STAR WARS
The Reverend's Fall
Part I
Tidis Drevan sat at the bar awaiting his contact. Attempting to remain inconspicuous, he had his plain, grey cloak drawn tight around him, yet the indentation at his hip had already garnered much attention.
On a rotating monitor above the bar, a preened Corrolan was talking about painless surgical operations to enhance societal assimilation before being replaced by a 'goldskin' advertising the latest saloon cruiser. Tidis regarded the patrons lining the bar opposite and grimaced. He prided himself on being non-judgemental, yet there was something clearly fractured about the denizens of the Brea' Bas district. These vagrants would only undergo surgery to escape the law, and the only saloon cruiser they would ever ride would be stolen.
Tidis sensed his contact's approach before he sat in the adjacent stool. The Vegash's odour negated any need for Jedi intuition.
"You are late," Tidis said. "Tardiness makes me suspicious."
"Everything makes you suspicious Reverend." Relik said. "No offence."
Tidis narrowed his eyes threateningly. "I have not come here to exchange idol banter; enough time has been wasted by your delay already."
Relik crossed his arms and clenched his padded fingers. Most people would regard such gestures as inconsequential; Tidis viewed them as preparatory.
"Do you have the information?" Tidis asked calmly.
"Yes Reverend, I have placed it on a Securicell."
"And what is the password?"
"I will give you the password when the credit is in my hands."
"Our previous dealings have been amicable, why the hesitance now?"
"I have heard things, the streets have a voice and they speak distrustfully of the Reverend."
"What do they say?"
"That you work for the Secret Police."
"I am not a Republican puppet and I would prove my legitimacy if I cared any more for these rumours than I do for your reassurance."
Tidis reached inside his cloak and noticed the Vegash's increased apprehension; Relik tightened his fists until his skin turned pale yellow.
"This is the sum we agreed on," Tidis said, lifting out a drawstring bag bulging with credits. "plus a little extra for your continued loyalty."
Relik snatched the bag and dropped it into a pouch hanging from his right hip.
"Aren't you going to count it?" Tidis asked.
"As you said, I am loyal, so I have no reason to believe you are not."
Tidis detected desperation in the Vegash's voice.
"I trust you have not viewed the information?" Tidis asked.
"No, I never look at the goods I deliver."
Tidis predicted Relik's hastened response. He was certain the Vegash was lying.
"Then our business is concluded," Tidis said, "after I have exited the bar, wait an hour. Then you are free to leave."
Relik nodded and a cold look entered his bulbous, spherical eyes. He handed Tidis the Securicell.
Tidis rose from his seat and paced slowly through the crowd of patrons. He was aware of Relik's eyes tracing his departure and of their sudden deviation as he exited the Drifting Star. The scenes outside the establishment were typical of Brea' Bas on a sweltering afternoon. Most citizens sat in the shade beneath stretched tarpaulins or makeshift shelters constructed with debris fallen from the atmosphere surrounding the planet. Others stood behind mobile stalls wearing oversized peaked hats selling whatever junk was consumable at the time.
What was untypical was the feeling Tidis experienced when he stepped out into the ferocious sunlight. Relik's cold eyes were replaced with a multitude of flaming pupils filled with murderous intent.
Tidis reacted speedily and ducked into an alleyway running parallel to the Drifting Star. The eyes were above him, convening on the rooftops. Tidis lowered his head and sprinted to the end of the corridor, but his pursuers were more than familiar with their environment. Tidis darted down another alley, but the eyes continued to close in; they focused on his cloak and explored the folds beneath; the Jedi knew they were aware of the lightsabre lolling from his belt.
The sunlight was interrupted by a moving shadow and Tidis wheeled to the side, pinning himself against a convex wall, only to avoid a blow from an electrostaff, which instead, sent sparks into the air and ignited a row of shirts hanging from a clothes-line. The wielder: a Breaker droid, normally used in construction, took a step towards Tidis before thrusting the electrostaff forward. Tidis easily ducked the attack and rolled to the side, avoiding the subsequent firework display as the weapon struck the mortar of the wall.
