To Catch a Killer

[Gorba the Hutt]

Location: Procopia, Tapani Sector

Kasperli awaited the arrival of a mercenary in the antechamber of a conference room on Procopia. There were only two ways in. The front and back entrances. Both of them were guarded. Kasperli had a healthy fear of assassins. He had two of his House Guards present, their expressions stoney and unreadable. Just as Kasperli's own was nigh unreadable. A further two dozen House Guards were stationed outside. The High Lord of Melantha does not meet with petty mercenaries without a suitable protection unit.

The patriarch of the Shorn family ran a tongue over his teeth beneath closed lips. It had been a few hours since he last fed, but a Garhoon is never sated. He could hear the blood pulsing through the veins of his guards. It was enough to drive one mad. But Kasperli had long ago learned how to control his urges. Mostly.

[member="Ferian Adair"] would arrive soon. The Master of Assassins and he had a plan in mind. But it required the help of an experienced mercenary. A very particular mercenary. RC 212

 

[RC 212]

[member="Kasperli Shorn"]

RC strode through the door helmet tucked under his left arm and thumb tucked into his belt. The house guards looked at him sideways but he just grinned, almost as if to egg them on. As he approached the visage of his donor Jango, hardened into a serious look.

RC extended his hand to the employer, and spoke in an even tone.

"RC 212 at your service sir. What can The Mercenaries Guild do for you?"

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Seated in a chair at the head of the conference table, Kasperli gestured calmly at a chair at the other end. The doors behind RC 212 hissed shut. Kasperli's expression was flat, his features stern as granite. Indeed, the man's exterior spoke only a single word: hard. Hard as though he'd once been a statue carved from granite that some malicious god had granted life. Kasperli let out a soft breath through his nose.

"Please, sit, soldier."

Kasperli made another gesture and one of the House Guards stepped forward and set a datapad on the table in front of the mercenary. Shorn's flat, pale stared at the man. They were the eyes of a machine gunner who butchered soldiers in trenches with ease and with apathy. But there was no apathy in Shorn's eyes. Only law. Only order.

"That datapad contains the nature of the mission. We await the arrival of one more." Kasperli's teeth ground slightly. "I hope you left all your weapons at the door, soldier. Our next guest is... sensitive about such things."

RC 212 [member="Ferian Adair"]

 

[Ferian Adair]

"Very... sensitive. Yes."

The voice came, soft and smooth, words that seemed to come from no mouth that moved, from no discernible direction, carrying the vague hint of an accent that was hard to place.The eyes of this one slipped from the High Lord of Melantha (well aware of the irony that his fear of assassins presented, here and now), to the back of the head of this... mercenary; his face - unlike that of [member="Kasperli Shorn"] - gave buried hints of something just barely restrained beneath the civil exterior. Were this mercenary to look behind himself, to the side, and the other, there would be nothing to be seen. This one was adept at evasion, that much was certain. The door, after all, had not opened again to admit anyone else.

"A sensitivity that... I hope, for your sake, you have not inadvertently provoked," the voice said in a sudden whisper, with identical characteristics of the words of a moment before, yet with something almost lusty flavouring their undertones, at the right ear of the mercenary. The air required to speak those words tickled the ear of this man, then left him without notice provided, save for the dagger now at his throat, and the hand crushing around his chin. "As that would be unfortunate..."

His eyes flicked to the Garhoon, then down at nothing in particular as he buried the tip of his nose into the hair of the mercenary, [member="RC 212"], drew in a long, deep breath, and let it out in a slow shudder.

"...would it not?"

 

[RC 212]

[member="Ferian Adair"]

RC laughed as he brought up his right hand. In it a single grenade with the safety pin missing. It was an old style fragmentation grenade, all shrapnel and fire, but not anything much like a thermal det. RC was now very thankful he was wearing his armor, as the only part he need to protect was his head.

"Oh please, do you really want to play this game, or shall we fullfill the contract?"

RC asked matter of factly. His thumb still held down the spoon preventing a massive explosion, but if he was cut, his thumb might slip...

