Harry Ozmindius's Story

Kander looked at the Teahouse, surprised that it was as nice as the rumors had made it out to be. The windows gave off flashing lights, implying that there must have been a party of sorts inside. He wasn't particularly fond of parties. There was a small flight of steps leading up to the glass doors of the nice looking building. He climbed them, while keeping an eye on the shady looking figures standing at the entrance, all had rifles in hand. "Welcome to the Teahouse." said a buff man with a deep voice. Kander pondered whether he should answer or not. "Why thank you," Kander finally said, deciding that not answering would make him look more suspicious than he already was. "Any weapons?" Said another, who pointed his rifle at Kander's feet. Kander nodded. "Yes. Where would the discard pile be?" The buff man held out his hands. Kander sighed. He pulled out his pistol, assault rifle, and a pocket knife. The buff man put them in a box and turned to him. "And what would your name be?"
"Kander. Kander Hotigan." The buff man winced at his name, the others stood up and seemed even more defensive than they already were. Kander held his hands up. "Just coming for a little meeting and I will be off this planet." The buff man was apparently the head of this little band, because everyone turned to him and waited for his response. "Fine. But two of my boys will accompany you in, and keep a watchful eye. We have heard the stories." Kander nodded. "My reputation precedes me."
They entered the teahouse. It was beautiful. It had nice lighting on this floor, with bamboo shoots next to the nice little mats that people were sitting on. In the middle of the room was the bar, which broke the Japanese theme. It looked more modern. It had nice white wood pillars, and a nice marble table, with a bartender who met everyone with an equally nice smile. "Nice place." Kander said quietly. What was a little odd to Kander was that the men were leading him around, not the other way around. The damned hacker must have some influence on these goons. They circled around the bar, and right behind it was a nice little mat like the others, but this one was glowing green, due to a little candle flickering on it. Behind the candle was a figure in a black hood. That was him. The annoying hacker that is making the empty threats.
Kander walked over and sat down in front of the candle and the hooded figure. "I'm here." "Oh, the great Kander has heeded the calls of a weak hacker. Funny isn't it?" Kander shrugged. "Weak? Clearly not, seeing as you practically run this place." "Oh, no. I don't run this place. No, no, no. That isn't the case here." Kander sighed, making a weird metallic groan. "Stop playing these games. What do you want with me?" "I don't want anything to do with you. But Gundo does." A green dot appeared on Kander's chest. "I can't say I didn't see that coming. Cause I did." The hooded figure didn't move. "Of course."

"Gundo has eyes everywhere. I suggest you heed my words." Kander laughed. "What makes you think I would listen to a coward who won't even show his face?" The hooded figure pulled back his hood to reveal a young man with green hair, peculiar looking glasses, and a grim facial expression. "Still a coward?" "Yes. Because you are pointing a gun at an unarmed man." "You are never unarmed." Kander had to give him that. He wasn't ever truly without a weapon. "True, true..." Kander looked around for anything he could use to kill the man before him. "I made sure that you have nothing to hold against me." The man said. Kander nodded. "I can see that. Not even a particle of dust on the ground." The green haired man narrowed his eyes. "Can never tell with you." He jabbed the gun forward a bit, then pulled it back. Kander was a bit disappointed. If the gun was extended just a bit farther, he could have taken it and shot the man. Then gone back to Hotigan Enterprises easy. "So, I hear you caused a scare." "What I do best." "I'm aware of that." "What is this Gundo you speak of?" "Top secret agency. Keeps the peace around these parts without anyone really realizing it. That part is thanks to me. I cover our tracks. Makes us undetectable." Kander shook his head. "Not completely. I was able to save that last message you encrypted into my data records. I can now trace it back." This was all a lie, but the man with the green hair seemed to temporarily believe it. His neck became tense- then relaxed. "Impossible. My encryption doesn't work like that." Kander sighed again. It was worth the try. "And what are you going to do with me?"

The man with the green hair smiled. "I have sent out a distress beacon to the local authorities. They will be here in a couple minutes... Lockjaw is no more. You can never hurt anyone ever again." Kander laughed. "Hold on..." The green haired man cocked his head, wondering what Kander could be talking about. "You... I... Oh, I killed your father. That's right!" Kander snapped his fingers, making the man in green flinch. "He had green hair just like you. And those same annoying eyes. Oh, I wish I could have been there for a more... personal... execution." The man's jaw clenched hard, his neck became tense again. Kander could hear his teeth grinding, could hear his finger rub against the trigger of his pulsar gun. "Do it. One shot can end me and my enterprise... One... SHOT."

