it deeper into the forest, then curved back, coming up to the clearing some thirty meters away from where she'd originally been. The terrain was not favorable. No ridge, no large stones to use as cover. After evaluating her options, she crawled to a tree, and slowly, very slowly sat up.
Her head was high just enough to peek over a bush in front. Moving her legs to an at least acceptably comfortable position, she raised the rifle and scanned the opposing treeline through the scope searching for the sniper.
Nothing. Is he even still there?
Aleena picked out a tree near the comb shrub. A sickly, drying pine, the kind that made a good firestarter. With a surge of focus, she broke a branch, making an audible crack.
The answer didn't wait; a plasma bolt blasted through the tree's crown.
So he hasn't given up yet. Aleena couldn't catch the muzzle flash, so she tried repeating the trick. But this time, there was no fire.
This guy is a pretty quick learner. A battle of patience, then.
Aleena wedged a forearm between her hip and the rifle to make supporting it easier. And then she waited, eye on the scope, finger on the trigger.
After a few minutes of quiet, life returned to the clearing. Birds came and flew away. Rodents scurried forward from among tree roots, shyly approaching the supplies Aleena left behind. But in the air, an uneasiness hung, the tension of a silent but deadly standoff.
Drip, drip, drip.
Snow was melting on the tree above, the ice-cold drops landing directly on the back of Aleena's neck. She clenched her teeth, but didn't move or even shiver. Any motion now could be fatal.
The sun continued its steady march westwards, passing the tip of its arc. Shadows shrunk and grew again, changing orientation. The air was cooler, or at least so it seemed to Aleena in her idleness.
Drip, drip, drip.
Her arm, strained by the weight of the rifle, stopped hurting and went numb. She risked a little movement to get the blood flowing. The sun inched near the horizon and started to change hue.
It was certainly colder now, even the dripping stopped.
A beam of sunlight broke through the canopy from a new angle, and as Aleena carefully peeked back, she saw a tide of brightness coming right at her. Soon, her position would be illuminated.
She had to move. One leg up and then behind, and then two. She lowered her upper body, one centimeter at a time, until she was down on the ground.
The beam was getting close.
Aleena started to crawl. One knee up, push, and then the other. The scraping of her clothes felt like thunderstorm. Her shoulders passed the tree trunk, then her hip. She shifted her legs forward and her body in front of the trunk, exposed to fire but safe from light.
The beam of sunlight, like some death ray, passed her and shot out over the clearing.
And then, just as the sun touched the earth, Aleena saw a glint across the clearing. Light reflecting on the assassin's scope.
She raised the rifle and fired two shots. No counter came.
The duel was over.
Still, Aleena moved carefully. She retreated into the forest, and then went around the clearing among the cover of the trees to approach the sniper's position. She slowed down even more as she drew near, moving from tree to tree, lightsaber in hand, ready for anything.
Her heart jumped.
A body lay behind a bush. A dark-clad, motionless giant. Its shape, its armor...
No, no. Just some oversized alien. The monster is not real.
But whatever reason told her, Aleena couldn't bring herself to make another step. Just as carefully as she approached, she backed away, the turned, and hurried into the safety of the night.
The monster is not real.
Vando Yuluga was starting to regret his life decisions. Unlike most recruits, he never had any illusions about joining the clan. He didn't expect ballad-worthy adventures or decadent riches. He knew it was going to be grueling, dangerous work, a life of deceit and violence. Good money, yes. But all the hard-earned cash and status could be gone any instant. Even the greatest kingpin would live in perpetual uncertainty. An Imperial raid, a bigger fish in the pond, and it's over. No second chances. Vando understood this well, and formulated his expectations accordingly.
Perhaps this down-to-earth attitude was the reason he could rise so quickly, and become second only to Monga in just seven years. He never slacked off. He never complained about the bleak weather or the easy luxury that was never promised. He did the job what he was told to, the menial, the dirty, the impossible – he didn't even charge extra for the latter. He was always humble, loyal to friends and ruthless to enemies. And even as a commander, it was never beneath him to get out on the field if the situation called for it.
