A Walk In The Park

Rating : NC-17 for some violence, naughty language, and explicit sex
Disclaimer: All characters, situations, and planets are the creation of the author except “Zabrak”, “gundark”, “bacta”, and Darth Maul, which belong to George Lucas, the only guy making money off them. Heaven knows, the author will never see a cent, especially if she continues writing swill like this, the perv.
Summary: In which our heroine discovers that being the best in her field doesn’t mean squat when she’s sent after a certain dark stranger who happens to be the best in his.
Feedback: Please send feedback to Darth Krispies
Initial posting: On dmeb2.

“Company policy, in accordance with Republic law, states that no civilian employee in the Service branch shall own, carry or use an energy weapon or any kind…or such biological or chemical weapons otherwise proscribed by law in the execution of their duties”.

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The second explosion came less than half a second after the first, pushing the stunned guests, employees, and entertainers at Burtoll “Fat Burty” Pandoli’s ultra-secure and ultra-luxury compound into screaming panic. Pandoli’s bodyguards quickly moved to disentangle a shrieking, statuesque blonde in a tiny red thong dress from Burty’s lap in an effort to hustle him to safety, however three of them were floored by the flailing of her long, surprisingly strong limbs.

A wiry, red-headed barkeep yelled “Look out! It’s going to blow!” just before a third bomb went off, filling the last corners of the crowded room with black, oily smoke. Burty struggled out of the too-deep sofa and scrambled blindly toward what he hoped was the exit. A security guard, coughing and eyes streaming loomed up in front of him and shouted “No good! That way’s blocked” before collapsing on top of the remaining bodyguard, shoved from behind by the press of blinded, panicked people.

Burty backed away from the screaming crowd, trying to orient himself and wondering which of his rivals had turned a pleasant afternoon of drugs and debauchery into an embarrassing fiasco. His aggressive approach toward annexing smaller operators’ drug and gun-running territories had made him a lot of enemies. Apparently one had managed to penetrate the security of his home base.

Burty pulled out a small, sleek customized blaster and made for a back exit. He cursed loudly as he tripped on an overturned chair, but felt a hand on his arm steady him, as an anxious-sounding woman’s voice near his ear called “Sir! Sir! This way! Come on, we gotta get you out!” Burty turned the gun on her, then relaxed slightly at the sight of a slightly familiar small brown face, framed by a helmet of his private security forces, peering at him with a worried expression.

“Which way?” he snapped, pulling his arm out of her grasp. She beckoned, not bothering to yell over the noise in the room now punctuated by gunfire as the security forces of his guests began shooting, probably at each other. Burty followed her slight form as she made for a door that would lead to one of the employee walkways. He followed her out, and was barely through the door before a large, heavy object, thrown by an unseen hand, barely missed his head, glancing off the wall next to him. Burty fired wildy into the crowded smoky room several times before the door finally closed behind him. His ears ringing, he became aware that the little security guard was standing in front of him, her face a mask of concern.

Confused, he wondered why an employee was using his full name. Burty snapped “Yes?” before his brain caught up with him. The woman grinned, and a twitch of her hands sent the blaster flying from his hand. She replaced it with a small red data disk, which began to pulse with a red glow.

“Bertoll Estan Pandoli, you are hereby served with a Notice of Intent to Audit by the Republic Revenue Service. I am Taduay Bennas Osae, authorized agent of the Special Tax and Audit Division, and it is my duty to inform you that your acknowledgement has just been sent to our local office, and your assigned audit team will be here within 3 hours, accompanied by Republic Protection Officers. Your businesses and assets have been frozen for the duration of this process. Thank you in advance for your cooperation. The Service looks forward to a long, fruitful relationship with good citizen and taxpayer like yourself.” Benni switched off the holocamera disguised as an energy-cell case on her left shoulder, and opened a comlink channel. “Service has been completed. Put away your toys and head for home, kids”.

Burty swore and dove for his weapon, his face meeting Benni’s boot on the way. She grabbed his lapels and hauled the stunned crime lord halfway up. “I suggest, sir, that you use the next three hours assembling your accountants and preparing a nice workspace for your hardworking RRS auditors. You might also make up a nice neat list of any of your associates you think the Service might want to visit. Helping us is the best way to help yourself.” She shoved him back, stepped around his struggling body, kicked the gun down the corridor well out of his reach, and left.

Out in the main room, the leggy blond delivered a final devastating kick to a particularly sensitive area of a bodyguard’s anatomy, aided by a security guard who dropped another with a bottle of horrendously expensive liquor delivered upside the head, while the red-haired bartender started to trigger his final explosives. Each headed for a predetermined exit, applying elbows and knees as required.

