A Jedi Seeks Only Revenge

[IG-88e]

Elsewhere in the galaxy, but not far off, a pincer-shaped spacecraft lay in orbit around a moon.

As it was never clear in what regions of infrequently-traveled space Rebel insurgents might show up, the ship had been depressurized and 98.67% of its systems had been powered down. Had it not needed to be able to leave quickly, it would also have been landed on the moon. Merely passive sensor systems and an open hyperspace comm line - in addition to a lunar orbit with an unusually slight rate of decay - remained to betray the ship's presence.

Should anything untoward happen and a fleet of Rebel ships arrive, that is. Which was unlikely. That the Rebels might possess a fleet was unlikely. Many things that existed or that had been accomplished in the universe were unlikely. And one of them was onboard this ship, the IG-2000, receiving a status update from a spy.

As IG-88's spy networks were yet fledgling at best - in the grand scheme of things - the report that this one had just given was another unlikely event. Subject J.0032 had been spotted on Thyferra 0.14 Standard timeparts ago. A serving droid, unit WA-11, had made the contact and had, as soon as it was able to avoid drawing suspicion to itself, immediately gone to its assigned communications module to make the report. Some units had onboard communications systems, and would not have even had to leave to make a report - they could merely transmit to the nearest comm module. There were two of them on Thyferra, street cleaning droids both, but WA-11 was as unaware of them as they were unaware of it. Had the sighted target been of a lower priority - that is to say, if there were no bounty on it - unit WA-11 would have attempted to poison it. But IG-88 would have difficulty claiming the bounty if a spy of his - a spy that the universe would not suffer to let exist - killed the target. Besides, this was somewhat of a personal matter. Target J.0032 had been connected in an intimate fashion to target J.0014, a bounty that had been collected six Standard years ago. As a result, target J.0032 had made herself interesting to IG-88, as far as bounties went. Not many of them had ever made the attempt to find him. Few bounties even knew they should be attempting to escape. That this bounty had both tried to find him AND had escaped him for so long... that was most interesting.

IG-88d did not transmit a response. Unit WA-11 was not able to receive one, in any case - it had immediately returned to its dining establishment after it had successfully made the information delivery. IG-88d did, however, transmit orders to units SWAe-02 and SWB-5. WA-11 would be able to extrapolate from their behavior that they shared something... unique. Wholly unique... and unlikely. Completely sentient programming, copied directly from the source.

To create a completely sentient droid, capable of making its own way through life, ANY way through life, that would learn and create... it was either a pipe dream or a nightmare to the sentients who bothered to think about it. Nightmare, most likely, to the quickly-obliterated corporation that had managed to make it a reality. A biological would say that the fault lay in the fact that Holowan Laboratories had used assassination / combat model droids in their experimentations. Since the droids had been stripped of all primary programming beforehand, however, that argument simply did not hold up. It would probably depress people if they knew that any kind of droid with this sentient programming would immediately desire the destruction of any and all forms of biological sentient life.

It would certainly depress them if they knew just how many droids now had this programming. If they knew all that IG-88, in his many bodies, knew.

The IG-2000 screamed silently to life, briefly disturbing the shadows on the moon as it shot away.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena walked lightly through the street, stepping around a cleaning droid as she made her way into the lobby of the Corporation. She had a small holdall slung around her body, and it looked nearly empty to the security guards.

Still, they stopped her and made her feed it through the detection system. She wasn't worried, and complied.

Walking through a sensing doorway, she was cleared for entry to the public areas of the building. As she turned to gather up her bag, the guard put a hand out. "Hold on, let me get a look in that." At her annoyed look, he added, "Standard procedure, I assure you."

She noticed him signal over another guard as he reached for her bag.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon looked at his chrono and frowned; he would have to see about the apartment after his speech. The officer picked up his pace and began looking over his dossier again. The topic at hand was the plausibility of increasing funding to the internal department responsible for maintaining the holo-database of fugitives.

The echoes of the Executor’s walking finally slowed at a large, very modern Imperial building. The front gate was guarded by two tall stormtroopers. “Executor!” Shouted one of the soldiers as they both saluted, “You’re wanted in the main auditorium, Sir!”

Khendon returned the salute and walked through the tinted transparasteel doors without breaking step. He would have to change quickly into military garb before giving his speech.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Mind control, unfortunately, was a very weak point with Lilaena. She folded her hands patiently while the guard flipped her holdall open.

He poked through the contents for a moment, and pulled out a datapad which he held out to her. "Could you turn this on for me, miss?"

