Star Wars Star Wars: Timerift

I clutch the blade at my side, keeping it well hidden behind the thick cloak that drapes over my shoulders and conceals my facial features. The rain pours from the sky, creating a steady torrent of water that swirls around the soles of my boots. The pavement that I stand on has become slippery as the downpour continues, and I risk the chance of going down with every step. My tunic has become heavy with rain, sending shivers up my spine and giving me goosebumps wherever my skin is exposed.

My hair falls across my forehead in a tangled mess, so I push it out of the way in frustration. It falls back into place after a bloated alien nudges me from behind, making me fall forward on my hands and knees. He mutters something in a bizarre language that I don't understand, before shoving me to the side in annoyance. I quickly regain my posture and push myself to my feet before the unrelenting motion of the crowd tramples me to death. More bodies push against me as more people try to escape the rain and take refuge in nearby dwellings, only to be directed back into the sentient traffic zone by impatient imperial officials.

Menion Prime is a backwater planet, inhabited only by the lowest creatures and lowlifes of the galaxy. I fit right in. Makes it easier to get by on your own when you can blend in without attracting attention. The only backdraw is that the whole planet is infested with Imperials - they showed up only a few months ago, and have already brought an iron fist down on all trade and commerce, establishing new and unpopular regulations and tariffs. Luckily, the imperial soldiers who were drafted came unprepared and unaware of just how strong a presence imperial opposition had given root among the planet's more roudier districts. They were susceptible to uprisings.

Today, however, imperial presence is stronger than ever. They've sent in several security droids to patrol the streets, and have sectioned off a large warehouse guarded by hoards of stormtroopers. I absent-mindedly wonder to myself what exactly it is that they're guarding, before I remember my primary objective.

Tucking the blade into my belt and quickly fastening my cloak over it, I take stock of my surroundings. Analyzing every building, every sign, anything that I find familiar. I know this town like the back of my hand - every alleyway, every street corner, which faces I can label as friends, and enemies. Which shopkeepers I can trust to keep my secrets.

Then I see my target.

Whipping out my primitive datapad from the bowels of my heavy robes, I examine the imperial record supplied to me by my contractor. Agent Corius Faren. His name has no meaning to me, but a little extra knowledge wouldn't hurt. I know I should have never accepted this mission, because I know I'm really pushing it this time. It's never easy to kill Imperials. It can earn you an unwanted reputation - I momentarily freeze, my mind conflicted over what lies ahead, before ducking into a nearby durasteel bin. This is it.

He wears the typical grey standard uniform of most imperial officers, with the addition of armor over his chest and a sturdy looking helmet. His rank is clearly visible through the rain, catching my eye. Imperials and their stupid pride. There's no doubt in my mind that more than a handful of people would desire to see him dead. Considering the bounty over his head, I suppose his arrogance will be his downfall.

Peering around the bin, I watch silently as he barks orders to several stormtroopers, looking swelled with dignity. Somehow, a sickly looking Rodian manages to push through the line of stormtroopers trafficking the crowd, and immediately falls to his knees, lifting his hands in some sort of plea. A beggar.

In response, Agent Faren firmly grasps him by the shoulders, and pulls him upright. It's hard to tell, but it looks like he's going to fulfill the poor fellow's request, before he clocks him right in the face, sending the dazed Rodian sprawling to the dirt. When he tries to get back up, Faren knees him in the stomach, causing him to double over and curl up in pain. I want to do something...want to interfere...but I don't want to blow my cover. Not yet, anyways. Not when my target is in plain view.

Anger surges through me as the agent barks some more orders at his guards, and they begin to drag the poor Rodian towards my position. I immediately tense up, freezing in place, but well hidden, as they near my location. They can't see me...I must not let them see me…

Suddenly, there's a struggle, and the bewildered Rodian manages to yank himself free of his captors, beelining straight for the thick gathering of people that clog the street, probably hoping to blend in. His apparent plan, however, backfires as the crowd parts, forming a large circle around him, and leaving him in plain view of his pursuers.

_Blam!_

A single shot penetrates the back of his head, and he crumples to the ground, dead. I look on in shock as the guards drag the corpse once again towards me, before tossing it right into the durasteel bin that I'm kneeling behind with a loud thump, making me cringe. Just above me, the dead Rodian's hand sways slightly over the edge. Carrion for rats and conduit slugs.

As if nothing has happened, Agent Faren continues on his patrol, which to him apparently means standing in place and looking important. Sheathing the datapad, I creep forward around the corner of a large building, pulling the hood back over my face, and quickly sidestep back into the crowd. My mind begins to race through all the different tactics I could use to get behind Faren and slit his throat. A nearby apartment has a rusty looking ladder which I could use to get above the crowd, and past Faren's security line. Perfect. This way, I can avoid detection while simultaneously getting myself closer.