“ …certain special interests were able to force a law though the Senate requiring that a Notice of Intent to Audit be personally served to an individual or entity before an RRS Audit could take place. This misguided law served to protect the most powerful tax evaders who could isolate and protect themselves from being approached by an authorized Service Representative…This state of affairs prompted a more aggressive and creative approach to Service with regard to these powerful scofflaws.”

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Benni went aft to the ships common area, tossing a small squeeze tube of bacta to Maru who was slumped naked in her seat scowling at a long shallow burn on

“Get something on that leg and finish up your reports,” Benni said. “District wants everything on file with Legal before the audit team shows up at Fat Burty’s”.

Benni shrugged. “As long as your hand is still attached to your arm, you gotta do a Pre-emptive Deposition same as everyone else. Be thankful you didn’t kill anyone this time so you won’t have to do a Collateral Damage report on top of everything else”

Switch came to lean over the back of Maru’s chair. “Anything I can do to help? That looks like it requires immediate attention.” The wiry red-head leered cheerfully at her, apparently undaunted by the fact that she topped him by half a head and had a punch that could lay out a Gundark. “And that burn probably needs some help too.”

“Sure, I’ll let you play med tech if you fill out my AS-40L for me”. Maru tossed the bacta over her shoulder to Switch, and draped her leg over the arm of the chair.

Benni shook her head. “Uh-uh, honey. You know the rules. Everyone does their own forms. You want to play slapbelly with Switch, you do it after deadline is met”. Benni tapped her console and glared impatiently. “And Switch, I catch you doing any more of her work, I swear I’m going to start cutting off fingers.”

Maru snatched the bacta out of Switch’s hand and gave him an impatient shove. “Here, get lost. Better that I be scarred for life than risk missing a form deadline.” She slopped the bacta over her wound, tossed the empty tube on the table, and limped theatrically over to the blinking screen currently displaying her half-finished PD form. Switch shrugged and flopped into the chair abandoned by Maru, admiring her limp.

Benni popped open a drink and tossed half of it back. “Heh. We’d all benefit by you being scarred for life. See, you get a few more scars, you start wearing a few more clothes, Switch gets some blood actually up to his brain, and I get a more efficient team. Cause and effect. Besides, scars add character.” Benni had never minded her own scars, most of which were old enough to be little more that faint pinkish lines. They were her history, reminders not to make the same mistakes twice, and besides, she’d never noticed anyone jump out of bed and run screaming at the sight of them.

“Scars are fine for some people. Some people have never bothered to worry about how they look.” Maru muttered over her keyboard.

“Some people don’t spend half their pay on body mods and cosmetics,” remarked Tyvann, who had entered in time to overhear the last. “And some other people are happy to wear the same nasty, ratty coat for 15 years”. This last was aimed at Benni, whose total lack of fashion sense was a source of constant nagging by Ty, who never wore the same clothes twice, and Maru, who scarcely bothered with clothes at all.

“And some people don’t know when it’s bad policy to make disparaging comments about the boss’s wardrobe.” Benni pulled the oversized brown coat around her protectively. “Besides, this coat has years of good wear left in it. Why do you always pick on it?”

“You’re just jealous. You can’t stand it that I look so cute and waiflike in this.” Benni stood up and twirled, the coat flapping around her ankles. “Like an adorable street urchin.” Her short stature, along with short dark brown hair, medium brown skin, light brown eyes, and features with more character than classic beauty made it hard to guess her age, and she had managed to disguise herself a couple times as a teenage boy.

“Yeah? Well that’s okay. Gives Maru something that she can feel superior about. Otherwise she’d probably implode.”

“Hey, keep it down. Some of us are trying to work here,” Maru snapped, at 19 too young and insecure to stand much teasing.

“Aren’t you done with that form yet? We could die of old age before you finish.” A beeping tone came from Benni’s console. “ Aww, now look, District is calling. Give me a time frame, at least.” Benni hesitated, then slammed in her access codes when Maru gave no reply other than a grunt. “Okay, they want them now. Maru?”

There was a moment of silence while Benni scanned the documents, shaking her head in disgust at the appalling spelling and grammatical errors. “How the hell did you get through a whole year of basic? Oh well, better to send them in screwed up than not at all. But you need some serious remedial training. Ty, you need the practice if you’re gonna take over the team. You see to it. Spank her, lock her in her room, take away her credit disc, mess up her hair, whatever you need to do”

Switch looked up. “Ty’s taking over? Then your promotion’s confirmed?” he asked, suddenly a little apprehensive. It was a sign of his concern that he overlooked the spanking comment. After nearly 15 years of field service, it was assumed that Benni would be bumped to District Deputy Commissioner, but he had trouble imagining the team without her.

