The Man without Qualities

Vette lay on the couch next to the holoterminal. She yawned as she read the latest gossip from the holonet; and sighed before she put her data pad down. One brief look on her holocommunicator told her that she hadn't gotten any messages. She briefly wondered how long Azma's mission on Hoth would take – she had left the Fury two days ago with Pierce, Broonmark and Jaesa and hadn't reported back in. It was the third or fourth time Azma and her crew had visited the ice planet, as usual she and Quinn hadn't been keen on accompanying Azma to this frozen rock. Vette also checked her data pad for messages from her sister Tivva; but there were none.

She sighed again and got up into a sitting position. Her joints creaked as Vette rose to her feet. She shuffled to her bunk in the crew quarters and grabbed a holo-novel from her pile of data pads. It was an old detective story and soon she had lost herself into the adventures of a hard-boiled private investigator on Nar Shaddaa.

"Vette?"

She lowered her data pad just enough to peek enough over the frame to see Quinn's contrite face.

"Yeah?"

Vette had rarely spoken with the man – he was a workaholic who didn't socialise much with the crew. It surprised her that he would seek her out, unless…

Alarmed she jumped on her feet. "Did something happen to Azma?"

"Calm down, Lord Azma isn't in danger," he answered and crossed his arms. Then he clasped his hands behind his back and cleared his throat. "I received a distress call from Cato Neimoidia and… it is my duty to answer a distress call from a fellow imperial officer. I got permission from our Lord to start a rescue mission and wanted to inform you that we will depart shortly."

"We?"

"Of course, as Lord Azma's second-in-command I expect you to follow my orders in her absence." He paused for a moment. "Even though you aren't wired for military precision I trust that you will fulfil your task satisfactory."

Vette rolled her eyes. "Geez, thanks for your vote of confidence." She sat down, and then she stood up again and put her hands on her hips. "Wait a moment, did Azma say that I have to help you with his mission?"

Quinn remained perfectly calm. "No, she didn't. That's why I said…"

"So, you need my help?" Vette gave him an archly smile. "And since I'm not 'wired for military precision' and not even a soldier I'm under no obligation to follow your orders. Ask me nicely and I will think about it."

He shot her an angry look and its intensity surprised her; Quinn was usually very balanced and rarely showed any emotions and to see him getting irked made Vette insecure for a moment, but then she caught herself and grinned at him. "Well?"

"This is not a game! Imperial lives are at stake!" Quinn spat. "But if you insist: Please accompany me on this mission."

Vette suddenly felt bad for pulling his leg. But she had no intention to show Quinn that she felt that way. "Okay, I'm in, Capt'n!"

"Thank you," he replied in a calmer voice. "We will arrive in about eight hours; I will brief you before we land." Quinn turned on his heel and left the crew quarters.

Vette lay down and continued her reading, but she couldn't focus on the plot anymore. She felt uneasy.

"This is the blueprint of a vault on Cato Neimoidia where Major Ovech and his men are under attack," said Quinn and displayed a holographic projection of the building. "The probability that they could hold off the ambushers for eight hours is – according to my calculations – less than two percent."

Vette leaned on the projector and stared at the blueprint. "So we would likely be looking for detention cells?"

"Correct, we will infiltrate the building and hack into its systems while trying to reach the last known location of our troops."

"Your troops, you mean?" asked Vette quietly.

Quinn hesitated. "Uh, yes. Since Major Ovech was lured into an ambush by hutt forces I expect that sloppy-trained mercenaries will be our opponents."

"Why on earth were imperials even in a hutt's vault? I mean getting between a hutt and his treasure is generally a pretty bad idea."

Quinn shut the holo-projector down. "I gathered that they were supposed to make a deal with said hutt."

"Do you know the hutt's name?"

He shot her a quizzical glare. "Fa'athra; why do you ask?"

Vette pinched her nose. "Ugh, that's bad. I know most hutts by reputation and I had hoped that we would deal with a stingy one. But Fa'athra isn't one to buy cheap and sloppy mercenaries. In fact he is known in the underworld to rely rather on strength than on credits."

"That's valuable intel, Vette," Quinn said stiffly. "You have clearly more experience with hutts than I and I apologize for not consulting with you earlier."