Not only was the green haired man not joking, but he was also serious to. He had shot Kander in the shoulder, taking a large chunk of it, and throwing it on the ground. The whole teahouse went quiet. Kander smiled, putting a hand on his blown shoulder. "I applaud you for being gutsy enough to do that... I really do..." Kander stood up, knowing that the man wouldn't kill him. He pulled out a pocket watch. He glanced at it, and was thankful that the idiots guarding the entrance didn't detect it, because this was the only toy he had on him. He took it and turned around, faster than the average male, and blasted backwards, diving behind some bamboo shoots before the green haired man opened fire on them. Kander pressed the second button, and his Rocket launcher began to unfold in his hand. He took it and pointed it at the wall closest to him and blasted it to bits with one of his only rockets. It exploded, exposing the outside. It was dark out now, night time. It would be easy to escape into the night. He hopped out of the teahouse after receiving yet another blast to the back, making him cough up blood, which just got stuck in his jaw. He pressed the first button on his rocket launcher, turning it back into a pocket watch, before running off towards the business district or at least what he thought was the business district. He couldn't really tell, his vision was blurred from the pulsar wounds. He had no doubts in his mind that the security in the business district upped its level tenfold. He had no idea.

Harry cursed to himself, over and over. He had his father's killer right there, three feet in front of him. He had every chance to kill him. The shot he made should have hit his head, not his shoulder. And now he is gone. Slipped out of his grasp. Harry returned his hood to his head, covering his face, shielding his identity. He quickly propped his laptop open at an empty table in the Teahouse, and opened up the security feed in the OmniCorp building. "Holy... shit." Was all Harry could possibly say as he watched the Imperial soldiers storm the building. So many of them. Harry could only hope that they will find Kander and give him hell. That is all he ever wanted... was to see Kander dead. See his dark Enterprise fall. Maybe that can happen now... Maybe. He closed the security feed and opened up another window. A secret communication link on his laptop that allowed him to communicate with Gundo operatives. He needed to speak with someone that could ensure that Kander will be dead by tomorrow morning if all else fails.

He didn't get an instant reply from his computer, which was slightly disappointing. Maybe the man was busy. He started to shut down the laptop when another message from the GUNDO window came up. Next to the name Artis it read "Give me and my team exactly 5.2 hours to get situated, and your target will be dead." Harry had never actually met the man named Artis, but he was apparently one of the greatest Bounty Hunters in the galaxy. Of course, Harry didn't believe everything he heard, like the fact that the guy could snipe a man ten miles away with a pistol. That is impossible. Not even a man training for something like that could actually do it. He typed in a response. "I will be keeping an eye out for your team's arrival." Harry then closed his laptop and exited the main entrance of the Teahouse. He noticed some dark red rifles and pistols. That must be Hotigan's load-out. He kept walking. He had to reach the spaceport and inform Artis of what he was up against. A vile criminal who kills unarmed civilians with explosives.

Harry just reached the Spaceport when security began to crack down on the people trying to enter, or leave the city. Some security were taking down panicked civilians by force, while others were shoved to the side. Harry had no problem weaving through the chaos. Until he received a hard metal pole like object into the midsection of his back, throwing him to the ground. He coughed up some blood before standing up to face his attacker. A masked figure, with the intent to kill him as he took another swing. Harry was somewhat ready for this, as he threw himself backwards. He quickly pulled out his pulsar gun and shot the masked man's shoulder, making him drop his pole. Harry began to call out, "SECURITY!" But he couldn't be heard over all the ruckus. The masked man disappeared into the panicked groups of people.

Harry ran to a check-in area, where the inhabitants there were slightly less violent. The reception desk was cracked and smashed, and the person behind the desk looked like he had dealt with some pretty violent guys. He had a bloody gash in his forehead and a ragged spaceport uniform on. He smiled weakly as Harry entered. Harry instantly knew this guy was a GUNDO agent. He quickly put his two index fingers together, and then tapped his right shoulder. The man behind the desk did the same, but with his left. They nodded. Harry kept walking past the reception desk, the GUNDO agent in tow. "I heard about Artis. Are you sure a man like Hotigan is worth the overkill or-!" "Yes." Harry said coldly, turning around to stare at the Private. "I witnessed first hand, the destructive intent of Mr. Hotigan, and I intend to kill him. Resources tell me that he was captured by some biker, most likely a part of one of the local bike gangs..." The private looked impressed with Harry's analysis of the situation. They reached the docking bay. He noticed a smaller ship, that looked old, rusty, and barely able to fly as it shuddered to a stop in front of the traffic controllers with their flashing beams. A tall, dark figure walked out of the ship, flanked by four other men with fully automatic weapons, under the guise of some sort of Terran uniform. Harry and the Private met the dark figures just behind a pillar, out of sight. The tall man who lead the group propped his hat high enough so Harry could get a clear view of his face. His eyes glowed red, and his expression was... well, there wasn't one. He had a completely expressionless face as he gazed at Harry. He didn't blink either. That was slightly unnerving. "Agent." Harry replied stiffly. A monotone voice replied, "Agent Hathom. Pleased to be in your acquaintance..." One of his glowing eyes turned to locate the private, who was sweating profusely, and began to dab at his forehead with his sleeve. "Now, we must talk of the target." Harry said, pulling out his computer. The man put a heavy hand on the computer. "There will be no need for that Agent. I have all the information I need... except..." He flashed a murderous eye, "Dead... or Alive?" Harry was taken aback by the sudden change in voice. "Uh- oh..." He gave a glance to the private, then realized he was the highest ranking agent in the room. "If he can be kept alive, then by all means... do so..." Artis's eyes gave a look of disappointment. He clearly wanted to kill something. "But if you cannot bring him in... then you may kill." Artis bowed, his black coat waving. "Of course. I will be leaving these gentlemen with you while I locate Mr. Hotigan."