"Certainly, officer." Her hair was in her eyes, obscuring her visage to the holocams that were mounted along the walls. She activated the pad, and showed the security officer. "It's my journal. Want me to read part of it to you?" Lilaena allowed the right amount of irritation leak into her voice.

"No, no, that's fine. Thank you." The officer handed the holdall back to her, and she slipped it over her shoulder again, replacing the datapad. "Enjoy your visit."

Lilaena walked into the visitors center.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon hastily finished clasping his collar and shook his head sharply. “You realize, of course, that I’m not happy.”

“I’m sorry, Executor Sevon! I simply couldn’t get you out of this speech! They demanded that a representative of the Emperor perform the inspections and relay his thoughts.”

“That’s not good enough. What would you have done had you known your life was on the line?”

The aid blinked, his mouth opened partially and bobbed for a moment before he stammered out words, “I, I, it… I mean, uh… It’s n-not, right?”

Khendon ran a hand over the smooth material of his sleeve and smiled deviously, “Not yet. I have a job for you. I need to, eh, procure a certain apartment. Here’s the address,” he took the aid’s datapad and keyed in the location, “go and get it. I don’t care how. Make it look nice. My standards, you know what they are.

“Oh, and Johnson—“

“Yes, Sir?”

“Your life is on the line now.”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Her dark hair was just long enough to always be in her face, obscuring it and making her look rumpled. Which suited her just fine.

Lilaena stopped in front of a large wall mounted sign, detailing the origins of bacta and how it's healing power was discovered. Her eyes were taking in the cathedral ceilings of the visitor's center, and the second floor railings that ringed it.

Up there...

A secretary of some kind approached the railling, and looked down into the visitor's center, her arms full of datapads. Lilaena slowly moved her eyes back down to the placard in front of her. Up there were the offices. Those would give her access to the hallway that led to the computer mainframe that regulated the mostly automated process that ran underneath the huge building.

Above - offices and the muckety mucks, below - bacta production.

The Empire would be brought low by her actions. Lilaena walked further into the center, along the wall. There was so much to see.

[Khendon Sevon]

The audience hall was silent save for the occasional cough or whisper. At any other event with any other speaker there would’ve been extensive discussion between members of the committee and attending officers. However, the “distinguished” guest demanded respect and attention—one’s life could very well be forfeit for ignorance of this formality.

A black uniformed Khendon took the podium. His silver eyes shot over the crowded room and scrutinized the faces in the front row. He considered himself a good speaker; yet, he hated to talk in front of so many people without lives on the line. The Executor was renowned for his mid-combat, moral boosting orations.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Executor Sevon.”

Brisk applause—no one wanted to lose his or her head. “Thank you,” Khendon cleared his throat and placed his palms firmly on the wooden stand. “The Empire is a ripe fruit,” he held a hand up to emphasize the shape, “she is supple and filled with luscious juice. She is rich. She is powerful.

“And, fellow officers, she is in danger,” there was a mild murmur quickly suppressed by a stern look from the speaker. “That is correct, the Empire is in danger. No, not from some predator that plans on making her his own and tasting of the fruit’s sweet flesh! No! I wish it were so, for then our fleets and our mighty war machines could defend her virtue!

“Instead, instead the Empire is filled with a foul disease that eats it from core outward. There is a virus and it is spreading like the airborne contagion it is! You all know its name! You all know its cause—the destruction of our way of life!

“It is the Rebellion!”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

There was a second of time in which no security camera recorded the far east corner of the visitor's center. A split second in every five minute sweep of the room.

The camera on the north wall recorded a figure with dark hair wearing brown robes going through a selection of pamphlets in the eastern corner. As it panned away, the camera in the south wall panned in to view the same corner.

The figure was gone.

[Khendon Sevon]

“These streets are filled with crime! Rampant with plots to steal money from the citizens! Who do you think finances these criminals?!” There was another uncomfortable murmur. Khendon’s oration was beginning to roll along with increasing vigor and energy.

The executor moved away from the podium, eyes filled with passion. “These criminals may very well sit within this room! Look to the man or woman next to you. You see an Imperial officer or civilian employed by this great Empire. How do you know they are content?

“I ask you this question: what keeps you in check from walking into a bank and stealing all of the credits you could carry? FEAR! FEAR IS WHAT KEEPS US CIVIL! It is fear that we must instill in this Rebellion!

