Chapter 1

Just three feet to the left. Just three small feet to the left and I had him. The blaster rifle against my chest shook gently with the shaking of my hands as I peered through my sniper scope. I hated killing people, especially in such an unfair way as with a rifle from 1000 meters, and it wreaked havoc on my nerves and made my hands shake. I never let it effect my aim though and as my unknowing target stepped to his left I proved just that. The 3 short laser blasts fired in rapid succession and tore though muscle and jaw bone and eventually into the brain of General Armin Muskar. A brilliant military mind to be sure, but on the wrong side and now dead.

I quickly disassembled my weapon as the other citizens on the Dineran Street corner and the General's two personal guards noticed Muskar's new state and began searching the windows and buildings around the street. Down the stairs and out the rear door was I when they rushed across the street and towards the 1200 ft. tall building I had fired from. My speeder bike awaited me behind the buildings waste compactor and just as the General's guard would be blowing open the door to the room I had just fled, I would be halfway to the spaceport.

I Swerved through the light morning traffic, my trenchcoat flapping in the breeze behind me, and brought the comm link on my speeder online. I punched up the code for the GRENDAL cargo freighter and the screened buzzed to life with a most unattractive vision.

"THIS IS THE GRENDAL, WHAT DO YOU WANT???" spat the immensely rotund comm officer.

"Tell Jarok I will be a little late and to hold the ship for me!" I shouted over the wind.

"Ah, Malik it is you. CAPTAIN Jarok will not be pleased. How should I be expected to persuade him to put his schedule on hold for the likes of you?" slithered the officer.

"200 credits in your account says that he will be more than sympathetic to my situation," I said with my most convincing smile. Everybody is a merchant these days I thought.

"I see that your circumstances are quite beyond your own control and that my intervention on your behalf is warranted." a smile split the fat mans face, multiplying the number of chins that hung from his bulbous head.

"I'm glad you see it my way", I replied switching off the comm unit. Now all I had to do was get there. I pushed my speeder faster, risking drawing attention to myself and sped towards the spaceport. Upon seeing its unmistakable dome shape rising up on the horizon, my anxiety slowly melted away. I flew past two Imperial Stormtroopers, who apparently had other matters on their minds besides actually checking the people at the spaceport's gate like they were supposed to, and down the long pathway that ran alongside the domed spaceport. Along the pathway were countless stairways and platforms at which smaller ships docked. I wanted 223. I sped past pedestrians and flung my speeder into a wild turn and shot it past the stairway of my designated platform. I ran alongside the GRENDEL, a dirty looking rust bucket of a cargo ship about 80 meters in length and half that in width, and swung my speeder up the ships cargo ramp and into its hold. The ramp raised and the bay doors shut as soon as I entered and I felt the ship shutter as its retros kicked in.

The ship struggled off the landing tarmac and its heavy Ion engines, positioned along each side, shot the ship towards the clouds and beyond.

"Ah, Mr. Duncan Malik, my dear assassin I'm so glad that you could make it," Buzzed Captain Jarok as I met him at the cargo hold's main door. The voice was not his own, but the voice given to him by the small device he wore around his neck. His throat had been slashed by a stormtrooper on ryloth as a child, which was the only reason he was helping me at all, and he'd been mute half of his life. His sharp Twi'lek teeth were brown and dirty as he smiled sarcastically. " I would have left without you."

"Yes Jarok, I know."

"Yes and do not forget it. Next time I will not be so generous."

"You call me paying you 8,000 credits to transport me and my speeder to Krecktin generous?" I retorted. While I didn't mind paying the 8,000 credits because it wasn't mine but the Alliance's, I knew Jarok's reputation for making side trips without his passenger's consent. If only I could keep my fighter out of the repair bay for more than a month at a time.

"You cannot find many Captain's who will fly the Krecktin asteroid belt for so little." He was right but I loved to argue with the weasel of a sullustan.

"And every time you almost get us killed."

"Almost is the key word my friend. I have never been known to get anyone killed, especially if I am on the same ship as them." He had a point.

"I guess I will just have to trust you Jarok, so where am I sleeping?"

"Ah, you will be sleeping in the luxurious cargo hold, for all of the crew cabins are filled." His voice device buzzed. Although not known for portraying emotion well, Jarok's device seemed to emit his obvious pleasure with letting me know the sleeping arrangements. That and his sharp-toothed smile. Before I could protest though he spun about on one foot and sauntered off, his tattered cloak and twin blue tentacles swaying behind.

I sighed as the cargo door shut and began unpacking my gear from my back pack. I set up my fold out computer terminal and comm unit, and patched it into that of the GRENDLE. I felt the ship shutter as it entered hyperspace. Probably not a moment too soon for Imperial security would no doubt be halting all traffic as soon as information about the General's death got out.

