Redacted Location
Kar Alabrek
Tarthos
Locke stood in the armory of the small Orian Assembly police center, looking over his options. He would need to be quiet this time, and not leave any notable residue behind. That was a problem for Locke. Despite his rapidly improving stealth abilities, his preferred weapon was still the blaster rifle, and blaster rifles were anything but quiet.
The mission itself was relatively straightforward. The target was a member of the Organization. The forces of Clan Naga Sadow had hit the rogue group hard in recent weeks, destroying their base on one of the Inos moons and then attacking them on Aeotheran. Locke would not have been surprised if the Organization was shattered to pieces by now. On the other hand, a shadowy group such as they would always splinter and regroup. They were an ooze that would be very difficult to eradicate.
Locke did not know much about this current target. He only knew that they were 'high ranking' within the organization. He hoped that meant that killing them would strike a significant blow against whatever was left and put a stop to their rebuilding attempts.
The Dark Jedi frowned at the weapons on the wall rack. There weren't really any good choices for a mission like this. Knives would have probably been ideal, but Locke was as likely to needlessly reveal himself with them as actually hit his target. Instead, he stuck to his normal city robes and took nothing with him. The Krath would have to find another way, somehow.
He left the police center, letting himself be absorbed into the crowd of civilians as he moved toward the government building the Organization member was supposed to occupy. It wasn't a long walk, and on the way there Locke made a mental note of several nondescript faces. He committed them to memory, thinking they might be useful in the future. It would help to not look like a prior Dlarit president when he decided to kill someone. If any of the new Assembly's citizens recognized Locke, it could result in riots. It sometimes pained Locke that the system's civilians had such a strongly negative view of him. In their eyes, he had caused the demise of Dlarit and failed to stop at least two invasion events from outside factors. They would not know about the Crusade, or about the strategy used to repel those invaders. To the system's civilians, the Orian Incursion was a terrifiying time when their homes were occupied or burned. To the Clan, it was the War of the Sith Lords, when Naga Sadow had successfully repelled two of their most bitter rivals who had thought they could eliminate the Clan with a temporary alliance.
Chastising himself, Locke brought his mind back to the task at hand. No...it did not matter what these people thought of him now. He could fix that later. For now, Locke had a job to do. He turned into an alleyway and made sure he was alone before summoning the Force. The Dark Jedi weaved it around himself, thinking of all those faces he had seen and envisioning a nondescript conglomerate of them, bending the Force to shape the natural elements of air and light over his face before settling it there and maintaining the illusion. In the back of his head, the Krath held it constantly, barely paying any attention to it. He came back to the government building and entered, acting like he had an important purpose in being there. With so many new government officials moving in and out, he doubted the guards would have time to stop him. Indeed, they gave him one glance, dismissed him, and went back to looking for threatening looking targets.
It was an odd sort of thing. The Assembly was the Clan's cover government, so one would at first thing they would demand a high level of security. On the other hand, situations like this made infiltration and assassination missions much more straightforward.
Locke entered an elevator, making sure he was the only one in it, and called upon the Force again as it ascended. He used it to wrap light around his entire body, cloaking himself to all but the most attentive individuals. When the elevator opened on the floor the target was supposed to be on, Locke stepped out of the elevator, painfully aware of the vague shimmer in the air that would cause. Yet the guards looked a second too late, and all they saw was an empty elevator. One frowned, but then they went back to the conversation.
Moving slowly, one step at a time, Locke sneaked into the reception area beyond them. The target's quarters should have been here. Where would they be? Would they be in their bedroom, or elsewhere? Locke would have to use something unconventional this time.
After passing the final security camera, Locke dropped the cloak, but kept the facial disguise. He was glad most being did not like cameras in their apartments; the strain of holding both Force powers had left Locke with a bone-deep weariness. It would be best to finish quickly and then retire.
He casually entered the apartment, finding the man who was his target sitting on a couch and talking on a comlink. Locke waited silently behind him until he finished and turned the device off. Then the Krath called upon the Force once more. He strengthened and quickened his arms, reaching out and grasping the man's head from behind. He had no time to react as the Krath quickly twisted, wincing at the crack of bone as the man's neck snapped.
He casually entered the apartment, finding the man who was his target sitting on a couch and talking on a comlink. Locke waited silently behind him until he finished and turned the device off. Then he wove the Force one final time, invading the man's mind with the dark side. Fire, he thought, fire everywhere. The door blocked. Must breathe. Breathe and stay quiet. Don't cry out. No other option.
In Locke's mind's eye, he could almost feel the inferno he had inserted the man's mind. His apartment wasn't suffering from a small fire, it was blazing. The man leaped up, ignoring Locke. His head whipped around frantically as he tore a piece of his shirt off to cover his mouth against smoke that was not there. Locke only gave the man one path - toward the nearest window. The man backed against it.
Yes, that's right. Fire everywhere. Fire advancing. Fire touching you. Then he added one more aspect; a feeling of absolute terror joined the illusion, as Locke modified it to show an airburst coming toward the man. With a pale face, the member of the Organization leaped backward, hitting the window behind him and plummeting through. An instant later, Locke let the illusions drop. The apartment was not on fire; it was spotless save for the broken glass around the window the man had jumped through.
Cloaking himself again briefly, Locke looked down at the body several stories below. It was not moving. The deed was done, and authorities would likely never suspect that the politician had been driven to suicide by the dark side of the Force. Smiling grimly, Locke let himself out of the apartment the same way he had come in.