But now even he started to feel that this was not what he signed up for. Monga was dead. In the first two months of Vando's command, over fifty men went missing. A good few of them, he assumed, not dead but deserting, but from an operational standpoint that made little difference. They weren't there to do their jobs in either case. Crates collected dust in storage, new deliveries weren't picked up. The witch was elusive as ever, and apparently had upgraded her arsenal. Her sorcery grew every day, at least in the minds of the grunts, who now swore she could fly and kill people with her eyes. The whole clan was in fear. Foot soldiers refused to step outside the safety of the headquarters and lieutenants refused to make them. Operations came to a halt. Resources were drying up. And it fell squarely on Vando to fix the entire mess.
The long range holocomm beeped and crackled tuning in to the right frequency. Vando reclined and tried to collect his thoughts. Time was running short, the list of options even shorter. Something must be done and it must be done quickly.
The connection was established. The bust of a middle-aged man, bearded and in military drapes, formed on the projector.
"Yuluga. I hope you're calling to explain what happened to my last shipment" holocomms couldn't faithfully transfer the finer details of one's expression, but the man's displeasure was no fine detail. He was even grumpier than usual; no one likes to order eighty-four rifles and receive a bunch of Weequay heads instead.
"We'll touch on that, yes."
Vando took a breath before starting his monologue. This was going to be a difficult conversation.
"We've been partners for many years now, commander, and you know I wouldn't normally bother you with our problems, but we've been put into a very difficult spot here. I'm afraid you'll have to lend us a hand, or soon I'll be unable to deliver anything at all."
The commander didn't break the connection right away. That was a good sign.
"Go on."
"So you see, we've been suffering attacks for a while now. I've done my best to counter it, but the truth is, tough as we try to look, we're not soldiers. I'm losing men left and right. If you could send over some of your folk to help us resolve this situation… we could get back to regular schedule and I'm ready to offer a discount on future sales. I'm sure it wouldn't be a problem for real professionals like you."
"I'm not going to get involved in a gang war."
"No, no, it's not a gang war. There's just this one girl, she's really pissed at us, I don't even know why. But it looks like she decided to exterminate the whole clan."
The commander cocked an eyebrow.
"One girl. Who decided the exterminate the clan, just like that."
"I know it sounds ridiculous. Trust me, I haven't a clue what's going on either. All we know is that she's likely from Excio. Jinjek used to do some business over there and I can imagine we're not popular with the locals, but this was way before my time, and I swear on my mother's life, I have absolutely no idea what this woman's problem is. Nobody does. I asked all the guys, I asked the old-timers twice, no one remembers her. And she doesn't talk, she just shoots."
"Try a bounty hunter."
"I tried, commander, I tried. She took out five of them in the space of two weeks, now nobody wants the job. Look, I understand you don't like this, you think I'm trying to get you to eliminate a rival of mine or something. But I don't even need her dead. Just off my back. If she has a grievance against the clan, I'm willing to pay reparations and resolve this in a civilized manner. But I need someone to bring her to the table."
"And you don't have enough muscle to do that. One 'girl'."
"I know, I know… but as I said, we're not soldiers. And the boys say she has… strange abilities. Move things without touching them, see in the dark. They think she's some kind of a sorcerer."
Vando had been wondering if it was wise to bring this point up. Not that he was concerned about scaring his partner – these folk went up against much more terrifying beasts –, but he didn't want to make the story an inch too tall to believe. And, though he couldn't fully decipher the change in the commander's expression, that was exactly what seemed to happen.
He gave it a few seconds, but as the commander didn't reply, he had to play the card he didn't want to.
"Look, I know that it is normally beneath you noble people to get entangled in the business of simple thugs like us. But I've got to get rid of this woman, one way or the other. If you won't help, I have another option, but that wouldn't bode well for our business. I'm loyal to my clients, you know that, but I can't put loyalty before our survival. I trust I don't have to explain this further."
He didn't. The commander's face hardened. He nodded slowly.
"Very well. I'll send over a detachment. It'll take a couple days."
Vando smiled.
"We're looking forward to welcoming them here. Thank you, commander. May our partnership long stand and prosper."
The holocomm's signal dissolved into static and Vando was left alone with his thoughts. Long stand and prosper… that was quite dubious at this point. Blackmailing one's most important client rarely pays off. But the clan must come first, and, the Weequay reminded himself, he didn't have a choice.