I brought up my account information on my comp. terminal and was pleased to see that the alliance had deposited the full 60,000 credits in my account. This was the third Imperial General and the sixth Imperial officer I had smoked in the last four months and now I was on my way back to the hidden Alliance base on Krecktin III. I would have to lay low for a while that was for sure but I could think of many places other than Krecktin I would like to lay low on. Surrounded by a dense Asteroid field and nothing more than a great rock in space, Krecktin III had little to be desired, but had the one thing I did desire. D'lek.

I brought up my file on General Armin Muskar. His Pompous fat face filled the right corner of the screen, his nose upturned even in the photo. Must have been why my shots passed through his jaw I mused. I scrolled down to the recent known operations menu and scanned through it. I was relieved to see that he was about as evil as they came. Part of the massacre on Ulwan IV, the raid on the rebel base on Hoth, and many system pacification's just like his recent venture on Dinera II. Up until I arrived he was completing pacification and had little but riots and small bands of rebels to worry about. That must have been why he had let his security become lax, and give me the opportunity that I had to ruin his fine career. I always made it my strict policy to read the files on my targets after the assassination had taken place, being unsure of oneself and the immediate guilt that one might feel can seriously ruin a good shot. Up until now though I had never been disappointed by any of the records I had read. From marauding pirates, to top of the line Imperial Generals. Never had I found a reason to feel any deep remorse.

I felt my eyelids become quite heavy as I scrolled through the General's file and eventually deleting it once I was done. The 3 nights that I spent up in that window monitoring the general were finally taking their toll and after writing up a message to my accountant Gheridali on Coruscant and prepared it for sending when the GRENDAL dropped out of hyperspace, I folded my comp terminal up and put it aside. I unfolded my bedroll and collapsed. Nothing was going to stop my descent.

"RED ALERT RED ALERT! All gunners to their posts!"

I was not a morning person. I was especially not one to be startled awake, something a nervous person like myself dreads. I shot up out of bed anyway and slapped the door control, passing though into the passageway moments later. I ran down the hallway and was glad, for once, that I had slept in my clothes. My coat trailed behind me as I climbed up a ladder to the bridge. A small cube shaped room served as the bridge. The pilot at the front, the navigator beside him, the comm officer off to the left and tactical officer to the right. I grabbed the door frame as the ship shuddered under laser fire. "What's going on?!" I yelled to Jarok, who sat in the pilots chair.

"It appears to be pirates," buzzed the blue-skinned Twi'lek just as I saw the unmistakable form of a Z-95 headhunter stream across the forward window.

"I see, need any help," I offered.

"Always, we seem to be short on crew members at the present time."

"I thought you said you were full," I said turning for the door.

"We are my friend, we are." I could almost hear the smile in his voice as I thought about what he could be carrying in those crew compartments. I knew them to be specially armored to resist scans by customs ships, and Jarok's reputation for smuggling was well known in certain sectors.

I pushed those thoughts aside as I slid back down the ladder and shot back down the hallway and then to the left. Just over the engines, the cargo ship had dual laser turrets on each side. I climbed up the ladder at the end of the hallway and plopped down into the gunners seat. No sooner had I strapped in then a Z-95 cam soaring into view. I took a couple of potshots at the fighter to let the pilot know I was there. Maybe I could scare him off, but I doubted it. It was worth a try.

The Z-95, while not a top of the line fighter, could still offer up a stiff resistance. Unlike the TIE the Z-95 had shields, but they were quite inferior to those of an X-wing or a Y-wing. The major flaw with the Z-95, in my opinion, was its terrible maneuvering abilities and inferior speed to most new designs. Once a proud ship, and the main bulk of the OLD republic's fleet, the Z-95 Headhunter was now resigned to being used by pirates and anyone who couldn't afford anything more up-to-date.

Finally! I thought as the Z-95 came back around for another pass. I felt the ship tremble beneath its laser barrage but before the pilot could peel off I dropped my cross hairs over him and tore down the fighter's shields and ripped into the Ion engine. The ship spun and then exploded only meters away from my viewport. I shielded my eyes and then began searching for another target. I felt the ship shudder heavily and the metal whine in protest as Jarok spun the ship around in an attempt to even up the damage to his ship. I desperately searched for a target and as the GRENDLE came about I found one. I wasted no time, as soon as I got a lock I poured my rapid-fire lasers into the aging ship. I held the trigger as the lasers tore into the shields and blew apart the cockpit. I felt a momentary pang of sorrow for the pilot, but that quickly abated as the GRENDLE again shuddered under laser fire. How many of these bastards are there? I thought. And what does Jarok have hidden in those crew compartments?

I pushed these thoughts away again as a pirate sped into view. I didn't wait for a lock but pressed hard on the triggers, pouring laser fire into the Z-95. I followed it down, as it completed its crescent-shaped flight path, but lost it as it turned sharply and out of my view. I had torn into some armor, but obviously not enough to do much. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the sleek and beautiful shape of an X-wing fighter. Lasers flew out of it's four wing mounts and into my previous target, finishing it off with little effort. The pilot then wrenched the fighter to its left and shot off again before passing out of my view. The GRENDLE shook, denoting the destruction of another Z-95.