Shades of Grey: Shadow Paths/Prologue

Star Wars: Shadow Paths

Prologue
In the dark before the dawn on the south side of Nal Hutta - when all businesses were closed and respectable people safely locked in their rooms, and even the street gangs had retreated to their haunts - a small wedge-shaped starfighter, striped in chevrons of black and grey, slipped down between the industrial buildings and settled unnoticed at the end of a backwater alley.

The quiet of the night was broken by a muffled huff as the black-striped starfighter's silenced engines cut off and it settled down on its repulsorlifts, then a thump and a soft whoosh of pistons as the cockpit hatch was raised. A dark-cloaked figure stood up and stretched before stepping out of the cockpit and clambering down the starfighter's left-hand wing. Once on the ground, he reached up and tapped the dome of the black-and-yellow astromech that nestled in the wing slot above him. It whistled quietly at his touch, scarred black head twisting to assess the situation in the light of a dim streetlamp.

The pilot stilled it with another tap on the dome, then reached into the starfighter's cockpit and pulled out a folded camouflage net. He closed the hatch and shook out the folds, draping the junk-hued mesh over the spacecraft from nose to tail.

Low-tech, but it works, he thought as he stepped back to glance at the hidden craft from a distance. Looks just like any other heap of junk this sector - as long as you don't get too close.

But then, what - even scavengers - would be out prying at this hour?

The astromech's red optical sensors regarded the musing pilot through gaps in the heavy mesh. He awoke from his reverie, and twitched a fold of material over its head to partially obscure the revealing glow, before moving off cautiously into the waning night.

Infiltrations were Kimo's specialty. Getting in, making his way to the target, and getting out again with a minimum of slip-ups along the way - the skills he'd honed for over three years had never let him down in the past, and he was counting on them now.

Especially now.

Unlike most of his jobs lately, this one wasn't being funded by an outside source - it was personal business that had brought him to Nal Hutta in the dark hours of the morning. Very personal, he thought grimly as he slipped to hug the wall of the nearest building.

Very personal indeed.

Kimo held his wrist chrono to his face and spoke into the hidden comlink that he trusted would keep him connected to the droid back at the ship, even over long distances. 'If you see any movement on the street, alert me,' he muttered. 'And for stars' sake, be quiet. I don't want this ending like it did last time.'

The astromech spouted a caustic series of beeps and boops.

That's Bee,  Kimo thought, wincing. 'You take care of yourself too, little one.'

He ended the transmission before the droid could reply, and pulled his heavy DL-44 blaster from its belt holster, fitting an ascension gun to the muzzle as he walked forwards. There was a small ledge about twenty meters above him - Kimo had spotted it as soon as he left the starfighter. A dilapidated window sat only a few inches above the stone projection, broken shutters swinging wide in a vagrant night breeze. He aimed a little to its left, and fired.

The small grapple flew into the stone ledge with a barely discernible thunk, embedding itself firmly and leaving a thin nysteel line trailing after it. Kimo disconnected the blaster, reached up and tested the line's strength with a tug. Then, satisfied for the moment, he spat on his climbing gauntlets and started up the wall.

In a few moments more he was perched on the ledge and moving cautiously towards the window, the blaster restored to its former state and held ready to fire. He didn't expect to find a guard posted at this hour, but then again, it was always best to be prepared. He scanned the window and the room inside for signs of security systems, then stepped inside and looked around, not really reassured.

''This is the right building, according to the contact. Now to find the right room. . .''

Kimo slipped to the door in the right-hand wall, pushing it open to reveal a dusty passageway. Still wary at the apparent lack of security, he started down it. Then he froze and hugged the wall, as a whir of small motors announced the presence of a tracking camera somewhere nearby. Voices drifted towards his pricked ears - two beings were arguing in guttural tones, their footsteps getting closer by the second. He closed his eyes and turned his face slowly away from the patch of light at the end of the corridor, every nerve on edge, his mind silently willing the beings to continue on their course.

As luck, fate or the Force would have it, the arguers turned straight into the disused hallway. Kimo knew that all pretenses would soon be up. Suddenly lunging out of the shadows, he hurled his blaster where he'd sensed the hidden camera to be, noting with relief a sharp crack as the device was disabled, and recalling the blaster to his right hand at the same time he was drawing his lightsaber with his left.

