The Hit by D525.

It was morning. A soft, silvery rain had come and passed and the dense woods seemed to permanently trap the moisture in the air, as if the tiny droplets were forever caught in suspension between rain and fog. Occasionally rays of sunlight pierced the tree canopy and sliced down thru the woodland depths, highlighting the swirling mists. Everything glistened wet.

Vaquero sat motionless aboard his parked speeder, contemplating his next move. He had followed them here to this remote site and it suited his needs perfectly, it was time to complete the contract.

The contract called for the elimination of a Chieftain known as Yurrlan, and the elimination of a Wookiee Chieftain was certainly not an act that Vaquero took lightly. Clan wars on Kashyyyk did not typically present bounties that he would consider, but this one was very different, and just too juicy to pass up. The client was wealthy, extremely so, had paid nearly half up front, and for whatever reasons wished this particular clan to be dealt a serious hit. So here he was, sitting in a damp forest calculating the best possible method to accomplish that goal.

He cycled the display in his helmet thru ambient light filters, to ultraviolet, to electromagnetic, and then finally to infra-red, which was really the only filter that offered much help sighting thru the heavy mists. The Wookiees had started a fire at their site, that much was certain, and that made it difficult to positively identify exactly how many were up and moving about. It appeared that there were four distinct figures milling about on the near side of the fire, relatively close to Vaquero's position. They were four very large figures at that, four adult males.

Naturally, as with any unusual contract, there were alarm bells going off inside his head. Why in the galaxy would a wealthy individual take any interest in the inner workings of a clan on Kashyyyk? Vaquero had recently executed a very lucrative contract with this particular client, and that had boosted his confidence in the client's stability, but this was still quite unusual. Even more unusual was the fact that the group Vaquero's target was traveling with didn't seem all that concerned with being attacked. They had journeyed to this remote site, which offered modest protection at best, and really they weren't outfitted for defending themselves.

He hadn't yet made visual confirmation that Yurrlan was here, but this was the group the Chieftain had left the tree city of Itaska with, and there had been no splintering or defections from the main group. Point of fact, they had been fairly simple to track. Vaquero hated to assume things, but then again there was never any certainty in this line of work. You had to trust your instincts and skills to get you thru.

Close enough to his target that he could proceed on foot, Vaquero made straight for the sentries milling about just ahead. A verpine rifle with a suppressor could eliminate them without a notion of commotion or a bit of noise, but he needed to verify that they weren't visible to anyone from the camp. He clicked back to ambient light, but they still weren't visible to him thru the mists and tree trunks and vegetation. Back to IR. Three smaller figures had suddenly joined the four sentries. Their sizes were that of adolescents, large compared to a human, but Wookiee children nonetheless. Vaquero paused mid-step then slowly sank down onto his haunches, crouching, watching the IR display of his helmet very intently.

The worst happened. The three smaller figures eagerly left the sentry group, and as if life would have it any other way, the children headed straight towards his position. They playfully pushed one another and wrestled momentarily, but sure enough their course was dead on toward where Vaquero crouched. He quickly checked visible conditions once more, and saw that he was camouflaged quite well, blending in with the giant fern leaves and undergrowth that crowded so thickly around the enormous tree trunks. Sealed within the bodysuit of his armor he did not emit any scent at all.

Back to IR again. The trio were still closing on him, rapidly, and quite directly. He brought the verp up about as fast as a flower blooms, carefully sighting on the lead child, safety off. The young Wookiee had his head turned and was conversing with Wookiee number two in line behind him. They were thirty feet from him and closing.

Vaquero's finger settled easily onto the trigger, and he slowed his breathing. Crosshairs on the lead Wookiee's turned head. Number three abruptly slugged the leader in the arm and raced off to the right. The lead two howled something after him, then gave chase.

Vaquero exhaled softly, lifting his finger and lowering the verp.

The roar was ground-shaking and it bellowed from directly behind him, so close that he could actually feel the power of it, and before he had the chance to turn, he was slammed flat to the ground by a blow so forceful that he nearly went unconscious, even with armor on. Dazed, he tried desperately to roll, to get clear of his attacker, but powerful hands grabbed a hold of him, lifting him high into the air.

He could hear and feel another roar. The sensation of being thrown, of being weightless in flight, his field of vision was senseless, everything a blur in the IR filter. The end came abruptly.

There was only darkness.