Kel Rasha. The Clan playground. Home for the wealthy, with facilities that would boggle the mind of the ordinary folk of the Orion System. Quo wasn’t in the slightest bit interested in the golden sands, or the playthings of the rich and famous that adorned the city by the harbour.
Twilight had fallen, and he was up slope of the fuel depot looking down onto the facility from his lofty viewpoint, scanning the facility through his viewers. There was plenty of security, but that wasn’t the foremost of his concerns. Where was this Security expert that the Black Glove had employed to guard the concern.
“On station, my Master” he spoke quietly into the comm. Voice only for this op. The light of a hologram would shine out like a lighthouse in the dark.
“Any idea who and what this Merc is?” Tasha’Vel’s voice broke through, barely audible, but just enough for Quo to hear.
“None as of yet, my Master, but I shall keep surveillance up until the mystery is solved”
“Report when you do,” a burst of static marked the end of the conversation.
Raising his viewers he scanned the perimeter fence of the facility. Working his way around the edge, his gaze finally alighted on a small building close to the water front, the only one with a visible light coming from it. That must be the guard room thought Quo increasing the magnification on the rectangular, nondescript building. This may prove to be a long night, but Quo was focussed as ever, and stood his post, concentrating solely on his target.
He watched several patrols come an go over the next three hours, mentally keeping a tally of all their comings and goings. He now knew the length of time each patrol would be circulating, when the changeovers would take place. He knew the numbers of each patrol, their patrol areas, the weapons that they carried, and the places where a couple of the patrols consumed their death-sticks whilst out there. However there had been no revelation as to the mysterious mercenary the Black Glove had employed........ up until now. The door to the guard room swung open, a silhouette outlined in the light from within. Quo zeroed in on the figure, zooming in another click, now the maximum his viewers were able to attain.
The outline was unmistakeable. Mandalorian. The armour gave the identification its positivity. He couldn’t make out the modifications from this distance, or the colours of the individual concerned, but it definitely gave him a starting point. They were all tough, and every one of them packed a few surprises within their weapons manifestos. Keying the comm he signalled Tasha’Vel.
“It’s a Mandalorian, my Master, identification not possible at this time”
“Proceed as planned, no changes are required” Another burst of static ended the consultation process.
Moving down towards the perimeter fence Quo stayed low, and fluid as a shadow as he traversed the hillside. Closing on the fence line he knew he had two or three minutes before the next patrol would make their way along this part of the perimeter. With a leap that took him well clear of the twelve foot wall, and the inner wire fence at some three meters tall Quo landed with a soft thud, barely audible against the background noise of the factory workings. Springing forwards as soon as his weight had settled on the balls of his feet he rolled into shadow, hardly leaving a trace of his landing. He knew this was all about timing, and this mission would have to be perfect to the second.
Moving beneath the gigantic pipework that seemed to feed over every foot of the plant, into the deep shadows and cover that he would need to succeed. He had watched as the Mandolorian had made its way towards the centre of the expansive fuel works, towards a large tower of which he had no idea of its purpose. Silently he covered the ground under the cover of the pipework, ensuring that he wasn’t seen by any of the patrols, their position superimposed on the map he had in his head. This would be the most difficult part for timing, he had two patrols crossing over the open area between him and the tower entrance, one patrol of two, and one of three, personnel. Waiting like a coiled cobra, a throwing knife in each hand, he slowed his breathing, and merged with the shadow surrounding him. Right on cue the first patrol appeared from behind one of the large fuel tanks, the three of them chatting in muted tones, relaxed and complacent in their familiarity. The other appeared from the other side of the tower, approaching directly towards Quo’s position. Quo’s red/gold eyes focussed on the patrol of two, narrowing as the hefted the two blades in their direction. Like a pair of guided missiles they buried themselves in the foreheads of the patrol men, they were dead before they hit the ground.
Grounding himself within the Force Quo used the effect of the shock register on the second patrol before he made his way towards second patrol. Shielding himself within the warmth of the Dark Side Quo was all but invisible to them as he approached, steadily and deliberately, his vibroblade in his left hand, his saber in his right. He knew that when he ignited his blade he would become visible to them, so he waited until he could almost feel their breathe next to his face. The patrol men were still standing, looking bemused at the site where their comrades lay dead. The didn’t realise that they themselves were under attack until the red blade of the lightsaber ignited in their midst, cutting down two of them, as the vibroblade in a reverse grip finished the last one. The whole assault had taken less than five seconds.