Benni was practically a legend in the Service, for length and type of Service as well as for the number of original body parts she retained (nearly all of them, and who really counts a spleen anyway). Her particular team, only one of five teams handling high-risk Serves, experienced just one failure to complete delivery in the years since she had become Leader, and that had not really been her fault. Sometimes a Team Member just goes off their head, picks up a proscribed weapon, and starts shooting. Several corporations, at least one planetary government, and a couple major bogus religions, not to mention a slew of criminal cartels similar to Fat Burty’s had been infiltrated and Served by Benni, netting enormous gains to the RRS. It was almost unthinkable that she would be moved out of fieldwork and into an office.

“I’ve gotten enough broad hints. Another one or two Serves, my 15-year anniversary hits, and my reward is spending the rest of my life deciphering the paperwork you lower life forms send in. Guess District wants me out of the field before I get old and cranky”.

“Wow, they missed the boat on that one. Shoulda had you out years ago.” Switch ducked to avoid the cup thrown at his head. Benni at 32 was old for a field op, and some days felt twice the age. Other days she felt and looked hardly older than Ty’s 25. Either way, she didn’t like being reminded of her advanced years.

Benni tapped a screen to access the updated assignment list sent out by the District office. “Huh. That’s sort of weird. Only two left in here. One’s a small mining outfit, the other’s an individual.”

Ty frowned. “Just a single person? When’s the last time we got one of those?”

“No political or corporate affiliations? Some old-money aristocrat maybe?” Maru

“Nothing like that at all. Just this one guy, some Zabrak. Huh. Don’t see many of them around. One guy. It’s practically an insult”. She scanned the uncharacteristically scanty file looking for a reason her team would get an assignment like this one.

“Maybe it’s a sort of gift, you know, to make your last couple Serves easy. That way District can make a big fuss over your record at the retirement party” Switch suggested.

“Yeah, maybe. Everybody knows District loves making my life easy. Anyhow, since you, my children, are all due for some required time off, and there’s not a reason in the galaxy to take a full team on this little outing, somebody lay in a course for the nearest Company leisure center. I’m dropping you off while I knock this one off solo. That way, we’re all rested and ready to do a nice, by-the-book job on our little mining outfit. Ty, why don’t you take the file and start the mission plan in your spare time? I figure this single should take me 7, maybe 10 days at the outside.”

Ty looked doubtful. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go along as backup, just in case?”

Benni shook her head. “Naw, I got a good feeling about this. One guy, plenty of trace leads, no worries. Trust me. This one will be a walk in the park.”

Excerpt from the RRS Employee Manual: Team Leader Duties and Responsibilities:

“It is the responsibility of the Team Leader to plan and execute Service assignments as issued to their individual teams, including allocation of resources, and training and management of all team personnel…for this reason, any Failure to Complete Service shall be considered to be the sole responsibility of the Team Leader.”

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15 days later, Benni was starting to feel distinctly annoyed. None of the trace leads had shown any sign of panning out and no additional ones had come to light in any of the inter-agency databases she had checked. The guy was a total cipher. She was beginning to suspect that she might be the victim of a practical joke.

She had decided to follow the last thin lead just to say she covered all the bases, and then call it quits. District could hand this off to someone else and best of luck to them. That last lead was a real long shot, taking her out here to Podunc, a minor system among a lot of other minor systems, all of them remarkable for precisely nothing. As near as she could tell, the only interesting thing that had happened out this way in the last 500 years was a recent attempt by a Podunc politico to get all these little nowhere worlds speaking with a single voice (his, by an amazing coincidence) and pull out of the Republic. Secession came up frequently these days, as near as Benni could tell or cared. Politics had little interest for her, and politicians were to be avoided unless they were being Served.

So here she was, in front of the Podunc Customs counter while the agent looked her up and down, clearly unimpressed.

Benni smiled and shrugged. “Oh, I’m just here to enjoy myself for a few days.” She spread her arms and slapped the sleeves of her coat against her sides, raising a little dust.

Another shrug. “I expect I’ll find something. I like to play these little jaunts kinda, you know, by ear.”

