He wiped the blood off of his arm. Not his blood. He stepped back. The female Jedi had blacked out again. Her ally, however, either had thicker skin or was mentally stronger than he appeared. He stared back at Jaq with passionless eyes. Or so he wanted him to think.
Jaq leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "You aren't fooling anyone. It's only a matter of time." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver coin and tossed it in the air casually.
"Then kill me."
Jaq laughed. It was a cold, mirthless chuckle that echoed within the confines of the room. "Oh...you aren't getting off that easy. Don't you know why you're here?"
Ben Fria's breathing rate increased. His passion and hatred for this...this killer, was seeping through cracks of serenity the Jedi had built for himself. Of course he knew why he was here. And his torturer knew that he knew. But how?
"How?" asked Jaq, leaning forward slightly. "Open-ended. I hate that. I hate you, Ben. That's what makes this all so easy."
Ben moved his tongue over his cut lip and growled at the other man. "Like I said. Kill me. Kill her. You've proved yourself – you and the rest of the Sith."
"No." he smiled.
"Don't you get it, you bastard! Kill us! Do us in! You've won!" shouted Ben.
You're almost there, kid, he told himself. Just keep laying out the bait. "I haven't won. Not yet. But let's continue this conversation. Now, I remember asking you whether you were aware of the reasons for why you were brought to Korriban,"
"Conversion," spat out Ben.
"Clever lad. But do you know on whose orders you were summoned here?"
"It doesn't make a damned difference to me. One Sith is no different from the other."
"No...I'm afraid it will make a difference to you. And to her."
"Leave her out of this!" yelled Ben.
"Why should I? She's as much a Jedi as you are. And I want her to know as well."
"So what now – you gonna go stuff your face till she wakes up? Take a hot shower? Wipe that blood off your jacket? I'll tell you something, Jaq. You can wash and wash for all it's worth – and you're never going to get one drop off of your soul."
Jaq's smile vanished but not his calm. "You trying to guilt me? Been there. Done that."
"Oh yeah?" smiled Ben, in a manner that unnerved Jaq. "You think guilt goes away with a wave of your hand? It's still there. And you may not feel it right now, but it will come for you, bearing all sorts of weapons. It may not come tonight, or tomorrow, but before you die – I promise you this – you will suffer its fury."
Jaq turned away and started to walk out of the room. "Ah, save it, Preacher."
"Here, have something to fill your stomach. You must be weary after all that hard work." The Twi'lek gestured for her manservant, awaiting instructions beside the long table, to bring the tray up to Jaq. As he did so, Jaq caught a glimpse of freshly cut fruit adorned with sprigs of mint in a golden bowl. And then his mind's eye brought up Ben's mangled arm, muscles and tissue exposed – a slow, painful torture that Jaq had managed to perfect in the span of two hours.
"Thank you, no. I'm not hungry." said Jaq.
The female Twi'lek cast her eyes down at the ground and spoke. "You've done very well so far. I'm impressed. Now don't let your guilt get you down, you should be proud."
You think guilt goes away with a wave of your hand?
"I'm not hungry dammit! What the hell is the matter with everybody – telling me what to do?" yelled Jaq suddenly, surprising the Twi'lek in front of him.
"No one is commanding you here, Jaq. I am just trying to make your stay a comfortable one. It's obvious to me that Korriban upsets you so, and I must do what I can to ease the situation."
"Oh yeah? Since when did you give a damn about anyone?"
A flash of fury shot into her eyes. "Don't evangelize to me, runt. You will accept what is being offered to you or suffer it being shoved down your throat." And then the anger washed off her eyes and she was suave again. "Now come, please dine with me, and let us take our minds off unpleasant thoughts."
He moved his hands to allow for the food to be served onto his plate.
"Ben," she croaked, her voice crackling. She did not sound like she thought she would.
"I'm here," came his voice soothingly from somewhere.
"Ben, I can't see."
He turned his head to look at the stone table where Yustan lay. Both her eyes were swollen, giving an odd appearance to the shape of her forehead. Her beautiful eyes were hidden amidst her injured flesh.
"It's okay. You're alright. You just have a couple...bruises. That's all."
She chuckled and he was surprised, yet happy to hear her laugh. "You were never one for understatement, Ben. I must look down right awful."
"Nothing a few drinks of Juma and some deep sleep couldn't cure," he said.
She felt him smile through his voice. "You think we can get some of that room service soon?"
"I don't think the bellhop has a particularly good reputation."
She tried to shift into a more comfortable position and groaned. "My leg, it burns."
Ben's eyes immediately focused on her leg and quickly shut themselves after taking it in. "Nothing to worry about, kiddo."
"What did they do?" drops of panic fell into her voice.
"Nothing. You're fine."