Quo got to the door of the tower. Closed. A gentle push found that it was not locked, obviously they had confidence in their security. Pushing it fully open Quo stayed back, waiting for a laser bolt to come pinging out of the opening. Silence. With a graceful roll of his wrist, fingers splayed open, the helmet of one of the guards flew across to him, into his waiting hand. Making as much noise as he could he rolled the helmet inside the doorway, a double ‘Fatoom’ as laser blasts impacted the helmet, ricocheting the helmet back out of the door.
Quo replaced the vibroblade in its scabbard, reaching out for one of the eight throwing knives he had left in his belt. The blasts had briefly illuminated the inside of the doorway, giving Quo a general layout of the entranceway to the tower. The stairway curved upwards along the left, winding anticlockwise up the tower. Towards the right hand side was a weapons locker, and a desk. Quo rolled inside heading to the area beneath the desk. The wall and floor around him erupted in a wall of dust, fire, and shrapnel as a rain of fire cascaded down on his position. Quo remained calm, using his connection with the Force to erect a barrier around him, deflecting the blaster shots in a flurry of rebounds that ripped through the fabric of the bottom floor. Through the debris saturating the air of the entrance way Quo had pinpointed the origin of the onslaught.
His left arm whipped the throwing knife upwards with a speed and accuracy that made the Mandalorian retreat behind an electrical supply node, the blade thudding into the wall near the left of its firing position. Ducking back to avoid the projectile gave Quo the chance to move. A single vault took him upwards some twenty feet, just a couple of meters below his assailant.
Being closer, and in a lit environment Quo could finally get a look at his foe. Clad in Mandalorian armour, and carrying an assault rifle. Coloured in black with red highlights this was not a Mandalorian that Quo was familiar with. Quo’s lightsaber ignited with a ‘snap, hiss, whum’, deflecting the new barrage of fire which was zeroing in on his position. Closing the gap to the mercenary with a burst of superhuman speed Quo unleashed a flurry of attacks onto his opponent. Saber and Vibroblade dancing a cyclonic blur towards the Mandalorian, deluging his quarry with a multitude of separate attacks.
An electronic explosion of sparks cascaded from the rifle as Quo’s blade sliced through it, severing the foresight and barrel, sending it tumbling down to the floor below. A burst of flame exhausted behind the mercenary as his booster rocket ignited, propelling the Mandalorian upwards, showering Quo in a bath of smoke and flame. Instinctively he leapt across the stair well chasm, up to the next ledge, apparently pre-empting the blast by a split second. The stair where the mercenary had stood but moments before was now a smouldering, melted mass of metal. Quo looked upwards. His foe was now on the top floor, peering over the edge, left arm extended.. A volley of mini missiles propelled their way down towards his position. A burst of speed took Quo upwards as the missiles struck the stairs and wall of the tower, blowing it outwards, a gaping hole where the Dark Jedi Knight had been standing a heartbeat before.
Quo rounded the final steps in one bound, the balls of his feet gripping the steel through his boots, halting his flight forwards, and pivoting him to the right. Firing from the hip with a blaster, the arc of fire was designed to intercept the young Zabrak’s flight. Too late the Mandalorian realised the error of his though pattern as Quo moved left of his firing position. With a swift and balanced swing of his Lightsaber Quo dissected the mercenary through the lower ribs. Falling in two halves his opponent was slain. Quo reached down and removed the helmet. Female. He didn’t know of any Mandalorian females that were working as mercenaries in this quadrant. He would have to investigate.
Leaping down the centre of the tower he landed on the balls of his feet, the helmet still grasped in his right hand. He made his way out through the door. He attached the helmet to his belt, replacing it with six transponders, three in each hand. Merging again with the Force he reinstated his cloak of invisibility. Dragging the bodies into the tower he closed the door, shorting the locking mechanism with his lightsaber. Who needed locksmiths?
There were still patrols around the site, but once these transponders were in position the site would be incinerated. Making his was around the site like a phantom, eliciting no interest from the patrols he placed all six in the designated positions, double checking each one to ensure the accuracy. With another superhuman leap he forded the wall in a similar manner to his entrance, covering the open ground quickly and quietly, wraith like, returning to his viewing point to watch the display.
“All is in readiness my Master” Quo keyed into the communicator.
“Double checked?” Tasha’Vel’s voice questioned.
“Yes, my Master” Quo replied
From above a plethora of fiery exhausts arrowed down from above, high in the atmosphere. Targeted on to the transponders they descended unerringly, bringing the cleansing fire that would, in the next few seconds, envelope the whole area in dancing heat. The first missile impacted, rupturing a fuel silo, spreading an incendiary flood over the site, beginning it’s own river of combustion as it went. One by one the explosions spread with each missile impact. Quo watched from above, a smile on his lips, his eyes reflecting the flames as he watched.