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

The High Lord had not expected Ferian's sudden appearance. That he had not heard or felt the man enter the room was to be expected from one of the Mecrosa Order's finest.

Kasperli continued to stare at RC with a flat gaze that brooked no foolishness. The House Guards leveled their guns at the mercenary. From this distance, they wouldn't miss. Not to mention the knife held to the man's throat by [member="Ferian Adair"]. Kasperli didn't move an inch.

"You threaten a Garhoon of the Sanguine Court and a Master of Assassins with... a grenade?" Kasperli ground his teeth, muscles in his jaw twitching. "Fulfill the contract indeed. Unfortunately, the contract is for you. Dead or alive. It would give me great pleasure to watch my colleague sever your carotid, but I will give you one chance. Put it down and submit to arrest, or you will be executed."

RC 212
[member="Ferian Adair"]

 

[Ferian Adair]

The first thought that flashed through his mind was one of annoyance at the slight inconvenience the detonation of that grenade would have on his life for... perhaps a day or two, at the most. The second was one of disgust that the small, nigh-undetectable device had made it into this room. Whether it was intellectual superiority on his part, or fact, it had become apparent in his mind that at least some percentage of the house guard were feckless half-wits.

A twitch of the mouth, a flaring of the nostrils strolled through his visage at the 'threat' of the device presented by [member="RC 212"]. The blade would have severed his carotid right then and there, if not for the words of [member="Kasperli Shorn"].

"My associate shows you mercy, clone," he said, with a voice that vaguely moaned of boredom, his chin perched atop the head as he pressed the dagger harder into the neck, and considered that perhaps strangulation would have been distinctly more thrilling. From this position, he would not gain much opportunity to see the life snuff out in the eyes of the mercenary. "It is only his words that stay my hand, but the staying power is by no means indefinite. Yours, incidentally, is the only life at all threatened by the device in your grasp. Make your decision before my impatience gets the best of me."

 

[RC 212]

RC looked around at the bunch. A couple guards, a knife to his throat and senseless nobleman. It would be a cinch to take care of the guards and the snotty nobleman. the assassain not so much. RC may have handed some of his weapons off but the clone was no fool. Years of running and gunning had taught him never to let his guard down completely. Hence the holdout blaster stored in the hollow space of his leg plate.

"Alrighty then. so whats this about? Who's trying to collect on an old relic like myself?"

This could only be another mad bounty hunt. What fun.

RC still held the grenade, as an insurance policy. And then his other hand came up with the blaster.

"I really dont want to destroy your lovely decorations. So the knife goes away and I wont."

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Kasperli continued to regard him with that flat stare, then spoke, mouth twisting in an expression of distaste, as if he found the whole situation beneath him. A Garhoon's regenerative powers gave Kasperli a confidence where mortal men would tremble. The threat of a blaster bolt to the chest or a spray of shrapnel was a death sentence to some, and merely a setback to others.

"Very well. Ferian.... kill him."

 

[RC 212]

"Well that was a mistake!"

RC let the spoon fly of the grenade, threw it upwards and dropped down out the chair. One hand aimed the blaster at the guards as his leg kicked the chair backwards into his assassin. Or would be assassin. The grenade exploded in a fiery inferno, launching a sea of white hot metal and smoke across the room. It bloomed like a deadly lotus.

RC scooped his helmet and slammed it on. His finger pumped the trigger of his blaster pistol. Laser bolts streaked in all directions towards each guard as the chaos unfolded.....

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Of course, if the blast radius of a grenade could not consume the man sitting directly beneath it, who had just chucked it in a small, enclosed space, then the likelihood of it causing any damage to those seated at the other end of the table was highly unlikely, to say the least. Shrapnel sprayed and fire blossomed, but as quickly as the roar of the explosion had come, it ended. One guard went down with a blaster bolt to the chest. Kasperli didn't move an inch. He merely glanced at Ferian, then glanced at the door.

Two dozen House Guards who had been waiting outside stormed inside the conference room. They made a ring around the mercenary and leveled their rifles at him, then they all opened fire. Ferian would no doubt be able to take care of himself.

