Chapter 6

"I'm surprised you got my message so quickly."

Jolee shrugged and scratched his beard. "Carth, you know me. I've got a pretty damn good talent of showing up quickly, like an old bantha to come lumberin' around to grab some goulash. Goulash ain't bad when ya think about it."

Carth shook his head and smiled on Jolee's private hand-held communicator. "I've missed you, old man. I'm glad you haven't lost your sense of humor. Look I don't have much time, but I know you've heard about the quarantine on Telos." The old man nodded and the Admiral continued. "We don't have much food and supplies, and pretty soon we're going to run out, and I know that Norelco won't care. Do you think you can smuggle in some stuff using my light freighter? She's still docked there at my estate."

"Ooh, Mr. High and Mighty. 'I'm Admiral of the Republic so now I can buy an estate, whoopee.' You sound a good and proper stiff, Onasi."

Carth shook his head again. "Oh man," he said, "It's great to see you though. But I've got to go; this channel may have been compromised. Good luck." And with that Carth cut the channel. Jolee tossed the comlink onto his sofa across the room and laid down on the bed. He knew that he was getting far too old for this sort of thing.

He was in his private apartment in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. He and a few other Jedi had holed up in here, but no one knew of their presence on the planet. He was definitely an old man, and the way he saw it, he saved the galaxy twice and needed to catch a break.

He had forgone his standard Jedi robes while he had stayed here. He found it rather ironic that he wasn't wearing the uniform of the Jedi in the place for Jedi. He hadn't seen much action in recent months, but the dozen or so Jedi that had set up in here were less than likely to strike out against the Sith threat or the threat of the Exile. They were all, for lack of a better term, self-outcast Jedi, who had chosen to go into hiding.

Jolee was somewhat enjoying his 'retirement' but he knew something had to be done about Telos. The Republic didn't know about the Jedi safe house here in the Temple, but Chancellor Cressa knew that the Jedi wouldn't want him to violate their temple with Republic operatives inside of their catacombs, so they left the Temple dormant, and empty.

The old Jedi stood and walked into his kitchen and grabbed some of the vitamin juice the other Jedi had managed to mix up from some powder. They had rationed their food and supplies, but they hadn't needed their first aid kit or use their healing abilities due to the lack of any activity whatsoever. Jolee had spent some much of his time navigating the tunnels of the Temple, and other times diving head first into the records in the Archives. Otherwise he was in here, nappin'.

Jolee proceeded out of his chambers and into the halls of Temple. It was so vast with so little Jedi to occupy its corridors and dormitories. He made his way to the auditorium, or at least one of them. This auditorium was below the High Council's spire, and Jolee needed to speak with someone.

He opened the door with the flick of a switch and entered the dimly lit dome shaped room and its occupants were all sprawled in three or four chairs, with blankets and rations laden upon their laps. The old Jedi laughed to himself silently when he saw the Sniv Corstil's classic Across Space and Time displayed on the hologram projector. Here, Jorsin, played by Ty Iridru, was professing his love for the Zeltron dancer Ritha. Jolee had always hated this play, but apparently there were those left in the Order who appreciated acting and drama. But Jolee couldn't figure out why Jedi, even semi-Jedi, would be watching a musical that emphasized emotional attachments.

He walked down a few steps and scanned the room and saw the person he had come looking for. Juhani was reading a datapad in a corner seat, uninterested in the drama displayed on the projector. He silently made his way down to her and discreetly sat in the row on behind her. He didn't speak for a few seconds, but when he did, it didn't startle Juhani at all. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Juhani replied without looking up from her tablet. "What is it you require?"

Jolee leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "I've got a job to do with Telos. I want you to go with me." He paused for a moment, and then continued with, "Carth is trapped on the planet and needs supplies."

Juhani looked up and cocked her feline-like features toward him. Her yellow eyes always gave him the whillies. "You need a smuggling partner? Why didn't you say so before?"

Azkul's shuttle descended slowly into the Palace's private hangar bay, and the war veteran absent-mindedly caressed his cheek where his scar was. He had lost vision in his right eye fighting a Mandalorian in the Jedi Civil War, but of course it had been an unsanctioned battle between two mercenaries, who had no affiliation with the Republic or Sith. But it wasn't the scar that he was focused on; He had known General, well King now, Vaklu for some time; they had fought together in several skirmishes beyond Republic space before the Jedi Civil War, and both men had grown to respect each other immensely. Both had saved the other's life numerous times but they hadn't spoken in the years since Revan and Malak returned as conquerors from the Unknown Regions.

The shuttle landed, and Azkul bounced around slightly in his seat before he unlocked his belt. He was dressed in a flight suit, and he had his blaster holstered at his hip; he always felt a little less jumpy when he had a blaster at his side. He made his way down the boarding ramp, and was greeted by the King's Royal Guard, headed by General Vaklu's newly endowed second in command, Colonel Liyous. He was a tall and thin man, with short cropped brown hair. He had a thin and trimmed chin strap beard, and black leather boots that complemented his militant uniform. "Welcome, Commander Azkul," he said with a little nod. "General Vaklu has been looking forward to your arrival."