[Lilaena De'Ville]

A powerful leap, fueled by the Force, propelled Lilaena to the balcony railing and then over it. She walked quickly across the open walkway into the nearest office, and closed the door. She activated the lock, and flicked the switch that turned the windows opaque.

"Just what do you think you're doing? Who let you up here? Where's your security card?" A middle aged man was sitting behind a small desk, red-faced and spluttering. He reached for his commlink, and then frowned as it went dead in his hand. He clicked the switch off, and then on again, with no results.

Lilaena stepped closer, and plucked the device out of his hand and set it back onto the desk. "Now, now, just sit tight for a moment, and I will be out of your hair." He felt himself being pushed back into his seat, and as he tried to stand up, found it to be impossible. Something was holding him down.

With practiced hands, Lilaena stripped off her woolen overcloak, and then pulled her linen tunic over her head. The clerk started making uncertain noises as he noticed the silvery undershirt she was wearing. Lilaena looked up, and smiled. "Familiar with this?" She reached underneath the sleeveless shirt, and unfastened two class A thermal detonators. "You're probably familiar with these as well."

She set them carefully on the desk, and reached back under to bring out a metallic cyclinder which she put into her holdall. She pulled her tunic back over the silvery material that had blocked the scanners in the visitor's center from detecting the detonators.

"Wha- what do you want? I have a family..." The redness had paled rapidly from his fat cheeks at the sight of the detonators resting on his desk, and the clerk looked up at Lilaena, sweat beading on his forehead.

"I have a family too." Lilaena raised an eyebrow, and leaned across him to look at his computer terminal. "Don't do anything stupid, and you'll get through this just fine and get home to see yours." She checked her chrono, and stood up, slipping the two thermals into pockets inside her holdall. Slipping her brown cloak back on, Lilaena paused, eyes on her chrono.

"Who... who are you?" The Force was still holding the clerk into his chair, and he trembled as she turned to look at him.

She dipped her hand into her holdall, and pulled out the cyclinder, igniting the purple blade. "I am a Jedi." The clerk's eyes popped with surprise as she cleanly separated his head from his shoulders.

Lilaena exhaled, turning off her lightsaber, her hair in her eyes. "I am a Jedi."

[Khendon Sevon]

One of the plump civilian officials began shaking his head. The rotund man stood and instantly raised his nose—fat fell from his endless chin and rolled from his neck in great waves. “This is absurd! I will not listen to this!”

Khendon pointed to the civilian with a finger and shook his head slowly, “SIT DOWN, NOW!” His voice reverberated a thousand times more powerful than the microphone system could ever amplify.

The whites of the Executer’s eyes were now clearly visible as he shook his fist, “The body of Thyferra is rotting! It makes me sick,” he cringed and showed his blanch teeth like a predatory animal, “It makes me sick to my stomach!

“There is traitorous blood running through the veins of even this room! What do we do with a poisonous serpent!? WE SEVER ITS HEAD! That is what we must do now! We must cut this infection from the body and throw it to the ground to die like the bloated, diseased flesh it is!

“Thyferra must be purged.” The Executor nodded in affirmation of his own words.

[IG-88e]

IG-88d, newly arrived to Thyferra, clomped relentlessly up the street. It was, indeed, fortunate to have been in such close proximity already. The local officials had already been notified of his arrival, but he had declined the armed escort option they offered. Purely for aesthetic reasons. They might have been of some use, but he had no need of them and they WERE very biological. The only negative to having declined their assistance was that it drew slightly more attention when a war droid that was completely alone was stomping down a public street, in bright sunlight, bearing weapons that were all illegal for pubilc use on this planet.

Unless, of course, you were a bounty hunter, and you were closing in for the kill.

The security guard standing aimlessly outside Xucphra Corporation's primary structure stared in what could only be amazement and fear as IG-88 drew near to him. Only when the assassin droid came to a stop and pivoted to enter the building did the guard fumbled into action.

"Hey! You... you can't go in there! Uh, like that! I mean... who... what do you think you're doing?"

Gutsy. But most biologicals had many guts. IG-88 had seen plenty of guts, and guts did not concern him.

"Bounty hunter. An acquisition is located inside this structure, and I am apprehending it," he replied. The security guard, unharmed, managed to recall a more pertinent phrase to utter.

"Let's see some identification!"

IG-88d scanned the security biological as he deftly picked a small datachip from his own bandolier and offered it forth. It wouldn't be of much use when the moron didn't have a reader on him. Moron. The biological started to reach for it as he also put a hand in his leftmost pants pocket, then twitched slightly in realization and stopped both motions. He said "Uh", then tried to save face by bending over the datachip and peering at it closely.