Vette was taken aback by the awkward way Quinn apologized to her. She scratched her head. "Uh, yeah… I guess I'm the hutt-expert on this ship. Be sure to call on my deep knowledge on overgrown slugs the next time we have to take on a whole hutt army without sith-y support."

"Indeed," replied Quinn and glanced at his chronometer. "We will arrive in an hour. Tovee will drop us at the spaceport and will fly the Fury in safe distance. We should try to blend in with the crowd that usually inhabits the planet."

"Since we can't possibly pose as nemoidians, I guess you mean that we dress up as thieves and mercenaries?"

Quinn's right eyebrow rose. "I thought more along the lines of merchants."

Vette rubbed her chin. "Come to think about it – you could never pose as scum; your uptight attitude would give you away the moment you opened your mouth."

"If you are referring to my discipline…" Quinn protested.

"Nope, you are so lordly that you could only act like a wealthy businessman, I guess I could be your hard-ass bodyguard."

"Bodyguard? You are about 10 centimetres smaller than me, nobody would believe that," retorted Quinn arrogantly.

Vette anticipated what would come next and stepped so close to Quinn that their faces were but centimetres away from each other. "Don't you dare! Don't you dare to even suggest that I would pose as slave!" she hissed.

"But it would be plausible," said Quinn without flinching.

"You don't know shit about me! I even worked as a hired assassin once – do you hear me? I can play a hard-ass mercenary because I AM ONE!" Only in the end Vette registered that she was yelling at Quinn. She took a step back and forced herself to smile. "See? I can be very persuasive."

"Alright," Quinn straightened his coat. "I see that this is non-negotiable."

The moment they left the spaceport on Cato Neimoidia Vette almost regretted that she had put on heavy armour; the humid forest air made her sweat instantly. She scanned the vicinity – partly because it belonged to her act and partly because she had never seen anything like the bridge-cities of this planet: enormous constructions between mountains, hanging in the air. The jungle that generated the atmosphere was only visible on the ground and on the mountain sides – the cities themselves consisted of densely built grey skyscrapers. On the horizon she saw dozens of bridge-cities; colourful exotic birds flew through the street canyons and gave the whole scenario an unreal element.

Quinn stepped next to her, although he wore a light tunic with silver ornamentations there was also a thin film of sweat visible on his face. He also took a moment to take the scenery in and turned then to Vette. "Let's get on with our business."

Two shuttle rides later they stood in front of the vault. It was a skyscraper in the middle of the city; two heavily armed guards stood outside. Quinn approached them.

"I have an appointment with the director; my name is Marlowe."

The guards, tall gomorrians, snorted and one of them checked his data pad. Vette didn't miss the derogative glance she received from the other one. She stared at him until he looked the other way.

After a few seconds the guard nodded and pushed a button to open the door. Vette and Quinn entered the building.

"How did you get an appointment?" Vette whispered.

"I called in a favour with Imperial Intelligence – they created a fake account with several million credits. I assumed that this amount of money would get me a meeting with the director."

They were walking in a long corridor towards the lifts. The floor and the ceiling were made from durasteel; a thick red carpet was dampening their steps. Vette registered that there were cameras who followed their every movements. Finally they reached the elevators and stepped inside.

"You could have told me!" Vette said. "We are in this together." She was irritated.

"I wasn't aware that you would be interested in operational details," said Quinn quietly.

Vette took a deep breath and didn't answer – now was not the time to debate Quinn's questionable information policy.

After a few moments the elevator doors opened and a grinning nemoidian in a magnificent dress was standing in front of them.

"Mister Marlowe! What a pleasure to make your acquaintance!"

"Ah, director… how good of you to greet me in person," replied Quinn stiffly.

Vette almost rolled her eyes, Quinn's spruce accent and his posture literally screamed 'Imperial Officer' but it seemed that the nemoidian didn't register it.

"This way…"

They followed the director into his office; they passed several guards until they reached the luxurious room with a breath-taking view of the bridge-city.

"May I ask that your bodyguard stays outside while we discuss business?" inquired the director smoothly.

Quinn shook his head. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. I want her near me at all times – I hope that this isn't a problem?"

The director hesitated shortly, then she began to smile. "No, of course not – please take a seat Mr. Marlowe."

As soon as the heavy door had closed Quinn glanced at his chronometer and said calmly: "May I enjoy the view first?"