Kasperli waited for the mercenary to accept the inevitable and either die or surrender.

 

[Carden Lorps]

Carden was outside waiting for Rc 212 to finish when he heard a explosion. Carden said through his comm. "Sir everything ok in there do you need help? " Carden was ready to intervene on the matter, only if he needed to.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

A platoon of House Guards tromped toward the conference room. Four of them leveled blasters at [member="Carden Lorps"].

"You're being detained. Don't move."

 

[RC 212]

RC heard the voice of his comrade just as the shooting started. It seemed that the guard were just too quick. The bolts blazed into his armor and red mist filled his visor. A mighty roar erupted as RC went down in a heap and then collapsed upon the floor rolling over. Smoke rose from the holes in his armor and he lay very still.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel now. He could see himself floating upwards.

Well I guess this is it eh old pal?

Yep.

His brothers were waiting at the other end.

 

[Carden Lorps]

"Well ain't that too bad" Carden said while droping his blaster. "Well you should give my CO some medical attention right away he could die right in this fancy room." The nineteen year opd said while taking off his helmet.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

The Garhoon was not exactly satisfied, though it appeared that the mercenary was dying. Placid eyes turned to Adair. "Finish him," he said, dispassionately.

The House Guards detaining [member="Carden Lorps"] remained silent to his comments. Those guards forming the circle around [member="RC 212 "]remained with their blasters raised, ready to mow him down should he so much as twitch.

[member="Ferian Adair"]

 

[Carden Lorps]

"Woah wait wait wait your just going to eliminate him. Why? Don't kill him off." Carden was hoping that the man would listen to the voice of reason. "If you did kill him the rest of our group would be here on your doorstep by tomorrow morning." He said politely "now if I may ask you again please get some medical attention for my Commanding Officer." He said politely

 

[Ferian Adair]

Idiocy. One of the few things that had, on the rare occasion, deprived him of a kill. To further compound it, it was strangely the idiocy of others. Such weaknesses of intellect were largely absent the longer one watched, the older one got, and he had done a great deal of both watching and aging. He watched, pockmarked in places with shrapnel, as the mercenary was gunned down by the same house guards he had felt dissatisfaction with.

They had done their jobs, and still, to be certain... after all, he had seen men get up after being shot full of holes as if it were nothing. No such mistake of thinking he was dead just from that would happen here. The assassin stalked towards the unmoving form of the mercenary, growling at the house guards to get the feck out of his way, ignoring the blather he overheard from what seemed to be a subordinate of this mercenary.

He knelt down. Placing his hands around the helmet, he worked it off of the head, and tossed it aside, then wrenched the head out once again, set the knife against the throat, pressed in, and pulled it neatly across. The blood gave successively smaller spurts, until it slowed to a decreasingly pulsing flow.

"it is done," he said, rising, and looking to Kasperli, while pulling a neatly folded cloth from a rear pocket and shaking it out, proceeding to clean the blade. "I do not think he could fully believe that we are as we are."

Then a very particular look came over his face.

"What about his associate?"

 

[Carden Lorps]

Carden put his hands up "well looks as if im in a bad position here hehe" the nineteen year old said with a hollow laugh

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

The Garhoon waved a hand dismissively at [member="Ferian Adair"], though his nostrils flared wide at the sight of rich, rushing blood gurgling up from the mercenary's slit arteries. "There is also a bounty on any associates of the mercenary. You do as you please with the spare."

Cold eyes regarded the Master of Assassins who was on contract for House Melantha. He would get his cut of the profits. In truth, he would get most of them. Kasperli did not want for money. No, what he sought here was far more valuable. Political capital. He had just eliminated one of the foremost members on the Protectorate's most wanted list. A man who had ended countless lives in a frenzy of genocidal foolishness. Kasperli pressed a comm switch on the conference communicator and made an outgoing call to @HK-36.

"This is the High Lord of House Melantha requesting the Iron Knight's presence on Procopia. The deed is done."