The Day of Reckoning

[Phoenix]

Tal Veren had planned the kill out for several days, watching his target’s routes, checking his own escape routes, and covering his tracks the whole way. No communications to intercept, nothing to indicate him as an enemy, soldier or combatant. Well, at least up until now.

Now, he lay in an apartment, the wind blowing through the open window and rustling papers to his right. He peered through the scope of his sniper rifle, slowly taking in every individual on the platform below.

The apartment owner was ziptied in the closet with a gag in his mouth and a hefty sedative in his system that should keep him out for several more hours, which should be more than enough time to finish his job: Deresh Putrem. The man was a Commander in the Imperial Army and one of the leading officers in the garrison here.

He’d been working as the CO of the local base here on Taris after his previous posting on a backwater world. Now, ordinarily, this wouldn’t have been a big deal, but the man’s outstanding performance as a tactician that had brought his rise through the ranks had the potential to cause problems for the rebellion in the future.

Tal had been watching this guy’s schedule and knew he would – or should - be appearing on the landing platform 400 yards below at any minute. This planet struck him as strange. It still held onto an anti-alien sentiment after years and years. If you weren’t human, you were shunned on the upper levels and usually forced into the “lower city.” As such, 90% of those he saw on and around the landing area were human, with the occasional non-human mixed in.

He swung his rifle slightly to the side and saw the landing craft incoming. If all went according to plan, the Commander should be debarking from that landing craft. A single shot – maybe two – and he’d be out of here and back to the Marauder’s Revenge within 7 minutes according to the walkthrough he had done earlier. Never too careful.

 

[Mitnik]

Standing in front of Charles was a nondescript door, one of the many in this apartment complex. This better be it, he mused to himself, This will be the fifth door I've knocked on. On the ground next to him lay a box, given to him by a Hutt on the DSC Daedalus. I really hate lugging this thing around, speaking to the air around him.

Impatiently, Charles knocked on the door, hoping to finish this job quickly and return to the DSC Daedalus for more work.

 

[Phoenix]

His heart dropped as he heard the tapping-thud on the door. No, this couldn’t be happening! His target was setting down in less than a minute and he needed to make this shot. He couldn’t stop now. He couldn’t open the door, but what if it was an Imperial patrol? Or someone that the apartment owner was expecting? This was the problem with plans: they always seemed to fall apart.

He slid off the table leaving the rifle where it was, hoping he could make it back in time to make the shot still. His left hand fell to his flechette pistol and he withdrew it quickly from its holster. At close range the thing could do a number on someone. He moved quickly and quietly to the door and hit the button that showed him a projection of who was outside the door. The man looked to be carrying some sort of a package. Delivery? They just leave those at the front door, don’t they? Maybe this guy would walk away and leave it outside. Poor dude didn’t have any clue what he’d be walking in on.

Tal continued watching the display, silent and not acknowledging the knock. Hopefully this guy would walk away, but if he didn’t Tal needed to be ready. It was possible he was a cop or - Force forbid – Imperial intelligence. He’d be screwed if that was the case. Or what if this guy wasn’t a deliveryman at all? Now that he looked more closely at his attire, he noticed that he wasn’t really dressed like your standard courier. Friend?

Everything shot through his head in an instant as he watched and waited for the man to make his next move, ever aware of the fact that his target could be landing any moment and escape. Wait and watch that was his play unless the man insisted.

 

[Mitnik]

It shouldn't be taking this long, he thought. There's only another hundred doors to try in this building, he thought to himself. Charles let out an audible sigh, glancing down the hall at the seemingly endless number of doors. "Why did I agree to take on this job, it's been nothing but trouble", whispering to himself. "I should have never agreed to do deliveries for that hutt."

Charles reached out and knocked on the door, shouting "Delivery!". Charles waited, hoping to be rid of this package.

 

[Phoenix]

This guy didn't seem to be going away. He transferred his pistol to his right hand and reached out to the door controls. Checking the projector one more time to make sure there wasn't anyone else in the hallway that would see him, he punched the door controls. As the door slid open, his left hand shot out like a striking serpent - right hand aiming the pistol - and gripped the man by the collar, yanking him inside the room and throwing him to the floor.

Keeping his pistol leveled at the man's head, he punched the door controls again and let them slide closed. This really isn't your lucky day, buddy, he sneered from behind his helmet. But if you do exactly as I say, you'll make it out of here alive. Disobey, and your brains will be on the floor in a heartbeat. Yell, and your brains will be on the floor. Try to escape, and your brains will be on the floor. Do what you're told, and you walk out of here. I don't really care who you are and I have no interest in killing you, but I will. Nod if you understand.

His heart pounded as he hoped his target wouldn't escape. With his left hand he reached for a pair of ties to retrain the man's hands.

 

[Mitnik]

The door in front of Charles slid open, and he felt a glimmer of hope that he would be rid of this package. He bent down to pick the box, yet suddenly found himself being pulled through the door. Any hope Charles had of an easy delivery vanished as he was on the floor with a pistol aimed at his head.

The man with the gun quickly explained what options charles had. It was either obey or die. Charles was not fond of either choices. With a look of annoyance on his face, Charles stood up and dusted himself off.

"I guess it's safe to assume you are not Rory Luitpold. Listen, all I care about is delivering that package outside your door and getting back on my way. As long as this doesn't get weird, I'll do what you ask." Charles reached down and unbuckled the strap holding his vibrosword onto his belt, letting it fall to the ground, and reached out his hands, eyeing the ties the man was pulling out. "Just do me a favor, and make this fast. I have a very impatient boss."