Chapter Text
Crosshair watched from a booth across the bar as the Witch worked her magic. They’d reached the planet the Inquisitor’s Outpost was meant to be found on, but it seemed Boba’s information, as detailed it was on the base and mission, lacked the crucial inclusion of coordinates, forcing them to find other means of locating the place. Right now, that involved the Witch talking to the local bartender of the small town they’d landed in while Crosshair kept watch nearby.
He felt naked in civvies, but apparently walking into a small town in full gear was off-putting and identifiable when they were just trying to get information. He agreed, but still. At least he had a blaster on him, if only his DC-17 on his leg.
He was keeping an eye on the people going in and out of the bar, tracking every person closely. The place had a heavy Imperial presence, they’d barely been able to avoid patrols as they’d walked in. Currently, he was focused on a human who was getting a little too friendly with the Witch, with clearly nothing of importance to share. She did a good job of not letting him distract her from her conversation with the bartender, who was becoming quite animated as they talked.
Crosshair’s hand drifted to his blaster when he saw the man’s hand slip towards one of the Witch’s pockets, but had no need draw it. Her hand shot to the man’s yanking it away and twisting, sending the man to the floor without rising from her seat. She had to have used some Force osik to pull that off so seamlessly. She simply smiled and apologised to the bartender. Crosshair let his hand fall from his blaster as the man retreated.
His attention was caught by the screen the man passed. It was just some race being streamed from another planet, some big event for betting he assumed, judging by the small crowd cheering loudly at the screen, gloating at those groaning in frustration and disappointment as another speeder was destroyed. One person sat at a nearby table organising credits as the race ran, preparing to hand out winning bets and refusing a late one.
That wasn’t what caught his attention, however. His eyes narrowed at the screen when the camera cut back to a very familiar face in one of those speeders. Even it hadn’t, there was no mistaking who it was, the di’kut hadn’t even changed his name for the televised race.
He huffed as he watched his brother narrowly avoid getting scrapped as he raced the track. Of course this was what they’d managed to find themselves doing while apparently laying low. Though, his brow furrowed when he caught a glimpse of the pits as Tech raced through them, dropping his weapons before speeding back into the race. Crosshair only saw Wrecker and the kid there. He wondered where the other two could possibly be, letting this kind of thing happen.
He was brought back into the room by the sudden hush. Glancing at the door, he swore and turned to face the table, head down. The Witch took notice and played it cool as an Imperial officer walked in, shadowed by two TK troopers.
The Imperial stopped at the bar just a few spaces along, the bartender already having cut off their conversation with the Witch to pour a drink for the newcomer. The Imperial raised the cup to them before taking a sip. He turned to lean on the bar, surveying the room, which had gradually returned to almost normal. He skipped right over Crosshair, taking another sip before looking over at one of the troopers standing rigidly beside him. He leaned over to whisper something, chuckling as the trooper forced himself to relax a little.
The bartender started up a conversation with the Imperial, bringing his attention back from the rest of the room. Though Crosshair couldn’t hear anything they said, they seemed amicable. The Witch lingered at her spot just down the bar, swirling a cup in her hands and taking the occasional sip while Crosshair pretended to return his attention to the screen, now showing highlights of the race.
After a few minutes, the Witch finished her drink and began walking out of the bar. The Imperials paid her no mind as she left, but the bartender raised the empty cup when they took it back. Crosshair waited a couple more minutes before following her out. A trooper glanced over as he stood, but made no move towards him.
Outside, he scanned the quiet street for the Witch, avoiding the Imperial speeder parked just outside and the TK troopers standing around it. He began walking towards their agreed rendezvous further down the block, making sure neither of the troopers took any interest in him. They paid him little mind.
When he turned the corner, he didn’t immediately spot her.
“Fool!”
He rolled his eyes and began walking towards the hissed call. She was waiting for him further along the street, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of a pillar. Her mouth was pressed in a line as thin as her patience since they’d approached the planet.
He leaned on the other side of the pillar, eyes on the street corner.
“Those Imps are apparently in town for a supply run.” The Witch said quietly.
“The speeder parked out front doesn’t look big enough for that. Could be the main transport’s elsewhere ready to move.”
“Probably.”
“Any idea where it could be?”