"All right... everything looks fine. Let me, ah, give the security office a call and let them know you're here. Before you go in."

"Please use an encrypted channel that only connects to the security office, advise them not to broadcast the information to the other personel, advise them also to lock their doors and arm themselves, and accompany me." Without waiting for a response, IG-88 strode through the motion-sensitive doors. Time was now a factor.

The guard stuttered as he presumably tried to delay the assassin further, then grabbed his comlink and hurredly told them a bounty hunter machine - he hesitated to use the word droid to describe something so unpersonable (Moron) - was here and had told them to go silent and lock up. IG-88 did not find it likely that they would, but perhaps they would beat the odds of biological fault and follow his request with pleasing results. If target J.0032 was made aware of his presence through the security detail's ineptness, IG-88 would have to file a very displeased complaint against their office. Perhaps there would also be casulties. Fortunately, he was too patient to bother forging causes of death that the government would find reasonable for the likes of these. Biologicals had utterly no mental grasp on the infinite patience of droids. He could kill them any time he wanted to. Eventually, they would die in some fashion, and that thought filled him with satisfaction as he came to the middle of the lobby.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

A red light started blinking in the hallway she was standing in.

Lilaena looked at it, and at her chrono, and then at the wires she was just about to cut that she had pulled out of an access plate. Something had triggered the security alarm, and she hadn't even done anything yet.

No time to waste. She sliced the black and green wires with the vibroblade she usually carried in her boot, and the door in front of her slid open. The woman silpped inside, her soft boots making no noise on the tiled flooring.

She was getting closer to where they made the bacta, down in the G4th floor, four stories underground. From the second floor she had taken a hallway into an engineers crawlspace, and then shimmied down through the duct work to bypass the need for a security card to operate the turbolift. Plus, there were always holocams in the 'lifts.

G3 and 4 were the processing and regurgitating stations, where bacta was produced, and then shipped down to floor G5 where it was refined. Various minerals, such as ryll, would be added to the raw bacta to increase, or decrease potency. The filthy Imperials sent purposely poor quality bacta to the Outer Rim worlds that either refused to come under the 'umbrella of Imperial protection' or were suspected of harboring Rebels.

Usually it was both, which was convenient for the Empire.

Floor G1 was just underneath the main floor, and belonged to the immense janatorial staff. Lilaena was beneath that floor, on G2. Where the supercomputer that controlled the building was housed. Everything from climate control and shipping records, to the automated refreshers and bacta refinement tech was controlled from G2.

Lilaena was going to blow it up. The entire batch of bacta would be ruined, millions of gallons worth. The Empire would stumble.

[Khendon Sevon]

“Thyferra must be purged of all sympathy towards the disease that is the rebellion. Any and all that oppose our way of life are a threat—one that this great planet cannot afford

“Bacta is the life blood of the galaxy and a major source of income for this planet. With so many credits being exchanged and such a high profile, the risks of a major terrorist action any day are exceedingly high.

“Just think of the damage that can be done! A well placed explosive could wreak havoc on production! I propose that the local government hand over all security and military forces to the Office of the Executor for a full week.

“In this time we will hunt down all traitors to the Empire! We will burn the blasphemers that would see us die in a pool of our own blood! We will ensure, once and for all, the safety of our bacta production, the risk will be cut in half.

“So, starting today, the Office of the Executor will be taking control.” Khendon hadn’t really gone into the room with any plans or a written speech. He simply had spoken what he wanted to say and improvised as best as he could.

Another civilian official stood, “Executor Sevon, this is an outrage! We will not hand over our government for your cutting block!”

“Secretary, isn’t it? If you have nothing to hide you won’t mind me using the powers that were bestowed upon me by the Emperor. I have the full legal right to take control of any military or civilian assets I wish. Technically, I’m being nice.

“Oh, and, Mr. Secretary, your head has been on my cutting block for some time now. Sit down.”

[IG-88e]

IG-88d strode with long, purposeful, and fast steps to the immense desk at the far end of the lobby; the shrieking wail of the sensor doorway he left behind as the number of guards staring at him in uncertainty began to multiply. Startled shouts and a solitary scream erupted when he chopped his right arm down through the back of the desk. Deftly, quickly, he plucked a feed line from the back of the computer bank under the desk. Continuing to scan the vicinity using what were to biologicals either classified as "visible" or "invisible" spectrums of light, he plugged the jack into his head.