“If you’re going to be here less than ten days, I have to impound your Identity disc. Good luck trying to get a job here without one. We find you after ten days with no disc, I get to deport you.” Finally the agent smiled. “Get it?”

Benni, eyes big, nodded slowly. “Gosh, I guess so. Wouldn’t want to cause any trouble.” She reached into a pocket for the little wallet that held her disc and placed it on the counter in front of the agent.

The agent picked it up as if it might be contaminated. “Now let’s see who you really are…” His eyes widened slightly, and the color drained from his face. “Republic Revenue Service? You’re-you’re an auditor?”

Benni appeared shocked. “Me? No. Auditors are big guys in black suits and they never smile. Not like this.” Bennie smiled a big feral grin, showing lots of teeth. “I just serve the notice to people. Then they meet the auditors. Sometimes I’m the last smiling person they ever see.” She leaned forward to peer at the badge on the agent. “And you’re…” she read the badge “Mikha Olawee. That’s right, isn’t it? Olawee?”

“Wonderful. Well, don’t lose that ID of mine. It’s been wonderful to meet you and I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again before too long, Mikha. Nice name. Mikha.“

A couple hours later, the mild amusement that encounter long faded, she was in a ‘port tavern, sipping a hot local drink, neither alcoholic nor narcotic, more’s the pity, but time for that later, and wishing she hadn’t arrived during the cold season. Her own home had been mostly tropical, and Benni had never learned to like cold weather. Well, I’ll be out soon enough, she thought. There’s hardly enough money on the whole planet to justify an audit, let alone in the possession of one lone guy who probably doesn’t exist.

Benni hunched into her coat and went out into the sleety evening to go through the motions of a final search. A quick hack into the spaceport records showed no indication that anyone remotely resembling her target had been in or out in the last several months. Podunc only had the one ‘port, just outside the capital city, and all interworld traffic (what little there was) should have been routed through there. Discrete inquiries at the larger bars and clubs in the ‘port district turned up nothing, and frankly, anyone matching the physical description she had on the target would have stood out even in a much bigger, more diverse place than this.

On a whim, she decided to take a stroll around the capitol complex before heading back to the ship and getting off this frigid rock. Benni tended to trust her hunches, which had turned out to lead her in the right direction a surprising number of times. Years back when she was still doing safe, easy serves for the Judicial service, she would often take a seemingly random walk in the general area her mark was expected and run smack into them. The complex was a good place to troll, as anyone with money, legitimately obtained or not, apparently lived in or around that area.

The sleet was coming down more heavily by the time she exited the cab and started a perimeter stroll. Plenty of lights were on in the gated complex and around the larger houses, but only a few streets over, things dimmed down and the houses and warehouses were much poorer and darker. The worsening weather had the streets nearly deserted now, and Benni’s face ached from the cold. “Blow this” she muttered to herself, and turned back toward the complex to catch a cab back to the ‘port, back to her well-heated ship.

She had only gone a few steps before she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and froze. A figure, not much more than a slightly darker bit of shadow among all the rest, moved near one of the infrequent pools of light. For a split second, part of the figure’s face was lit before dropping back into shadow. A split second was enough to convince Benni that against expectation, she had found her mark. Hot damn, another winning hunch.

Keeping her eye on him, afraid to lose him in the shadows, Benni did a quick check of her equipment. Holocam, Notice disc, weapons (only a couple knives this trip – customs was pretty sticky about weapons, but the knives were easy to slip through the shoddy security). The rest would be simple – approach, casual indirect questions, name and acknowledgement, and the Serve. This was where looking small and non-threatening really paid off. She started to walk toward him, but half a dozen paces away she slipped slightly on the icy walkway and glanced down to regain her footing. Looking back up instantly, the good-natured remark about her own clumsiness designed to put him at ease died on her lips. The street was deserted. Damn! Where the hell did he go?

She forced herself back to a casual stroll, moving in the most likely direction, keeping watch with her peripheral vision. I really must be getting old, she thought. I would never have lost a target like this a couple years ago. The stinging ice in the air wasn’t helping her vision, but having located him once, knowing he was nearby, she’d be damned if she was going to give up and go back now.

She turned the corner and slid back into a doorway, out of the wind and hopefully out of sight. He had been aimed in this direction; she might still have a chance of spotting him. There! That patch of shadow moving toward the complex. Guessing she would have a better chance of arranging an approach on a well-lit street, Benni followed at a distance, this time determined not to look away. The shadow figure paused halfway up the street, then turned left, disappearing into an alley.

