laneys.info Beware of Yankees, drunks, and loose women.

Standing within the large, oblong shaped waiting room that bordered the long concourse, the young boy leaned against the white post near the perimeter of seats that uniformly lined the western half of the carpeted area. Green eyes watched those checking in to the large vessel that was now refueling outside. He gazed through the large window on the far wall to see the long platform busy with lifter droids carrying cargo and foodstuffs for the poor of Toprawa on their departure for more promising futures elsewhere. Hopefully.

"Hey, you got a cigarra," another younger male voice asked from his left.

"No, sorry."

Nodding, the plainly dressed teenager shoved his hands into his pockets as he looked away for another potential supplier. No one cared about refugees and contract workers but, he was hoping that today wouldn't change the habits of local law enforcement. Two suited men walked into the room crowded with transients and walked up to the desk raising his adrenaline as one reached into a jacket pocket and produced a small datapad, hit a button and turned it to show the attendant something. Once done, all three scanned the crowd as the boy beside him ducked behind a heavyset women and her daughter. Balin decided he didn't want to get caught in a crossfire and calmly walked through several groups and headed to the window as daylight spilled through and warmed his face. Stealing another look, they now walked to the exit as the attendant touched the intercom button.

"Those boarding the 'Sacele' should queue to the door and begin heading to the vessel."

He nervously produced his boarding pass and drifted into the meandering crowd who slowly moved around the line of chairs and showed the two men their passes. Sighing, he calmed himself and waited for his turn. Escape through this crowd would not be that difficult and he kept his eyes open on the entryway into the concourse and noted two more uniformed officers with local patches and shouldering stubbed assault rifles as they waited.

"Your pass and identification," the male voice commanded which prompted Balin to produce his i.d. also and show it to the officer. With a wave, he allowed Balin out into the thick, humid air which he quickly made his way towards the gangway.

"Wait, you! Hold it!" he heard from behind. Spinning, he noted the one that tried to hide earlier break for the ship, sprinting passed other passengers and droids. Stepping up, Balin tripped the boy as both suited officers leveled their pistols at his back, then ran up to the fallen fugitive as he tried to get up and run again. Within two steps, they tackled him to the ground as the other two officers ran through the crowd to join them.

"Thank you," one investigator stated, eyeing Balin as they cuffed their prey who glared at Balin with hatred in his eyes. He also noted the fear that began to take hold also.

'Better you than me, pal,' he thought. He watched them walk him back into the starport and breathed a sigh of relief, then continued into the large, box-like freighter.

* * *

Broc lay on the bed, inset into the grey walls of his room during the trip to Coruscant. His only companion was the long light to his left that dimly illuminated himself and was consumed by the darkened room beyond. Hands clasped behind his head, he wondered if he would remember his daughter or anything that mattered after they were done. Horror stories had come from others who knew someone that had been through the educational brainwashing that lasted three months in some cases. He stared down at his boots and wished that he could take the last couple days back then remembered how sweet Sandra was during their night together and reniged on that thought. Nothing would be changed other than being awake long enough to catch her killer.

A click and the red light that flanked the door to the distant right went green. As the door opened, he recognized his host, Lieutenant Curran as the tall, thinly built officer walked in and knelt beside the bed.

"How you doing, Golvan," he asked politely.

"Peachy. Why? Did you guys decide to turn around?"

He hesitated for a moment, smiling. "Actually, we have a directive from the top. The assassin you were trying to hunt down is on the hit list now. You've been directed to find her and kill her."

Broc sat motionless for a moment. "I'm not a bounty hunter, we arrest our criminals and take them to trial. If you want another assassin, talk to someone else."

"It's either that or you'll be totally loyal to the Emperor and in a crisply ironed grey uniform. Eating in ninety degree angles with your fork, asking permission to go to the bathroom to the tyrannical marine sergeant that's...."

"Alright. I get the point," he sighed. "I'll bring her in. Give me the details on her."

* * *

After being taken back to his ship, Broc preflighted the 'Sinaia', named after his daughter and sat in his captain's seat aboard the RX4 as he perused the assassin's training record. He could not believe his eyes. Espionage, Expert Marksman, Expert at Disguise, Expert Martial Artist, well trained in decryption, forgery, as well as a well rounded knowledge of various types of security systems and bypassing them. His mind was blank as he imagined trying to take her down when all he had was a description that was provided by an advisor to the Emperor himself: brown hair, hazel brown eyes, five foot nine, one hundred and nineteen pounds. She was bought by Advisor Berengarius from slavers as a gift to the Emperor when she was twelve and had been trained to be one of his personal playthings as well as body guard.
Broc's mood softened when he thought of how this young girl would've been torn from her home and taken to someone on a faraway world and given to a politician much older than her. But, he had to do what he had promised - or die trying, which would probably be the more likely scenario. Brown eyes rose from the datapad as he gazed across his control panel into the daylight outside as other vessels at the starport prepped for departure or had just landed. How did he get himself into this mess?