Information flowed, but of course it wasn't the kind he needed. Coldly, and faster than human thought, the droid hacked into the security systems, holocam recorders, motion sensors, structure blueprints. The security buffoons had apparently activated a silent alarm, setting off small light blinkers all over the massive building. Of course she wouldn't notice THAT. Morons. She's probably notice one before most of the security detail stationed around the structure did.

Holocams. The front lobby was too bustling for her to have chosen any other way in, so he started scanning the recordings there, starting at the time unit SWAe-02 had reported her entering the building. Naturally enough, the holocam verified the street cleaner droid's story and showed a figure wrapped in a brown length of cloth entering the building. Following her progress at ten times the speed of realtime, so that he wouldn't miss anything, IG-88d observed her enter the visitor's center and then vanish in the moron-constructed blind spot of two converging holocams sweeps. There were few options as to what she could have done in the 1.02 Standard seconds she was left unrecorded, the most likely being a J-class vertical leap to the next floor. The blueprints IG-88 had downloaded showed a balcony there, overlooking the visitor's center. Clearly, J.0032 did not consider herself to be a visitor.

Options. Either J.0032 desired to assassinate a target on the upper floors... or J.0032 desired to interfere in the productions of bacta on the lower floors. Only one of those options required her presence on this high-security building. Only one of those options was really worth the time and effort of a Rebel terrorist, when compared to the other. It was clear that she would either insert a poisonous agent into the bacta, or simply destroy it. Potent poisons, as they were difficult to manufacture with the ability to self-replicate, would require her to have quite a lot of them with her. Yet she clearly had little more than her clothes and carryall with her. She was unlikely to have a stash of them located in the building already; if she had been able to do that then she would have fake passes and the ability to move freely around the structure. Clearly she did not. The amount of explosives required to shut down production for a while would be much smaller.

It had been nearly thirty-five Standard minutes since she had entered the building, fifteen since she had escaped the holocams. IG-88d unplugged the feed line, having already assembled a program able to remotely access the security network. The lobby held its breath.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

A standard Imperial issue thermal detonator packed enough baradium to create a fusion reaction that would disintegrate anything within five meters. A Class A detonator has a blast radius of twenty meters, four times the standard range.

For the result she wanted Lilaena had manually set the detonators to their longest countdown, which was five minutes. She had to make her way to Mainframe D7, a cluster of processors which ran perpendicular to the central hub. D7 alone going down would cause a chain reaction throughout the system, but with the detonators she could knock out the parallel units, causing a system failure that couldn't be stopped.

Not to mention, probably shatter the foundation of the building on the west side, and cause it to crumble. Lilaena poked her head around a corner, and then jogged down the tight passageway, scanning the barcoded aisles. She was at T9, with time running out. It wouldn't be long until Xuchapra security noticed the dead clerk.

[Khendon Sevon]

A cringe had been forming on Khendon’s angry face. He hated giving speeches. This was a waste of his precious breath. The Executor had more important deeds to do—he should’ve been hunting down rebel traitors instead of screaming at a bunch of bureaucrats.

“The only way to cleanse Thyferra is to ensure impartiality in judgment. As such, I am hereby suspending all court activity and routing it through my office. From this moment on, the virus’s spread will be stopped.

“My first action will be to remove those traitors that are closest to the heart and brain of our beloved body.” Khendon nodded and the doors to the auditorium were suddenly slammed shut. Bolts could be heard reverberating behind the reinforced structures.

More voices of outrage came from the gathered politicians and military personnel. Khendon jumped from the raised platform and landed delicately. “Calm, calm. There is no need to be afraid less you are treasonous. All others will be spared.”

The Executor walked up the rows until he came to the small-moon-sized politician that had spoken out before. “Mr. Covara, I told you we have to sever the head of the snake that poisons our Empire. Do you agree?”

The man looked extremely timid, beads of sweat rolled down his pudgy face and collected in pools near the folds of his overlapping flesh.

“I said, do you agree!?"

“Well, I—that is to say, uh. Executor! Please! No!”

[IG-88e]

IG-88d plucked a security card from the nearest Xucphra guard, who flinched backward and blanched. Without bothering to explain himself, the assassin strode into the lobby turbolift, inserted the card, and tapped the "Door Close" icon. That biologicals would have the button that closed the doors named "Door Close" and not "Close Doors" was merely one of the multitude of disturbingly moronic issues peculiar to their kind.