Benni remembered passing that alley – a blind one between two small warehouses. She slowed. Had he seen her? Was his intention to hide or ambush? Or hell, maybe he was just draining off some of the local beer. That’s what blind alleys seemed to get used for, judging by the smell. She hesitated, then walked casually by the entrance. No movement. Okay, the mark’s figured it out – time to get aggressive. She turned and walked into the alley, intending a direct confrontation with possible threat. It was empty.

Benni stood a couple paces in, studying the sheer walls that rose a good 12 meters on two sides, and at least 9 meters on the third. No place to hide, no doorways. She stepped in a little farther and slumped against a wall, thinking. I’m sure he went in, so how the hell did he get out with my seeing him? Is the cold slowing my brain? She slapped the wall with frustration and turned to exit the alley. She had not completed the first step before her eye caught the movement, far too late to do anything about it. A shadow loomed out of the night, and she had no time to do anymore than think “Well, shi….” before she was slammed up against the wall, smacking the back of her head hard, switching consciousness off like a light.

All Field Service Operatives are fully covered for medical expenses for injuries received in the course of Service, including transplants, reconstructive techniques, and cybernetic prosthetics. Additional medical and health insurance is available at a reduced cost to employees after six months of active Service. Accidental Death claims will no longer be allowed, and Additional Life Insurance is not available to field service operatives until a new underwriter can be engaged……

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The pain in her head and excessive cold everywhere else pulled Benni reluctantly out of warm oblivion. The part of her brain devoted to spotting danger was frantically kicking the part devoted to going back to sleep and ignoring reality, screaming “wake up you dumb bitch! You’re not dead yet!”

Before she opened her eyes, she knew she was not alone. She also knew she was without boots, gloves, coat, and weapons, left only in her wholly inadequate shipsuit. But hey, with this nice frozen floor she was laying on, what more did she need? And at least she seemed to be free of constraints. She groaned involuntarily, opened her eyes, and began the process of pulling herself upright. Then she wished she hadn’t. No concussion at least, but damn.

She was in a small, bare steelcrete room, probably in a warehouse of some sort. The only illumination came from a small emergency light set high up the wall and what little moonlight came in through a skylight. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she focused on the figure sitting motionless on the floor a few feet away, stripped to the waist. She could swear she saw a faint steam rising off his body. “It must be hypothermia killing off my brain cells” she thought to herself, but then again, maybe not. He certainly didn’t seem to be bothered by the cold. She, on the other hand, could see her own breath, and her hands and feet were going numb.

Her captor seemed to suddenly notice her, coming back from whatever place he had been contemplating, tattoos glowing luridly in the dim light. Benni froze in a defensive crouch, then slowly stood when he made no other movement. She was debating a move toward the only door when a soft, insinuating voice spoke.

There was no reason not to come clean at this point, the Serve clearly being a non-option, but perversity and damaged pride made Benni answer “Your mother. She wants to know if you’ll be home for dinner.”

The next instant she was slammed against the wall with an open-handed slap that rocked her head back and split open her bottom lip. She was shocked. She expected attack, but she also expected to see it coming. He stood now, just out of reach, and in the same cool, emotionless tone said “You will answer my questions politely and truthfully”.

Rage boiled up in Benni. “The hell I will” she said. Adrenaline chased the cold and pain away as she moved to take him out, futile as it seemed to even her foggy mind. She was a good fighter by all accounts, and had plenty of experience subduing larger, stronger opponents. She had always considered herself fast, but she couldn’t land a hand, foot, knee or elbow on her opponent. He didn’t even bother to fight back, he simply wasn’t there whenever she struck. It seemed he wasn’t so much playing with her as just waiting for her to get it out of her system.

Benni paused, deeply frustrated, fully awake now, and realizing with considerable chagrin that 15 years of Service conditioning had come to the forefront, and she had been trying to disable rather than kill him. Mistake. She called up old combat reflexes from her teens and waded back in, this time aiming for a kill. That approach was equally unsuccessful but at least seemed to get his attention, because a scant handful of seconds later she found herself neatly immobilized, back to the wall, his body suddenly pressed against hers, thighs pinning thighs, one arm pinning her arms painfully over her head. She made one last attempt to break his nose with a head-butt, but found a hand around her throat. Okay, time to stop and regroup.

There was a moment of silence. Shit, he hadn’t even broken a sweat. She, on the other hand, was drenched and out of breath. She was also aware that some of the sweat was flop sweat, a reaction to the first real sense of fear she had felt in a very long time. After a long moment he spoke again.

Benni shut her eyes for a moment. Telling a target (hah! target my ass) the truth was usually reserved for after the Serve, but adaptability was a valuable survival trait.