Together with the director he stepped in front of the window; Vette moved silently behind them – an injector in her hand. Before the director even felt that something had penetrated her skin she already lost consciousness and fell on the floor. Quinn dragged the director to her desk and used her hand on a small scanner on the desk. A small elevator in the back of the room slid open: It was the director's private lift.

Vette and Quinn entered the lift; it was rather narrow. Vette stood so close to Quinn that she could smell his after-shave. If he didn't like the close proximity to her he didn't show it. Instead he had a focused look on his face as he checked his chronometer.

"We have about 28 minutes before the alarm goes off."

Vette reached past him and pushed the lowest button. "Yeah, let's make it snappy."

The lift began to move. Vette checked her blasters and took deep breaths to calm down before the upcoming firefight.

The doors opened with a ringing sound and revealed two surprised guards who hadn't a chance to aim their rifles at the intruders before Vette shot them. They stepped out of the lift and rushed down the corridor to an unmarked door. Quinn stood guard with his blaster drawn while Vette inserted a data stick and hacked the lock. Mere seconds later the door slid open and Quinn stepped inside covered by Vette. The room was empty. Blaster burns at the walls indicated that there had been a fight.

"As expected. They were taken captive," said Quinn, "we need to find the holding cells."

"Way ahead of you, Capt'n! My data spike is already scouring the building for cells, we can take a little break while my program is working through the security layers." Vette grinned at him and popped a chewing gum in her mouth. She offered him also one, but Quinn only grimaced and said: "23 minutes."

"I didn't know that you had a built-in chronometer," mocked Vette. "I…" In this moment her holocommunicator beeped and as soon as she had activated it it displayed the blueprint of the building and one location with red dots in them. "The holding cells are two levels above us."

They rushed back to the lift and exited after mere seconds in the same fashion as before. The guards were easily defeated, Vette spit out the chewing gum before they stormed the prison. Major Ovech and his men and women were trapped behind force-fields. The sight of the imperial soldiers made Vette tense up – and for a moment she was distracted. The rattataki who guarded them grazed Vette with one shot, but Vette killed her with a quick shot. They secured the room and Vette popped two new gums in her mouth before turning her attention to the imps.

"By the stars!" exclaimed Ovech. "Lieutenant Quinn! I never expected to see you again!"

The soldiers begin the force fields got up on their feet and seemed quite impatient to leave their prisons.

"It's Captain Quinn now, Major," retorted Quinn dryly while he and Vette began to override the security protocols to open the cells. Vette shot him a glance; it was unusual that Quinn would bother with such a triviality at a time like this.

"Of course! Nobody deserves more … ah, we will talk as soon as everything is over."

One force field after another was lowered and soon all prisoners were set free. Vette hadn't expected overwhelming thanks from a bunch of imperials, but it still angered her that they didn't even glanced in her direction as she was setting them free.

Ovech briskly walked towards Quinn and took a quick look around.

"Excellent work! How do we proceed?" asked Ovech Quinn.

"I will lead you to a small lift that will take you to the roof, we have arranged for a transport that should arrive shortly to pick you up. But since only three people fit in the elevator it will take about 9 minutes to get everybody on top. Since you are unarmed besides the few weapons we took from the guards Vette will take point, I will stay behind until everybody is safe."

Just as Vette was about to lead the first group to the lift, a voice rang out: "I'm not sure that the alien can handle that – I would be more comfortable if you would take point, Captain!"

She turned and frowned at the speaker, a young Captain.

"I agree with Captain Newyis," added Ovech in a voice that tolerated no contradiction. "You take point, Captain."

Vette knew that there was no point – and no time – in arguing, she made eye contact with Quinn and nodded. He nodded too and rushed out of the room with two imperials.

Exactly 7 minutes later Vette stood in front of the lift with the last two soldiers. One of them, a tall light-skinned human male, had demanded that she would give her blasters to him.

"You don't have the training I had – hand me the blasters already!"

"Nope, you lost yours and these are mine – it's easy like that!" Vette grinned at him, still chewing her gum.

His friend gritted his teeth. "Obey your betters, girl! I won't be at some alien's mercy in a firefight!"

"My betters? Yeah, right…" snorted Vette and put her right hand on her blaster. Her demeanour was relaxed, but she was prepared for trouble.