Harry was, again, surprised. "Oh, uh, yeah... okay-!" "You are not very confident when in command. I will take note of that." Artis said in his trademark monotone. Harry had enough of the man, his jaw now clenched in anger. "Find Mr. Hotigan within twelve hours or-!" Artis waved his hand. "Yes. Yes. I am aware." He swept passed Harry, who stood there, stiff. The Private frowned. "He was... intimidating." Harry clenched his fist. "Back to your post private." The private gave the GUNDO signal, and the four men that Artis brought with him flanked the private back into the waiting room. Harry decided to hit his apartment and get some rest. He was a little worried that Hotigan was alive, and saw his face, but Harry knew that Artis would get the job done. Artis was known for never letting a target live. Ever. Especially not in the name of GUNDO. Harry decided to take the back exit, which had tamer security, and he left the Spaceport without a problem.

Darth Xalgan waited in the spaceport. He paced across the hangar like a prowling tiger, steel boots clanging menacingly on the metal grates. A dark cape flowed behind him and flourished as he turned directions.

“Incompetent Terrans…” the Sith hissed through his respirator.

“Cheer up, my lord.” Xalgan’s twi’lek companion replied. “I’m sure the ship will be all fixed up before too long.”

Vette watched Xalgan stew in his irritation. She placed her hands on her hips, fingers drumming on the hilts of her blasters, and kept an eye on the hangar door. Though she trusted his instincts, it wouldn’t do for a threat to sneak up on them while he was distracted.

“We can hardly spare more time here than we already have, Vette.” Xalgan growled, dark side energy churning around him. “We must return to Imperial space with all speed. I have been gone from my station for far too long.”

Admiral Steele was making his way through the spaceport, a very stern look about on his face, as he was flanked on either side by Aschen marines, each wearing their signature black BDU uniforms, with armored gear worn over them.

"Sir, your Condor will be arriving, shortly to take you back to your ship." The Marine sergeant reported. "Command has stared that it is of utmost importance that you return to Imperial space with all due haste." The Sergeant added, as the group rounded a corner.

Rythmic footfalls filled the hangar that Darth Xalgan was pacing about in. The doors opened up in the opposite side of the large bay, and a formation of six soldiers, in clearly identifiable Aschen uniforms could be seen. They clasped their disruptor rifles tightly, as they maintained their formation around a stern looking man, in a dark grey, and blue uniform.

They stopped about a hundred feet away, near an empty landing pad. Each Marine took in the sights all around them, and they fanned out around various crates, and equipment to take defensible positions in the event of a fight. Each soldier moved with the discipline that betrayed years of training, while the older man stared out the hangar into the skyline before him, then he checked his watch.

Shrknar glanced over his shoulder at the self-important Admiral Steele, who was just across the promenade. His nostril slits flared open, accompanied by a hissing exhalation of machine-assisted breath. The denizens of this world were... strange.

He had other things to attend to, however. Not to be dissuaded from his mission, he set out for Gambit's Bar to meet with his Terran contact.

"We've got company, my lord." Vette said, hand resting on her blaster and eyes trained on the soldiers.

"Calm yourself, Vette." Xalgan hissed, respirator sighing. "They're only Aschen, and if they were looking for a fight... they would have brought more men."

The twi'lek nodded, but she remained vigilant. Xalgan likewise ceased his mad pacing, straightened his back, and calmed his breath. Control. He thought. I am a Sith, not a wild animal. Strength, yet peace. Power, yet wisdom.

Xalgan watched the aschen soldiers through the dark lenses of his helmet. Though he doubted any malice on their part, he had heard the rumors, and so he opened himself to the ebb and flow in the Force to read their intentions. He was confident he could wipe out the entire unit in the space of six seconds if he needed to, but he would not be caught unawares.

Senseless violence was also unbecoming of a Darth.