Someone was controlling the droid; someone who preferred not to get their hands dirty. Tidis knew the Breaker's armoured limbs were resistant to lightsabre attacks and that it could protect its torso effectively with the electrostaff, yet this was all theory; he had never come across a Breaker out for his blood.
Cumbersomely, the droid lunged again and Tidis leapt backwards, keeping his footing as he landed on a thin step a metre away. He took a moment to steady his nerves and assess the situation. The droid's controller was issuing silent commands from somewhere on the rooftops and Tidis knew he had to sever that connection. He ran up the steps and sprang the ten feet to reach the rooftop of a vehicle parts garage. He scanned the panorama for the controller, as the Breaker extended its mechanical arms and pulled itself up and over the roof gutter.
Tidis spied the controller, a squat Delvorian too slow to lower his binoculars, which momentarily refracted the sunlight revealing his position. Tidis imagined the controller was accompanied by a number of hired mercenaries who would do most things for money… accept take on a Republican Knight. He unhooked his lightsabre and fired the weapon up, waiting for the emitting hum and the warming green laser to extend. His suspicions were realised, when a commotion erupted around the Delvorian's position and Tidis watched a number of shadows disperse on the horizon.
The Breaker stood to its full extent and blotted out the sun. It unhooked the electrostaff from clips along its back and lumbered towards its target. Tidis reacted quickly and generated a ball of energy in his palm, releasing it to punch a hole in the garage roof around the droid's feet. The unwieldy Breaker tried to find purchase and briefly sacrificed its grip on the electrostaff. Sensing his window, Tidis shot forward and plunged his lightsabre into the flailing droid's abdomen plate. The laser sunk deep, nearly to the hilt, and the sound and smell of smouldering metal accompanied the searing red ring encompassing the weapon; if a droid possessed a heart, the Jedi would have pierced it. The Breaker fell immediately limp and as Tidis drew the lightsabre from its torso, the weight of its reinforced limbs sent it crashing through the roof to land upon a decrepit Sand-skimmer.
Obviously sensing the failed connection with his instrument, the controller began to traverse the rooftops towards the east. Tidis did not hesitate and began the pursuit. Too much preparation had gone into the attack for it to be a robbery and Tidis suspected the identities of his assailants would be on Relik's Securicell. The Jedi knew that the controller would not be able to escape him; he was moving at twice the speed and his progression across the rooftops was faultless. As Tidis approached the controller's previous position he heard a barely audible beeping and his instincts told him to seek lower ground. Tidis saw the flash of light before he heard the cacophonous explosion, which shook the foundations of the sandstone building and sent a mesh of shrapnel pieces in all directions. He was lifted off his feet and sent sprawling to the alleyway below, where his fall was broken by a tarpaulin. Despite his soft landing, he felt a spear of pain run down his forearm, where – on inspection – a fragment of twisted metal protruded from his flesh. Blood ran freely down the length of his arm and trickled from his fingertips to dry instantly as it dotted the scorching road. He felt his head swim and his peripheral vision became blotted by dark shapes; masked figures brandishing violent red lightsabres shimmered in and out of lucidity.
Tidis vomited and collapsed.
Part II
"Easy," a calm voice spoke.
Tidis regained consciousness slowly and attempted to sit up, only to suffer a wave of nausea and a weakness he had never experienced before. He moved to caress his temples, but only his right arm responded. Looking down in horror, he realised his left arm had been severed at the elbow.
"Easy," the voice came again, "you've lost a lot of blood."
"Where am I?" Tidis said.
"Do not panic, you are with friends of the Republic."
"The Republic has no allies in Brea' Bas."
"There is much you do not know about our city. Indeed, there is much you do not know about the Republic."
"What happened to my arm?"
"We found you lying unconscious in the Steamwell Market. Your blood was infected and the poison was spreading to your chest, seeking your heart. We used your sword to remove the limb. We are only halfway through the procedure; you will regain your arm and it will be fully functional."