As a blade of green energy seared through the shadows before them, the beings - a Dresselian and a Trandoshan, both wearing outlandish blue-trimmed uniforms - stumbled back, dazed but already on the alert, hands simultaneously going to their blasters. The green blade darted forwards just as they were drawing, singing the Trandoshan's head-scales warningly as its wielder planted a hefty kick in the Dresselian's abdomen. The cloaked and hooded figure turned as the Trandoshan was falling back and lining up a shot, and the sizzling energy beam came to rest millimeters from the startled reptilian's throat.

The Dresselian's blaster had been knocked out of his hand by the impact, and was resting a good five meters away. He began to sit up, gasping and reaching for his belt comlink, but before he could thumb on the emergency alarm he saw a cold blaster muzzle pointing at his face. He let his hand drop.

'That's better,' said the figure in a low voice. His blaster hand was reaching around to point behind him, the Dresselian saw now, while the other hand still held the lightsaber, its point just under the Trandoshan's chin. 'Don't move or call out, either of you. I've got an itchy trigger finger.'

'And we're supposed to be reporting what's going on up here over comlink in five minutes,' the wrinkle-faced humanoid spat back at him. 'Or the boys downstairs'll be sending a task force up to find out what's going on. Security's pretty tight around here, Jedi.'

'Oh really? I hadn't noticed.' The Jedi Knight - for only one of them would wield a lightsaber, the Dresselian figured - waggled the blaster muzzle pointedly. 'Not that I plan on staying long enough to find out. Now, I'd tell your friend here to drop his blaster, if I were you.'

The Trandoshan didn't wait for a second prodding. He threw the blaster behind him, teeth gritting in a stifled snarl. 'You said there would be nothing going on up here,' he grated accusingly at the Dresselian. 'More fool me, for believing you rather than the perimeter alarm.'

'Actually, I said it was probably a claw-bird that had blundered in through the window and set the alarms off.' The Dresselian glared back at him. 'That would've been dangerous enough. And no, I wasn't expecting a Jedi Knight.'

'I seem to have found myself a couple of dimwitted cowards.' The Jedi adopted a menacing tone. 'Well, you'll do for my purposes.'

The Dresselian gasped in reflexive shock as the Jedi switched his hand position suddenly, shooting the Trandoshan in the face. As the luckless reptilian stumbled backwards, already falling, the only thing that his erstwhile partner could see was a green blade of death that lanced towards him. ..

And stopped a bare centimeter from his quivering throat.

'Tell me where the throne room is,' the Jedi Knight whispered, bending over him. 'Or you die as well.'

The Dresselian was glad, for once, that he had a reputation as a dimwitted coward. His boss's wrath later would be nothing compared with the fear this Jedi wielded now. 'Two flights up,' he whispered. 'Then go in the green door on the right, take the second turn left, and go down the access hatch. You'll end up in the room behind the one where she'll be. Look out for the Gamorreans - they're a nasty bunch.'

'Thank you,' the Jedi said softly, lifting his blade.

The Dresselian began to stand, suddenly light-headed from the strain. 'Can I go now?'

His answer was a sudden pulse of green energy that erupted from the barrel of the Jedi Knight's blaster, enveloping him in darkness punctuated with fast-fading stars. The darkness closed in behind them.

Kimo stepped back and thumbed off his lightsaber, glancing over the scene. The Trandoshan would wake soonest - he only hoped that the stun blast wasn't already wearing off. The Dresselian would take longer, but time was still limited. The darkness would be lifting in less than a standard hour. He glanced at his wrist chrono to check, and wondered if he should call the astromech to prep the starfighter. They might need to make a hasty liftoff.

Somewhere below him, feet started clattering down the building's wide passageways.

Sounds like security's stepping up.

Kimo clipped the lightsaber to his belt and moved for the end of the hall, hurrying now. He wasn't worried about being caught, but he was afraid that his target - the Hutt he'd come to destroy - was already alerted and on the move.

That, he reminded himself sternly, would never do.