The Admiral kept his eyes on his surroundings, and his Marines followed suit. Several eyes were on the Twi’ilek, and several shrill whines emanated from the Aschen group, as thumbs flicked across power switches, and several holographic sights, that weren’t there previously had flickered to life. Several Aschen soldiers powered their disruptor rifles, and Admiral Steele quickly took notice.

“Sergeant.” Steele said calmly. “We’re not here for a firefight.”

The Marine sergeant nodded, but cast his second nod in the direction of the Darth and his accomplice.

“They’re watching us, the Xeno has her hand on her weapon.” The Marine whispered.

Their intent was clouded by their hatred of this place, their Xenophobia, but nothing malevolent surfaced, the Admiral kept his own thoughts closely guarded, but he seemed to be waiting for something.

Darth Xalgan sneered beneath his helmet.

"Vette..." He said, loud enough for the marines to hear him. "I do believe that these aschen are afraid of you. How quaint. I can feel their hate... their disdain. They would be wise to keep their guards up. Few have seen a Darth firsthand and lived to tell the tale. I am not without mercy, however, and I find the wasted lives of perfectly good soldiers to be distasteful."

"Gee..." Vette rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "How kind of you. You are, by far, the nicest evil guy I know."

The gathered Aschen soldiers watched Darth Xalgan closely, his words did not fall on deaf ears, though, and more than one Marine had their eyes affixed to him.

The Marine sergeant closest to Steele slowly leaned over, and began to whisper.

"Et Xeno contumeliam nobis."

"Ego animadvertit" Steele replied.

He looked back out to the landing pad, as the shrill whine of an Aschen Empire Condor VTOL troop transport began to fill the inside, a moment later, the angular, imposing form of the Aschen transport craft could be seen as it carefully maneuvered into the hangar bay, touching down delicately on the landing pad.

Steam hissed from release vents near the landing gear, and the rear deployment ramp opened as the engines began to die down.

Two Adepts of war emerged, clad in a deep black armor, towering at nearly ten feet in height. Their boots made a dull thuink against the metal plates of the landing pad, and they cradled their weapons, twenty-two millimeter heavy magnetron rifles, an Aschen designed coilgun designed to accelerate a hyper-dense projectile at high velocities.

Steele simply cast a sidelong glance at Xalgan, and spoke to his sergeant loud enough to hear.

"We have nothing to fear, Sergeant, these... Sith would be foolish to challenge us." Steele said, huffing. "Afterall, the last Sith lord to challenge the might of the Aschen Empire paid for it dearly, as we massacred her armies, and set fire to her planets."

"Ad Victoriam." The Adept of war called out, saluting Steele briskly.

"Afterall, our military might is without equal. Have you seen a Star Destroyer go up against a Reverence, Sergeant? It was a... short battle." Steele added, starting towards the ramp.

In a fitting moment of dramatic irony, another ship pulled into the hangar and touched down several meters from Darth Xalgan. A Fury-class Interceptor lowered its ramp, and a dark-clad robed figure stepped out onto the hangar. A fully enclosed helmet, much like a fencing mask, and a crimson hood shrouded their face.

"It is natural for the predator to quell the weakest of the flock." Xalgan replied as the figure approached him. "And so the herd is made stronger for it. The wolves should be wary, however, of challenging the alpha. They have ascended to their station for a reason, whether through guile or strength, and so would be a more... fitting adversary."

"Master," the figure knelt - a woman by her voice. "Your ship has been repaired and refueled. Are these people troubling you? Do you require me to dispose of them?"

"No, Lady Wilsaam." Xalgan placed a hand on her shoulder. "That will not be necessary. Come, let us return to the Gravestone. I am sure the rest of the Alliance must be fraught with worry over my absence."

Chondra Balencio had enough of this planet, and longed for the quiet solace of home. Now to begin the journey back. The hem of her white robes brushed the ground as she maneuvered through security and towards the terminal where the shuttle waited. Anyone short enough would notice her feet didn't touch the ground, but it wasn't enough to draw an unusual amount of attention to her. If there was one thing she learned here, it was to expect the unexpected. Always.

The wasn't going far, but it was the fastest and safest way to start going home. What was it called again? She stopped in front of a display and read down the lines. Ah, yes, there it is:

The Pharos - 30 MINUTES TO DEPARTURE

THE PHAROS - 20 MINUTES TO DEPARTURE - DESTINATION: BLUE HEAVEN

A voice sounded throughout Wing City Spaceport, "THE PHAROS - 10 MINUTES TO DEPARTURE - FINAL NOTICE TO BOARD"

Irahel arrived from a small flash of light near the terminal for The Pharos. It took her a moment to get her bearings right, but sure enough she knew where she was. Irahel swore under her breath for a solid minute before marching down the terminal towards The Pharos.

After all she had done to get away from this planet, away from her old Master, only to wind up right back here?
No. Nope. Nah. Time to leave.