“A chatty barkeep suggested the west landing pads.”
“Shall we?”
The Witch pushed off the wall and continued down the street, disappearing around the first right. Crosshair followed, eyes peeled for anything off.
The walk to the west landing pads wasn’t long. The town was small, and the warehouses lining the western side were visible from almost everywhere, even in the dark of the night. It was the opposite side of town to the public landing pads, but no more than a ten-minute run. Still too far if they began to take off before they were ready.
The pair stuck together as they got close, keeping out of sight from the increased Imperial presence as they reconned. The Imperial supply ship was easy to spot, that kind of military vessel impossible to miss. It was large, and from what he could see of the inside past the lowered ramp teeming with troopers loading cargo, encumbered. It would be no problem to keep up with it in their ships. The V Wings parked nearby were a bigger issue. Following them undetected would be a problem.
They pulled back into an alley for a hushed discussion.
The Witch was displeased. “There’s no way we can follow them completely undetected while keeping the shipment in sight.”
“Maybe for you.” Crosshair jabbed. He revelled in her offended glare before pulling a disc from his pocket. “A tracking beacon. Usually, I’d fire it from my Firepuncher, but we just had to go civvies.”
“So how do you intend to get it on the ship undetected? We can’t just waltz in there.”
“What, the Witch can’t think of a solution?”
She snatched the tracker from his hand with a glare. “We still need to find somewhere quieter.” Without further elaboration, she began creeping around to the back of the building they were crouched by. Crosshair followed as she rounded the corner. She was looking up to study the top of the building, then silently leapt the two storeys to the roof.
Crosshair scoffed and continued around the building to keep watch on the landing pad. The ship was almost completely loaded by then, the final few crates being moved as the troopers began to gather around, waiting for their commanding officer to return. He couldn’t be far off.
He couldn’t see the Witch from the ground, so he kept watch on the troopers and hoped she was doing her job. He didn’t have to wait long. The troopers seemed to get orders, some hands going to helmets with short nods and everyone jumping into action, piling into the ships and preparing to take off. Crosshair shuffled around the building further, sticking to the shadows to see the Imperial officer and his troopers returning on their speeder.
He glanced back up to the roof, waiting for the Witch to just plant the damn tracker. It finally flew from the rooftop, spinning through the air after having been thrown. He was about to curse himself for trusting her to get it done if she was just going to throw the krififng thing, when it began sailing further than the arc of the throw should have allowed. It planted itself on the side of the cargo ship, nestled among some raised panels. He watched it unfold and activate upon landing.
Mission complete, he lingered to make sure no Imperials had spotted it before slinking back into the alley. The Witch dropped from the rooftop to land next to him as he rounded the building, and together they disappeared into the night.
The tracker blinked on the ship’s sensors. It had stopped moving just over an hour after they’d placed it, giving them plenty of time to gear up and prep their ships for the journey. The twin suns were breaching the horizon as they flew, Crosshair a couple klicks ahead of the Witch.
Suspicion grew in him the longer the tracker stayed online. It was a good thing that it seemingly hadn’t been found, but if this place was as secret and secure as it seemed, it should have been discovered by then. Just what were they walking into? He looked over at the helmet staring at him from the copilot’s seat, searching its unseeing green for answers it never had the clearance to possess. All he found was the backup plan, his chance. If he really wanted it.
He refocused on the viewport as he rose to clear some mountains, covered in dense green life that contrasted the almost brown grasslands that led up to it. As soon as he could see over the peak, he pulled his ship around in a wide arc, dipping back below the cover of the mountains and sending a ping to the Witch’s ship. When he received one back, he began searching for a place to land, finding the closest safe place tucked inside a cave along one of the buttresses near the base of the mountains. It wasn’t long before the other ship joined him.
Pulling his helmet on, he exited his ship, meeting the Witch just outside.
“The outpost is in the valley between neighbouring mountain ranges, covered from all sides. We’ll need to go up to get in.” He reported.
He expected frustration, but was met with steely determination. “Then we’d better get moving.”
“It’s likely they know about these caves.”
“Then we’d better move quickly.”
He couldn’t argue with that. Once their ships were secure, they prepared for the long hike. It would likely take them most of the day to reach the outpost, placing their arrival almost perfectly with the return of dusk.