“I’m an authorized representative of the Republic Revenue Service. Your name came up for audit”. For the first time in her career, she felt a little stupid for saying that. “I, uh, get my assignments from the District office.”

Benni attempted to shift slightly, but he was immobile as a rock. She’d have better luck moving the steelcrete wall at her back

“All kinds of places.” She looked him full in the face for the first time, then looked away again quickly. Eyes shouldn’t burn like that. “Sometimes they come from recent associates, someone with a grudge. Sometimes judicials put out a call. Sometimes the computer just pulls up a random name, although I don’t usually get any of those.”

“You are merely a process server?” he asked, his voice colored with contempt and slightly incredulous.

Benni bristled. “Special Services. We don’t chase little guys. We go after corporations, guilds, governments, religions, crime cartels. We take on private armies”.

Insulted, Benni bit back an indignant response. It seemed a little absurd to claim to be the best under the present circumstances. “Relatively good” she said cautiously. “At least, by RRS standards. I’ve only had one fail in almost 15 years.” Two now, she amended to herself, feeling more relaxed than she had a right to be. Most of her was comfortably warm now. In fact, certain parts were getting a bit too warm. Casual opportunistic sex was pretty common after the tension of a difficult Serve, and her body was responding automatically to the drain of adrenaline with a hyperawareness of the closeness of another half-clad body. A damn fine one at that. Shit. Not the right time or place. Or the right person, for that matter. Focus, Benni, focus. She attempted unsuccessfully to shift again. The Voice spoke again.

“I got them from District office. Where they originated is anyone’s guess. Sometimes they come from known sources, sometimes reliable anonymous sources.”

“You got me. Somebody high up must know the source, I guess. The name just never gets into the official record if it’s a really important one ”

The mind occupying the Body pressed against hers seemed to be considering this information. Benni decided to risk a question of her own.

“Something like that” came that faintly amused response. “And this , I think, is probably a training exercise”.

The words hit Benni like a glass of ice water in the face. “Excuse me? A training exercise? Who the hell thinks I need a training exercise?

Benni felt another rush of rage welling up. Without thinking, she bunched her muscles and pushed against her captor. He obligingly released her and stepped back, quickly enough that she almost fell.

“Are you telling me that I’ve been set up? Someone sent my team after a professional killer without telling me what I’m up against?”

“I didn’t bring them. Just one guy, seemed like overkill to bring a whole team” Too late, Benni realized that it might have been better to let him think there was more than just herself here. Focus, focus, dammit. Avoid the distractions. Great, and now she was getting cold again. What was it about this guy that compelled the truth from her?

“I came by myself. My bad judgment call. Damn. Damn.” She noticed an unpleasant smile on her captors face. “Oh sure, fine for you to laugh. You’re the one who’s walking out of here on your own two legs.” Spoken aloud, Benni realized with a slight shock that she had already accepted the likelihood of her own imminent death. “Unless you’d like to tell me who you think set this up and let me out so I can go chase their ass down? Nope, didn’t think so.” She paced the floor. If she was going to die, why couldn’t it be someplace warm and comfortable? And for preference, 50 years from now? The warmth from the fight and his body was gone, and she found herself beginning to shiver uncontrollably.

“You traced me to this world with these leads. Once here, how were you able to locate me?”

“Just a talent, I guess. I can find people, if I sort of know the general vicinity to find them. I get a hunch, I follow it, and more often than not, I run right into them. It’s why I got in the service at all. Easy money while I went to school.”

“A valuable talent. I wonder that it has never been developed so far and no further. You are not a native of a Republic world, then.”

Benni was puzzled by the question, but hell, the longer he wanted to chat, the longer she stayed alive. “No, Omiam’s way out on the rim. Just another little nowhere planet having another little civil war. I didn’t get to the Republic ‘til I was almost 15.

“When I was a kid, scouting & scrounging for my little partisan group. I got good at finding the enemy and their supplies.”

“I see.” The Voice seemed to lose interest in the subject, and after a pause said “Your service, it does not as a rule involve killing”, making it statement rather than a question.

Benni stood still, hugging her body for warmth. “No, killing is strongly discouraged. Kill the subject of an audit and the estate can be tied up for years. No money in that. And property destruction incurred during the course of a Serve, including killing private security, is considered 100 percent deductible. Disable, but don’t kill unless n-necessary. Saves m-money’. Great, now her teeth were chattering. She was aware of the danger of hypothermia and figured it was settling in. She knew her mind was not at in top form, but was unable to do anything about it.