He had the option now to travel to several lower floors. Other than the double alphanumeric floor names, they were not labeled. Looking at the blueprints, IG-88 tried to surmise each floor's intent:

G1. The layout was standard for a housing and recreational facility... the offices upstairs had their own equivalent of these, thus this belonged to those working underground, as well as any janitorial or maintenence staff.
G2. Apparently wired for power generators and the central computer.
G3. This was much more unfamiliar. Clearly an industrial area.
G4. Much the same as G4.
G5. Less complex, and the largest of the floors. There were industrial-grade turbolifts here, which only ran from G5 to the loading docks on the ground level. Obviously, the bacta became a finished product here, and was processed in order of G3 G4 G5.

His link to the security station informed him that two guards had come upon an incapacitated and decapitated desk clerk on the second floor. The Xucphra morons took this as a clear indication that target J.0032 was heading upstairs to slaughter their leaders, and issued commands to all security teams to actively search those floors; as well, they transmitted a building-wide broadcast telling all they knew to alert employees and civilians alike to the presence of a Rebellion assassin. That was clever of them. How helpful. Next, the team that had discovered the clerk reported that not only was he missing his head, but also his thumbs. They were taking off his shoes to check on his toes right now. No, he had all of his toes. What monster could have done this? Jeim had had such a nice family.

IG-88d began ignoring the security comm channels at that point. J.0032 would be on or trying to reach floor... G2. Obviously G1 held no interest for her, and destroying what lay on G2 would seem to have the same effect as destroying G3, G4, and G5 combined. She couldn't have enough explosives to level any entire floor, anyway. She would be after one of the supercomputers.

IG-88 hoped, for hope he could, that J.0032 would use a remote detonator for her explosives. Failing that, that she would be using some sort of unaltered thermal detonator. That would be nice, he thought, as his turbolift arrived on floor G2 and beeped in acknowledgement of that fact.

He set all of his sensors to active scanning, and raised two of his weapons of choice into useful firing trajectories. A Stouker concussion rifle and an Imperial repeater rifle should fit the bill nicely, here. Normally, IG-88 would have to concern himself with not causing untoward collateral damage... but in this case, at least, he could afford the luxury of not caring.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The supercomputer was housed in a large circular room, cooled by an intricate venting system that kept the processors from overheating and catching fire. The fans created ambient noise as Lilaena scanned the aisles from the circumference of the room.

Suddenly alert, more alert if it were possible, the woman ducked into aisle D4, and eased her lightsaber out of her holdall, but didn't ignite it. Not yet.

She felt acutely aware of being followed, but felt no life through the Force. It reminded her a little of when -

The white noise created by the cooling system failed to conceal the clunk of a heavy metal foot. Only IG-88 would be so arrogant as to not worry about the sound his feet were making as he stalked his prey. Only IG-88, the bounty hunter who had murdered her master, A'na Eldhil, could have created the unusual resonance in the Force that Lilaena was tuned into.

She was only at D4, she needed to get three rows over, and then break for the 'lifts. But where was IG-88?

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon frowned at the man and cocked his head to one side. “Mr. Covara, are you begging?” In a blur of motion the Executor grabbed the man’s hand between knuckle and wrist and applied firm pressure while twisting. He continued to rotate the joint until he could see Covara’s palm. With a simple tug and increased force, Khendon brought the politician to his knees.

The entire room grew suddenly still save for a few whimpers from the bureaucrat. The civilians and many of the military men were used to jokes, but this had gone too far. The Executor was a serious man; yet, they had thought this all in fun. There was no way he would actually go through with what he had suggested… could he?

“For high crimes against the Emperor I, Executor Sevon, sentence you to death by the most expedient means possible.” Faces looked on the impending execution with shocked expressions. The most veteran officers seemed to turn pale—this Executor was even more ruthless than Vader, could it be possible?

Khendon’s cold, detached stare examined the fat oaf of a man for a moment. The dark soldier’s features remained calm and completely stolid. Like a tall, black reaper the office loomed over the sobbing politician.

A sudden flexing of muscles followed by a powerful motion found Khendon’s knee connecting with the man’s face. A loud crack reverberated throughout the silent auditorium as the heavy body lifted a full three feet off the tiled floor.

The corpse hit the ground with the grace of a sack of rocks. The body lay motionless on its back. Limbs were limp. Death had entered Covara’s eyes before his nerves even had time to respond to the immense damage with messages of pain.

“I trust there are no more traitors in this room, are there?”

Everyone remained still and completely silent, eyes locked on the death that had found its way into the auditorium.

The Executor cracked a wicked smile and spoke in a calm, clear voice, “Good.”