Before the soldiers could answer the lift-doors opened and they stepped inside. Right before the doors slid shut, Vette was grabbed by one of the soldiers and pushed out of the lift. Before she could react the doors had closed and a soft purr indicated that the lift was on its way to the roof.

"Fuck!" Vette yelled and kicked against the lift door. She angrily spit out her gum. Time was running out; if Quinn's calculations were correct she would be screwed – unfortunately, Quinn's calculations were always correct. The alarm would go off while she was still in the sub-levels. She displayed quickly the blueprint and scanned the building for exits and realised that she had to use the lift after all – there was no other way out than the upper levels. Vette knew that the lift would probably be stopped as soon as the alarm was sounded, but she had no other choice than to give it a try.

After a few nerve-wracking minutes Vette finally heard how the lift approached and as soon as the door opened she rushed in and pushed top most button. Mere moments after the lift had started moving the alarm went off and the lift stopped immediately.

Vette used her data pad to hack the lift doors; they opened but the lift had stopped between the 42nd and the 43nd floor. Vette cursed under her breath: she had to climb up to the 43nd floor by propping herself against the wall and the lift. Sweat was running down her face as she heaved herself through the door to the upper floor. For a second she fell on her knees. A metallic taste of blood was in her mouth when she had reached the 43nd floor; she had bitten her lip in exertion. Although she was out of breath Vette couldn't afford to rest – she had to find a way out as fast as possible. She got on her feet and displayed once more the blueprint: There was no exit marked on this floor.

"What are you…"

Vette looked up from the holomap and saw a terrified office worker standing before her. The nemodian pressed a data pad to his chest and stared at her, obviously scared.

"Hey, I'm not here to hurt you, okay? Is there an exit?" She smiled at the nemodian and tried to appear calm.

"No, there is only the main exit," he answered quickly.

Before she could inquire further her holocommunicator beeped. A quick glance at the caller ID revealed that Quinn was trying to contact her. She quickly pressed the answer button and Quinn's figure materialised on the device.

"Vette – where are you?"

"I'm trapped on the 43nd floor!"

"Head to the nord-eastern windows, I will pick you up!"

Vette ended the call quickly and left the office worker behind her as she ran in the direction Quinn had told her.

Behind her she heard how somebody yelled: "There she is!"

Blaster blots missed her by centimetres but she kept running. Finally the windows came into view, Vette saw a taxi hover in the air, there was no doubt that it was Quinn. Vette drew her blasters and shot at the windows until they finally splintered. A gust of wind blew the broken bits of glass back at her, Vette felt a few burning cuts on her cheek.

The taxi flew nearer, but it was still about two metres away. Quinn opened the door on the passenger side and yelled something, but the wind was too strong, Vette couldn't hear him – it didn't matter anyway. In a few seconds the mercenaries would reach her position, she had to jump!

Vette took a few steps back, drew a deep breath and sprinted towards the edge. She felt like she would fly forever when she finally hit the taxi and grabbed the seat. Her legs were dangling out of the vehicle while she tried to pull herself in. Quinn grabbed her wrist with one hand while steering the taxi with the other.

A sudden pain in her right tight told Vette that the mercenaries were probably shooting at them – due to the strong wind she didn't hear blaster shots but the pain sure hurt like blaster fire. Quinn's grip intensified as he accelerated the taxi to speed away.

"Are you nuts?!" she yelled, feeling how she was losing grip on the seat as the taxi gained more speed.

Quinn didn't answer, but suddenly the taxi began rumbling and the smell of smoke reached her nose. There was no doubt in her mind, that the mercenaries had hit the taxi and as she turned her head she saw flames burning on the rear of the vehicle.

Suddenly she was jerked forward, for a moment it felt as if her shoulder was dislocated and she screamed in pain. But she was finally inside the taxi and Vette slammed the door shut.

"They hit the engines, we are going down!" yelled Quinn while trying to steer the taxi through the dense traffic on the lower levels of the city as they were spiralling down.

Vette put the belt on and watched in horror how they descended further down, a couple of times they almost crashed into other cars but soon they were past the bridge-city and its traffic, the treetops of the jungle came nearer and after a few seconds they broke through the branches and finally hit the forest ground.