Pushing my way diagonally through the moving mass of citizens, I am able to make it to the apartment building in no time. Taking several quick glances to make sure I am generally unnoticed, I hastily climb the ladder, hauling myself onto the rooftop. The wind gently tugs at my cloak as I ascend. The rumble of angry citizens scrambling for shelter is below me, replaced by the sound of the softly blowing breeze. I reach for my dagger, reassured when I find its hilt tucked into my belt. The first part of my plan was easy - the next part is the hard part. Tentatively stepping towards the edge of the rooftop, I calculate the jump from the apartment to the next building over. It looks to be around six feet - if I get a running start, I should be able to make it.

I take a deep breath, sucking in the cool night air, and step back, glancing behind my left shoulder, until I am standing at the opposite side of the roof. Digging my heels into the ground, my feet take off, each step planting into the dirt with immense force, until they finally meet air instead of solid ground. For a moment, all I can hear is the sound of my throbbing heart, which beats with such intensity that beads of sweat begin to form on my forehead. Then, I hit the ground again, falling into a dive roll and landing swiftly on my back. The impact momentarily knocks the air out of me, leaving me dazed.

Faren is directly below me now, completely unaware of his impending fate. I take out the dagger, moonlight dancing along its ragged edge. All I have to do is jump down and take him out with one decisive movement, ending his life quickly as possible before making an escape. I'm just about to pounce on my awaiting prey, when I feel a sudden pang of doubt. Somehow, I feel as if my plan is doomed to fail. What if the guards catch me? They'll no doubt have me executed for my actions, even if I fail to kill the agent. Fear mixed with anticipation holds me in an iron grip, and for a moment, I'm as still as a stone statue. Am I really going to do this?

_I have to, _I think to myself. I need the credits, and if I have to spend one more night feasting on the garbage left behind shady diners, I don't know if I can go on.

I have to do this. My limbs are shaking, both from the chill of the rain and from my growing nervousness, but I still manage to jump, hovering like a bird over it's prey.

I'm falling, down, down, down, before I feel the impact of body against body, crashing to the ground. Agent Faren lays sprawled beside me, rubbing his head in confusion. This is my chance, this is it!

Grasping the dagger, I quickly pull myself onto his chest, my legs pinning both of his arms, positioning the blade at his throat. For some reason, I can't do it. I can't bring myself to do it. Why can't I do it? I just sit there stupidly, and for a few fleeting seconds, our eyes lock on to each other, and I still haven't killed him …

The prey has caught it's predator red handed.

Still I remain motionless, my body frozen, my blood ice cold, and my eyes wide open in paralyzing confusion, before I am yanked upwards by a pair of gloved hands.

Faren is shouting something, but I don't hear it. I see his mouth moving, but nothing processes in my mind. In the confusion, people are shouting all around me, but their words mean nothing to me. Someone squeezes my wrist and I yell out in pain, releasing the dagger and letting it fall to the ground. I'm fighting, kicking, biting, but to no avail. Two stormtroopers have both of my arms behind my back, and a third keeps me in a constricting choke hold. Slowly, my senses return to me, I begin to process the situation. I've been caught.

They'll surely execute me now...or worse, depending on Faren's preferences. The pale-faced agent gets back up on his feet, dusting off his military trousers and straightening his helmet, before turning a stern look towards me. His eyes are full of hatred, and his fists are shaking with fury.

"Tell me, what exactly was it that you were planning to do, girl?" Faren spits, his face now inches from my own. The stormtroopers grip on my arms is starting to hurt, and I wince. When I don't answer, he provides one instead, pointing an accusatory finger.

"You...you tried to kill me!"

I refuse to give him the satisfaction of a response, so he elbows me in the nose, hard. Blood gushes from my nostrils, and I begin to black out, tasting a metallic tinge in my mouth. Years of starvation have not served my frail body very well, and the impact hurts.

"You stupid little girl...you had a blade at my throat!" he pushes, kicking my dagger with his boot. This time, when his face is close enough to mine, I stain it with a mixture of saliva and blood.

Faren reacts with rage, swiftly turning his back to me and storming off as stormtroopers on either side make a clear path for him to walk through. Before he is out of my sight, he suddenly stops cold and gives one final look my way. What sends a chill up my spine is that this time, he's smiling.

"Bring her to the barracks and have her executed" he says, a slight pur in his voice, before disappearing behind a wall of white stormtrooper armor. I am suddenly aware of the hundreds of eyes that are now fixated on me. I must be being broadcast all over the city, as I catch several surveillance droids hovering around, snapping photos and recording my every movement.

They're going to execute me…

The final realization hits me, and I start screaming like a maniac, pleading for my worthless life. My words of course, mean nothing to the stormtroopers who now drag me across the ground, just as they dragged the corpse of the Rodian beggar. I'm wondering which method they'll use to bring about my untimely demise when something strange happens. Something completely and utterly unexpected.


End file.