“Ah. So it is your habit to apply no more force than that necessary to achieve your goal.” The Voice seemed to be considering this.

“So, with the injunction to use less than lethal force, you were dispatched to find and … serve me.”

“That was the idea”. Benni felt her mind becoming more remote. The cold would take care of her pretty soon, even if he didn’t.

“It follows then that the point of this exercise may in fact be proper application of minimum force to achieve the desired result.” The Voice sounded thoughtful now.

“Whatever.” Benni pulled her mind together for a moment. “Oh hell, you know, just kill me or whatever and get it over with. I’ve had a good run. I’ve been beating the odds for 20 years now. What the hell would I do with a desk job anyway.” She sank to her knees, shivering uncontrollably now.

She was aware of movement behind her. He knelt behind her, wrapping arms around her and pressing himself against her back, his hands holding her wrists. Gods, the guy was a damn blast furnace. Didn’t the cold affect him at all? Benni was way beyond objecting, kneeling quiescent and absorbing the warmth of his body while her mind hummed and floated. The Voice spoke softly in her ear.

“Why do you do waste your skills on this service? What do you get out of it?”

“They’re tax evaders. They don’t do their part. I do it to bring them to justice.”

“Yeah, it’s a lie. Why not? Lying is what I do. It’s my job. I lie, I deceive, I obfuscate. I do whatever I have to in order to reach the target.”

Benni paused. This was the sort of question she was asked in annual retraining. This was the sort of thing she had always lied about, even to herself, because the truth would get her fired. She suddenly became aware that one of the Voice’s hands had left her wrist was unfastening the front of her ship suit. She felt herself warming again, in spite of the iciness reaching up through her knees from the floor.

A warm hand slid inside her shipsuit, brushing her ribs and cupping one breast, squeezing it lightly. She let lose a slow hissing breath.

“What do you like about it?” the Voice repeated, with a little more urgency.

“I like the power. I like the look on their faces when I tell them who I am” Benni blurted out breathlessly. The hand moved caressingly over to the other breast, warming it as well. “ Most of these smug bastards have never seen anything scarier than me. I like that.” She caught her breath as the hand moved slowly over her ribs and down to her belly, the fingers tracing the line of a 20-year old scar. “Anyone who comes in later, auditors, judicials, hell, even Jedi, they’re just continuing what I started, what I made happen. Their life is over, and they know it. I can see it in their eyes. All because of me.” In 15 years of service, she had never confessed that to anyone; indeed, she had hardly admitted it to herself.

The Voice was soft now, barely a whisper in her ear. “Good. To enjoy power is right and proper. But you have killed as well. Before you became an agent of the RRS. I sense it.” The body behind her was tense now, and the heat poured off him like a small sun. Benni was sweating again, and now it had little to do with fear or exertion. The Hand continued its southerly course.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ve done my bit.” Benni was starting to shake again, not with cold this time. Her captor released her wrist, freeing his other hand to pull Benni’s sweat-soaked shipsuit off her shoulders. “Long time ago, back home.” It was getting hard to concentrate.

“Tell me. Tell me of your first kill.” The Voice in her ear whispered. The Body shifted, and Benni was suddenly sharply aware of the hard erection pressing against the back of her left thigh.

“I was eleven. It was the wars, you know. We all joined the partisans, any of the kids who lost their families”. Benni’s voice was a quick, breathy whisper now. The Hands had moved around to stroke and cup her buttocks, lifting her slightly, parting her legs, then moving to caress her inner thighs. She caught her breath, and pressed slightly backwards, unable to continue for a moment.

“Tell me”. The Voice was an insistent hiss, now, fingers pressing almost painfully into her thighs. “Describe it.”

Benni cast as much as her mind as was still available to her back 20 years. “It was a few weeks into the civil war. I had to go foraging, for weapons and food. I only had a knife because guns were scarce.” She stopped again, panting, as the Hand had moved up her thigh to slide a couple fingers inside her. After a breathless moment she continued. “I ran across a small patrol, just four guys with a transport, a couple kilometers behind enemy lines. I followed them until they stopped, and when one of them went off to piss behind a tree, I decided to see if I could kill him to get his gun.”

“You took him out while he was answering a call of nature?” the Voice, breath warm and fragrant now across her cheek sounded amused, as well as slightly breathless.

Benni started to answer, but was surprised as he suddenly shifted and entered her unexpectedly. She drew a sharp sobbing breath, involuntarily arching against him. Arms like steel bands pulled her back, arresting her movements.

