Grot knelt, pressing his knee into the soft, black sand of the beach. Waves crashed along the shore eroding away his tracks, filling the air with the calming, natural chaos of the sea. His scaly brown fingers traced the boot print in the soft, dark sand. To the eye of a skilled tracker, the print was obviously human. Grot almost smiled, if his lips could curl into a smile. Instead, he made the quiet, excited hissing sound his people made. He examined the print, analyzing the depth and the stride length. Even the style and tread patterns were important. The print most likely came from a male, or perhaps a confused female, but more likely a male. Adjacent to the tracks were several wavy patterns in the sand like a snake’s trail in the desert sand. Cloaks and robes made patterns like that when drug through sand. Force users wore capes and robes like some kind of superheroes. Grot had never understood that. Why wear fancy clothes when armor had use?
The Trandoshan growled quietly. A human was a treat. Force users were something else and his employer had neglected to mention the presence of Force users on the planet. Grot grabbed the commlink off his belt and flipped it open.
A silky-smooth female voice flowed out of the comm, cutting through the static, “Find the package?”
Grot made a little grunt before speaking in thickly accented Basic, “You didn’t say there would be one of them hokey Force magic types,” The Trandoshan paused for a moment, contemplative, “Add another thirty or I turn back.” He could have asked for more, but this was an easy sell. That, and the footprint didn’t look that big.
Too many mercenaries were obsessed with milking their benefactors for all they could. Sure, the Trandoshan wanted to get paid but he wasn’t a barbarian. He would say what he wanted and get what he wanted. They could take that or leave it. The problem was most employers expected the game and Grot wasn’t playing it.
The woman’s sigh echoed from the commlinks speaker, “Very well. Just don’t call me until you have the package and our newfound friend is dead.” The commlink went silent.
The Trandoshan looked to his hovering probe droid. “Find the Jedi. Report back.”
The droid let out an affirmative beep and sped off and out of sight. Grot looked up and down the coast at the towering rocky outcroppings many that appeared precariously balanced and ready to collapse. The outcroppings were surrounded by waves of blue-green grass, the color warped by the clouds which opaqued the sky. Grot was happy; the terrain favored him. It wouldn’t be all that challenging to set up an ambush or find a good sniping spot. This would go well.
It’s about time I was properly recognized with a real mission, Jinius thought as he strode along the cobblestone path. Around him, the valley was full of beehive-shaped stone huts that made up the village. The cobbled path ran between the huts forming a little courtyard that circled a large fire pit making up the village center. The amphibian-like locals, called Caretakers, milled around wearing their strange linen clothes.
Ahch-To was unlike any world Jinius had visited. The world was almost entirely comprised of ocean and sea apart from chains of diminutive islands forming long archipelagos. Because the open ocean touched many of the island’s sides and the sheer incline of the land jutting up from the water, a constant wind blew through the craggy islands. The splendor and beauty of the planet were only eclipsed by the presence of the Force that lingered all around. Ahch-To had a legacy to which most worlds could not compare. The planet was the original home of the first Jedi temple.
Jinius walked into the little hut that he’d come call home in the few days since his arrival. One corner had a simple bedroll laid flat while the rest of the room was overtaken by a collection of various books, many which were bound with thick leather and tied with fraying cord; pottery in peculiar shapes marked with strange patterns; and even some old clay and stone tablets carved with ancient petroglyphs and writings. Jinius looked over the assortment of items. This was Ahch-To’s legacy. And, it was staggering. Nearly every force user could trace some part of their heritage to this one planet. Jinius was practically giddy.
Pulling out his datapad Jinius began taking notes and cataloging the artifacts. His senses suddenly tingled. It was a familiar kind of poke the Force gave him from time to time. Usually, the sudden twinge of knowing deep inside was a sign that Jinius had a guest.
Several Hours Later
Dusk had descended on the watery planet. Darkness crept along the horizon casting the evening sun’s rays through the hazy atmosphere, throwing up ribbons of color on the horizon. The evening threw the porgs into a symphony of sounds calling their chicks to roost for the night. It was a lovely sound. Grot liked the noise; it masked him. Nighttime was his time.
The Dosh crawled along chips of stone and pebbles that filled the space between two jagged peaks. He was surrounded by varied cliffs on all sides except for the narrow path made the alpine pass. The wind that cut through the towering stone monoliths caused Grot’s armor to hum quietly. The breeze caught the front section of his armor just right causing it to rattle. He wasn’t worried. Through the breeze and the porgs, Grot would have to have been expected for someone to pick out his sounds from those of the wind and birds.
Sitting S-5 Oathbreaker out in front of him, Grot quietly unholstered one of his BR-5010s and rested it next to him, just where it was barely visible in his periphery. The Oathbreaker paid the bills and the pistol was insurance. If someone snuck up, he could wheel around and put two rounds into them before they got too close. The Privateer tapped his rifle. It didn’t move, the grass affording it a quiet, supportive cushion.
Resting his cheek against the oathbreaker’s stock, Grot peered through the weapon’s scope. Immediately, it whirred and adjusted, focusing in on a little camp a hundred or so meters down into the valley. Grot’s positioning was flawless. He could see smoke rising straight up from the fire. The wind was still. He wasn’t so far that gravity or humidity would be much of a factor. More importantly, his target, Jinius Griffin, from what his droid had figured out, sat quietly on a stone bench staring into the blazing campfire.
The gray Jedi wore the light armor of an Inquisitor. Grot made an excited hiss, inaudible to all but him. Hunting Inquisitorius was so exhilarating. He was beginning to get a collection of Inquisitor gear. Several locals milled around the gray Jedi. They wouldn’t be a problem; they didn’t even appear armed.