"Who are you?"
"We work for Pasha Remintago, you may have heard of him."
"Remintago is a drugs warlord."
"The Pasha is a businessman, a man who has invested much of his time and wealth to restoring your life."
"Why not leave me to die? What is one less Republican Knight to a narcotics baron?"
"Believe me, you would have been left to the carrion if the Pasha could not profit from your survival. He has a proposition for you."
"Do I have a choice?"
"Choice is a concept the Jedi should be well accustomed to. There are no choices ungoverned by your will. Simply listen and decide."
Tidis nodded and watched the cloaked speaker turn and walk through a door guarded by four regimented men wearing angular helmets and wielding halberds. Tidis noticed that his waist and legs were secured with leather straps. A portly man entered through the same door and shuffled to stand over Tidis. The Jedi peered at the folds of flesh gathered beneath the man's chin, at the sweat lining his brow, at the jagged scar above his right eye. Tidis believed physical imperfections mirrored the imperfections of the spirit; in his eyes Pasha Remintago was deeply flawed.
"They call you the Reverend, why is this?" The Pasha asked.
"I wear the vestments of a dune-priest, it is simply a moniker conjured by the commonality."
"I believe my assistant has informed you of your predicament. We have acquisition of your arm and its return relies on your cooperation."
"Your assistant did not mention such a trade, but I appear to have little choice; what use is a Knight without his sword arm?"
"Your attitude intrigues me; you are relaxed about your circumstances?"
"Have you not dealt with the Jedi before?"
"I rarely meet with anybody, my assistant deals with our clients."
"And yet, you are so eloquent," Tidis said venomously.
The Pasha ushered one of the guards over and the helmeted man pressed a button at the base of the dais in-between Tidis' legs. A rectangular case rose alongside the dais containing Tidis' severed arm. The limb was encased in a layer of ice and froth bubbled on the surface of the liquid it was suspended in.
"I could easily have the temperature turned up," the Pasha threatened. "Still, are the Jedi not trained to be ambidextrous?"
Tidis narrowed his dark eyes, "even a Knight's single arm could bring your den to its knees."
"Let us not exchange threats. I am well aware of a Jedi's power, but bound as you are, I have nothing to fear. Will you listen to my proposition or shall I just return to the shadows with your arm as a memento?"
Tidis nodded respectfully.
"We know who you were tracking; we have unlocked the information on the Securicell and we are fully aware of your assignment.
"The information has revealed an opportunity for an alliance; the people you seek are tainting the Remintago name, frivolously dealing 'Material-M' across the city, with no concept of hierarchy, with no respect.
"We want the same thing, you and I; we simply have a different approach. While you wish to bring these dealers to justice according to the lenient laws of the Republic, I want their heads impaled on stakes; I want them paraded through the streets so that every citizen can look upon their tortured expressions and know that I alone deal in Brea' Bas."
"You want a Republican Knight to form an alliance with a drugs warlord."
"We have shared goals, I cannot capture these rebels without the aid of the Republic and you cannot regain your arm without my – how shall I put it… generosity."
"The Republic would never allow it. I would be condemned by the Council, stripped of my status and be forced to live in dishonour."
"The Republic will not discover our association. You will continue your assignment as if we have never met. When the rebels are captured, my assistant will exchange their lives for your left arm; flesh for flesh Reverend… flesh for flesh."
Tidis peered down at the severed stump and felt disgust, not at the seared tissue or the inanimate fingers, but at the thought of being less than whole, of being imperfect. "We have a deal," he grimaced.
"Very well Reverend," the Pasha said. "Now, I hope you don't mind me witnessing a Jedi's famed tolerance to pain. A normal man would almost certainly die during this procedure, but I have heard great stories of a Knight's endurance. Let us see if they are true."
The Pasha smiled sardonically and took a few steps back from the dais. Tidis watched mechanical arms rise from beneath to poise around his stump, before a pronged device began to whir as it revolved and plunged deep into his flesh.