“Ah. Ah, yeah, well, he, uh, was a lot taller than me” Benni whispered, trying to think while her body went merrily on with it’s own agenda. “Um, I surprised him, but I didn’t really know what I was doing. Oh gods.” The Body had begun to move, and she matched her rhythms to his without thought. “It took three tries, see. I guess I was lucky, lucky, yeah, because the first one got his windpipe so he couldn’t yell. It took two more cuts to finish him. Damn, it was a bad job. Really amateurish. I, I, I got better later. Oh. Oh gods.”

“I guess, I guess, embarrassed. ‘Cause I screwed it up so bad. But hell, he was the enemy, you know? I didn’t, didn’t feel, you know, ah, upset. He, um, um, woulda killed me if he could. Ah, please.”

The question did not register, Benni’s attention being now wholly taken up with the intensity of her orgasm, like a star gone nova between her legs, heating her from her eyes to the suddenly sensitive soles of her feet. She bit her arm, screaming release silently as her body convulsed again and again. She was dimly aware of the sudden stiffening of the Body behind her, the sharp intake of breath, his slight collapse across her back. And then, it was over except for the sound of two sets of lungs gasping for breath.

Benni thought well, at least I’m warm now. And the gods know, there are certainly worse ways to die than this.

Failure to complete an assignment will result in the immediate suspension of duties for a Team Leader until such time as cause for said failure is determined to the satisfaction of the employee’s District Commissioner … should the Team Leader be deemed to be at fault, the Commissioner will determine the disciplinary action to take, which may include retraining, demotion, leave without pay, or termination of employment.

********************************************************************

Benni awakened suddenly with a sharp headache, wrapped in her old brown coat and with mild sense of surprise to be waking up at all. Cold gray morning light filtered in through the skylight, illuminating the icy room well enough to confirm that she was alone, her missing belongings on the floor next to her. She sat up gingerly, pulling the coat around herself, and checked one of the inner pockets for her med supplies. Still there, good. She inhaled a mister of adrenaline, clearing her groggy mind instantly and allowing the full range of bruises, sore muscles, and achy joints to make themselves felt. She groaned and quickly swallowed a double dose of analgesic.

Best to avoid thinking about the events of the last few hours for a bit – there would be all too much time for that later. She refastened her clothing, pulled on her boots and gloves, pocketed her damaged holocam and the pieces of the shattered Notice disk, and started to put the two small knives back into their concealed sheathes, hesitating when she saw the stains on one of them. Blood? For a confused moment she wondered if it was her own, then shook her head impatiently and put it away. Just one more matter to deal with later.

Sending a quick prayer to anyone who was listening, she tried the door, which slid open easily. It was early enough that there were few people out on the street, none of whom seemed the least interested in her. There seemed to be a lot of air activity up toward the capitol complex, so she headed the other way, walking a couple kilometers before finally getting a cab to take her back to the ‘port.

After grabbing a hot drink and wolfing down some sort of local meat-filled pastry from a street vendor, Benni went to the customs kiosk to get her exit forms in order. The officer was distracted by the news on the ‘net and took longer than usual. Benni glanced impatiently at the screen – it had something to do with a major local politician’s assassination. The one who had been making all the noise about secession. Hardly news at all in her opinion. Politicals always seemed to be killing each other off out here in the provinces. However, the next statement by the law enforcement representative to the interviewer nearly made her choke on her drink.

“….because there was no sign of any intruder and the amateur nature of the killing, we are investigating the possibility that this was an inside job, something with a personal rather than a political motive.”

“When you say amateur nature of the killing, can you be a little more specific?” The interviewer asked, avid for the details she knew her listeners were waiting for.

“I can only say that his throat was cut, very inefficiently, more than once. Probably by someone who has never held a knife before. As soon as we turn up the murder weapon….”

Benni stopped listening. Years of professional cool allowed her to smile, answer the officer’s questions, and get her ship off planet and into hyperspace. It was more than an hour later that she finally threw off her coat and pulled the two knives out of their sheaths, and went to the garbage chute. She stared at the stained knife for a moment, and said to herself “Shit. Some women get flowers the morning after” before dumping them. She thought longingly of a shower, but first things first. Sitting at her console, she sighed, and pulled up RRS form 45D-1105 “Failure to Complete Service of Notice of Audit”. “Now, lets see if I can remember how to fill one of these out,” she muttered, shifting slightly in her seat and deciding that she was really too young for a promotion anyway.

A Walk In The Park

by Darth Krispies