The Dosh placed his hand on the rifle’s handguard and crept his finger to rest on the trigger. He pushed the weapon slightly with his shoulder. It was still secure. Grot felt the familiar weight and smooth polish of the trigger mechanism. He let out a long careful breath and focused on his heartbeat, calming himself before he took the shot.
Thump. He lined up the crosshairs on the gray Jedi's chest. Thump. Grot sucked in a deep, relaxing breath. Thump. He glanced at the smoke one last time; the breeze hadn’t changed. Thump. He released a slow, even exhale while he began to squeeze the trigger.
He heard rocks shifting close by. The rustling of fabric.
Grot rolled to one side instinctively grabbing his pistol and bringing the weapon to bear. A loud, amphibian scream echoed from the lips of a local behind him followed by the flash of movement as the creature dove behind a rock. The Dosh let out a curse as he lowered the pistol. He’d almost given away his position. Truth be told, the local had done that for him, but a scream was far less recognizable at his distance the town than the crack of a slugthrower firing. Grot quickly went back to his rifle. He needed to gather his things and change locations. If the gray Jedi below was playing the smallest amount of attention, the man would be headed toward the hills to investigate.
After grabbing his things, the Trandoshan started down the steep, rocky path that led back to the coast. Grot quickly turned to hurry down the mountain pass. As he turned, he found a small, folded piece of paper lying on the ground in front of him, where the local likely had been. Curious, Grot picked it up.
“Hello,” the note read in Basic, “I apologize for the surprise, but I think things would go better if we talked. Please don’t hurt Baltha. She is a lovely woman and couldn’t hurt you if she tried. I suspect you are here to meet with me. Come down, we’ll share some milk, and then we can talk this through.
Sincerely,
Hunter Jinius Lu’Kar Griffin”
Grot scratched his head. He’d never gotten a note from a target like this before. Moreover, he’d never gotten a note inviting him to dinner. He started to fold the note back. He wasn’t interested in meeting the gray Jedi up close. He’d be a fool for going down to meet his target. He folded the note closed intending to ignore it. There was more writing on the back.
“P.S. I assumed you would say no. I really hate to make threats but I’m afraid your droid won’t be returning home if you don’t come. I’m sure with a little work I can figure out something about your employer. I wonder how much I could get for that kind of information?”
The Transdosian crushed the paper in his hand. The damned ape was taunting him. And, it was bloody working.
Jinius sat quietly by the fire. The orange flames leaped and danced, licking the sky with heat. As soon as he’d heard Baltha’s scream, Jinius had encouraged the remaining Caretakers to shelter in their homes or head down to the beaches. They’d only get hurt if they stuck around. The droid was tucked away in a hut: it would be foolish to have the droid out during the negotiations.
A few minutes passed after the scream before Jinius saw the darkened form of his pursuer. His visitor walked into the light of the fire. The dark armor-clad man was much larger than Jinius had expected. Jinius wasn’t short by human standards and his visitor dwarfed him. The enormous visitor wasn’t a fool either; he’d drawn his slugthrowers already.
“Going to wear that mask all night or do I actually get to talk to you?” Jinius asked. It wasn’t a taunt, but rather an observation. Jinius assumed that taking your helmet off for a conversation was normal etiquette. Normally, he’d never given etiquette the slightest amount of attention, however, Master Kiriyu encouraged him to “Be normal.” This was a start.
The man in the death trooper armor cocked his head before reaching up and carefully removing the helmet. He only took one gun off Jinius at a time. Underneath the dark armor was the green and brown scaled skin of a Trandoshan.
Trandoshans. Why’d it have to be a Trandoshan? Jinius thought to himself. He wasn’t looking forward to this.
“Hello!” Jinius said excitedly. “Good to meet you.”
The Trandoshan stood quietly, his pistols leveled at the gray Jedi.
“I guess talking is out of the question?” Jinius asked. The lizard shook its head. “I suspect you came for the droid?”
The lizard nodded in agreement. It was a short, simple gesture.
“And, I suspect, based on your posture and that you’re showing your teeth, a conversation is not on the agenda?”
The lizard shook its head again.
“Are you sure?” Jinius asked. He was already pooling power at his fingertips. He sensed the Force surge around him it caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand. It was invigorating.
Grot didn’t bother to answer. He fired.
Immediately Jinius flung his hand out and a translucent, light blue barrier sprung up between them. It rippled and screamed as bullets slammed into it sounding like stones thrown onto the ice. The series of shots formed fractures on the near-invisible wall. Jinius dashed to the side. A pair of shots chased after him. He narrowly avoided being hit as the pair of shots both punched holes in his robes. He was heading to put the fire between him and his assassin.
From behind the fire, the Jinius stood up, throwing a punch in the air sending a concentrated blast of telekinesis towards the Trandoshan. The lizard simply shrugged it off as the impact made a resonating thong against the armor.
Jinius shrugged as the Dosh leveled his blaster, “I chose poorly then?” His expression was disappointed.
Grot fired. The bullets screaming through the fire. He couldn’t see well through the flames; they obscured his vision, probably one downside of seeing in infrared. However, he expected they’d at least cause the damned wizard to duck. He was right. The gray Jedi quickly fell behind the flames rolling out of sight.
Jinius hurried around to flank the Trandoshan. He charged at the lizard’s side igniting his cerulean blade before realizing his mistake. The lizard shot Jinius in the shoulder. The impact threw Jinius back several feet through the doorway to one of the huts with a crash. He lay in a pile of splintered wood as the blood began to seep down his arm.