They climbed in silence, pausing twice for short breaks. Crosshair had questions, but now wasn’t the time, and he’d rather focus on the task at hand rather than a likely aggravating conversation, no matter how much he enjoyed those. But he couldn’t deny that he was curious who the Witch had decided was worth all this risk for just the chance to find where they might be. He shut down that train of thought before it wandered too far; he had a mission to focus on.
Darkness fell quickly under the cover of the towering trees, and thick foliage sprouted among them, though through the canopy he caught glimpses of the oranging sky. During one of those glances, he heard the roar of a ship and caught a glimpse of a dark blur flying past.
He shoved the Witch towards a tree, keeping low in the foliage. She looked like she wanted to protest, but recognised the sounds of ships flying by, even if she couldn’t see them. When the last of them flew past, Crosshair lowered his rangefinder, using the heat camera to confirm that they hadn’t been spotted. The last yellow blot of a hot engine disappeared over the crest without any sign of turning back.
He flicked the rangefinder back up and signalled to keep moving.
“They were headed towards the outpost. Maybe the child’s information was wrong and the Inquisitor is back.”
The Witch’s brow furrowed at that possibility. “Or it could have been a patrol.”
“I never pegged you as the optimist.”
“I never pegged you as the type to get chatty on the job.”
He conceded that point and let the silence fall over them again. They were getting close to the outpost, so he kept an eye out for ground patrols hidden among the trees. He didn’t find any, not even a hidden sensor tower. For a place that was apparently so important, it had a vital lack of security. Maybe being the home of a big bad Inquisitor was meant to be enough to scare most reasonable people off.
The ground began to level beneath their feet, not entirely flat but the incline got much easier to manage. They both crouched low as they approached a break in the trees. Past the tree line, they could see the opposite mountain range, equally as tall and lush as the one they were on. The sky was turning twilight blue now that the suns had disappeared behind the peaks, and presumably the horizon.
It also revealed another reason for the lack of perimeter security. Now that they were looking out on it from the ground, the distance between the imposing outpost and the mountains around it was much wider than Crosshair’s initial glimpse had revealed. The sides of the mountains that faced the valley were less densely vegetated and incredibly steep. Steep cliffs left anyone not authorised to be there trapped with little option to escape but to climb.
The outpost stretched up three quarters of the shortest mountain, placing the top of the building almost level with them. Like the hologram showed, there were few, if any, windows on the building, leaving fortified durasteel to dominate the valley.
Far below, they could see white armoured troopers milling about on the ground. A large hangar bay door was closing a few storeys down from the top, likely where the ships had disappeared to. Continuing to scan the wall, Crosshair spotted a narrow ledge a couple floors above the hangar that they’d pointed out on the hologram and began prepping his Firepuncher.
The Witch moved out of the way as he lined up his shot. He fired the line across the gap. It attached securely to the wall above the ledge on the outside of the building. He unhooked the other end and attached it to a nearby tree, testing its viability before motioning for the Witch to go ahead while he attached a zipline cable between his armour and the line.
She wordlessly approached the line. It was secured at a downward angle, allowing them to zip along it. He wondered if she had anything to use for it when she pulled out her lightsaber and used it as a zipline. And he thought those were meant to be sacred or something. He huffed as he kept watch on the troopers milling way below them.
When she reached the other side undetected, he watched the troopers for a few seconds longer before approaching the cliff. His eyes never left the troopers below as he zipped along the line. He didn’t want to risk being spotted for a second, and forgive him for not trusting the Witch with it.
He pulled himself onto the ledge as soon as his feet touched it. He detached the line from himself then the wall and hit a button to detach the other anchor and retract the line. The line was long and began to swing once it cleared the ledge. Beside him, the Witch held out a hand and caught the anchor, keeping it in the air while allowing it to retract uninhibited. As soon as it was back, he returned it to its pouch and motioned to keep moving.
He followed the Witch as she scooted confidently across the ledge to the large vent cover. She held out a hand palm up and he watched as the screws undid themselves and floated to land in her hand. When she had all four, she eased the cover off and motioned for him to go. She entered close behind him, pausing to restore the vent cover before making their way into the dark.