"Likewise I'm sure," Azkul said coldly. "Let us proceed into the Palace then."

Liyous nodded, turned and the Royal Guard escorted them out of the hangar and into a turbolift that took them to the throne room level. They then proceeded to the main security room, where Liyous said Vaklu would meet them. They traveled in silence, no man speaking to one another and Azkul was busy admiring some of the training members of the Iziz Sanctum, he believed they were called. The way he was told, they were an army of Jedi that were trained by Valos Norelco to protect Onderon from invaders. He would kill for a task force with the same abilities.

They entered the security room and Azkul took a seat on one of the benches opposite the terminal screens. It had been a long flight and he was very tired; he hoped to sleep well within the palace tonight. The good colonel dismissed the guard and said Vaklu would be there in a few minutes and he too left the room. Azkul felt slightly on edge; he was alone, and for a strange reason felt as though his life was in immediate danger.

Vaklu then entered the room, which eased Azkul slightly. The former General was dressed in fine silk clothing, which Azkul thought didn't suit him at all. "You look like a pampered palace rat, Vaklu," he shot at him, "Never thought I'd see the day when you started gettin' soft."

Vaklu smiled back. "And yet you are the one who is an administrator of a militant government on a farm world."

Azkul shook his head and walked forward to grasp the other man's hand. "It's nice to see you, comrade. What can I do for you?"

"I wished to discuss something with you."

"This couldn't have been over the comm?"

"I prefer this to be off record."

Azkul was slightly surprised, yet not so surprised by this; Vaklu had been a secretive man when they had worked with their group of gunslingers back in the day. He had told no one but Azkul of his royal bloodline back on Onderon, and it actually had been Azkul who convinced him to return to Iziz to petition to be King.

"Please, go ahead." Azkul said, stepping back."

Vaklu cleared his throat, and crossed his arms across his torso. "I've been contemplating the events of Telos and of the Exile's exploits both here on Onderon and on Dantooine."

"Yeah, what about it?"

Vaklu didn't continue for a few moments. "He has demonstrated great power, and drive and ability to do what must be done."

Azkul rolled his eyes. "Get to the damn point."

Vaklu nodded and said briefly, "What is going to stop him turning upon us like he did upon Telos?"

Azkul tilted his head and his eyes widened. "What are you proposing?"

"An alliance."

Azkul paused for a moment before he answered. He was hoping that Vaklu wasn't proposing a rebellion against the Exile; failure would mean certain death, or perhaps a lifetime of torture. "You wish to assassinate the Exile," he said simply.

Vaklu turned and walked toward one of the computer terminals and punched something in. "He has grown too powerful to not be considered a threat, my friend," he said with his back to him. "It is better to prepare than to perish."

Azkul rolled his eyes and he remembered being sick of Vaklu's preaching when they had served together. "But you are unofficially committing treason, my friend." He said the last two words in the same fervor that Vaklu usually spoke in.

Vaklu finished typing into the terminal and turned. "Perhaps this will change your mind," he stated and indicated the monitors on the opposite wall. There flashed three holovids, one of Norelco fighting a Jedi Azkul was not familiar with, another of his massive invasion fleet at Citadel Station, and the last fighting Vrook in the Khoonda entrance hall.

Azkul turned back to the Onderonian. "How did you get that footage?" he indicated the holovid of Vrook.

"I received it from Dopak shortly thereafter you departed Dantooine."

Azkul mentally growled; he knew that Dopak would have supported this alliance with Vaklu and Onderon. He was always a bold kid, maybe stupid, but bold.

"Well," Azkul replied, "I'll remember to gut the kinrath spawn when I return to the system." He smiled, though he meant every word.

"Ah, but Dopak understands that this would be beneficial to both our parties, Azkul," Vaklu continued. "If the Exile is slain, we will assume command of his empire and his forces."

"Perhaps you're an idiot too. We don't nearly inspire as much fear as this man does. Nor do we possess as much power. The empire would merely crumble; we could never salvage the pieces." Azkul found himself yammering on, but felt there was more to be said. "Don't bite off more than you can chew. This is not a good move, Vaklu. Why don't you focus on expanding your trade routes and not assuming somebody else's power?" He turned to leave, but Vaklu grabbed his shoulder, and Azkul almost instinctually executed a trip kick to the ankles, but managed to restrain himself.

"You really should reconsider, Azkul," Vaklu said.

"Why would I do that?" Azkul responded, craning his neck slightly to see Vaklu in his peripheral vision. He did not come here to fight, but he was more than ready to.

"This is for the survival of both our worlds, and perhaps the galaxy. I need you on my side."

Azkul considered this for several moments, and then spoke. "Alright, but we do this indirectly. Don't make a move on the Exile yet. Sabotage his moves, and then we'll seize the opportunity when it arises. Nothing more."

Vaklu patted him upon the shoulder as Azkul turned. The two men grasped each other's forearms, a show of highest respect. "I knew I could count on you my friend." Vaklu said holding Azkul's gaze.

"Don't press your luck, General." And with that, Azkul left the room and heading for the spaceport, thousands of thoughts racing through his mind, all connected with the fate of the galaxy. He wondered what parties would assume power….and about how much money he would end up making.