"How are you? What did they do to you?" asked Yustan, concerned.
"They asked me to re-enact the dance I did for that Hutt on Tatooine. Pure torture, I tell you." he tried to sound cheerful.
"Ben, please. Where are we? Who brought us here?"
When Yustan locked onto something she wanted, be it an enemy in space combat or an answer to a single question, she never let go. It was best to give her what she wanted. "Korriban. And our contact...that pilot, or whoever he was, he brought us here."
"On whose orders?"
"I don't know."
"His own?"
"I don't think he's got the gall to run an operation of this sort on his own." muttered Ben. "Besides, this has Sith written all over it."
"Don't underestimate him. We did that before, and now look where we are."
"Utopia?" quipped Ben.
She ignored him. "Something's not right here."
"Really? What tipped you off?" he said, somewhat irritably. The pain in his arm was starting to get to him.
"Men like Jaq, they only serve themselves. No one can own him, because his spirit, as sick as it is, craves freedom and will do anything to get it. He may be working for the Sith, but I don't believe he's been at this...torturing game for a long time. Which leaves us with two guesses. Either he was hired just after he met us or..."
"...he was just a smuggler all along?"
The side of Yustan's mouth curved up into a smile. "Pure genius, Ben."
"Wait, he was a smuggler?" repeated Ben, befuddled.
"He smuggles Jedi. Or he catches them and ships them...I don't know. How else do you think he was able to bait us? That doesn't come easy, you know. He's been doing this for a while." She scowled. "And he fooled us extremely well. He's an actor, our boy. His thoughts were sickening when I tried to read his mind – but he conjured them up deliberately. He was dissuading me, don't you see? He was leading us on making use of our pride. He downplayed himself, allowed us to underestimate him so that he would gain the upper hand."
Ben winced as the throbbing in his arm grew. He kept talking to keep his mind off the pain. "But what good does this information do for us now? Aren't we already caught?" Something heavy was growing on him. Something he didn't quite understand. But he was not worried.
"Caught, but not yet dead. Not yet turned. We have a fighting chance."
"Huh. I don't much feel up to fighting." His voice grew softer. "Or for talking..."
"Ben, focus. Talk to me."
He didn't respond.
"Tell me about Tatooine, Ben. Tell me about some of the things that happened there, c'mon."
She grew worried as the silence grew longer. Yustan reached out for Ben's thoughts, his feelings, and felt nothing. Panic. Why wasn't he responding? She couldn't sense his usually high energy flow, and worse yet, it seemed to wane with each passing minute. Ben, she called out in her mind? Come on, buddy, talk to me! This is not happening.
No, it is happening and you have to do something about it. She tried to force her mind to work, increasing the amount of adrenaline that flowed through her blood. Her shackles were made of electro-metal. They could not be snapped or opened without access to a control switch that overrode the power command. Where was the control switch? The last time she saw it...was in Jaq's hand. And he most likely had taken it with him. Damn!
Electro-metal.
Electricity. Flow of electrons. Metal. Conductor. Transporter. Transporter of electrons. Interrupt flow. Short circuit.
She shook her head, no. She would get electrocuted. Do we have a choice? Of course we do, she assured herself. We have three. We could shape events allowing us to die. Or we could attempt to escape. Or we could become Sith.
It doesn't take a whole load of brains to tell me what choice will get me the hell away from this death pit.
She felt her way around the room using the Force. She felt the cold stench of the walls, the grains of the mortar holding the large stones in place, and the hooks embedded in certain spots. She shuddered. Feeling her way towards the floor she felt something smooth and soft – cloth – no, that wouldn't do. Her mind went back to the hooks. They were there in order for, she swallowed, victims, and items to be hung from, were they not? Her feelings reached out for them somewhat reluctantly.
There! She felt something. Not sharp, blunt. About a foot long, rod-like, and made of metal. What was it used for? That didn't matter now. It was perfect. Concentrating hard, she felt the rod move slowly and upwards as it slid off the hook and fell with a chink to the floor.
Yustan shifted her focus to the power cables. She sensed that the cables running up to the shackles that held her down were embedded within the stone table she was on. This was going to be tricky. Perhaps there was an exposed spot...? She felt a small surge of power coming from about two feet away from her. The rubber insulation had worn off slightly as part of the cables had not successfully been laid into the room's proper electrical wiring scheme.
If I get out of this alive, I'll send the electrician a thank-you note, she told herself.
Alright, kiddo. This is it. If this doesn't pan out, I'll be watching Korriban from someplace far, far away. So make it work, for Ben. Pain. Hurt. Agony. Love it, and hang on to it tight, because it will let you know you're alive.
Channeling all her energy into her sole purpose, she picked up the metal rod lying quietly on the floor, and drove it with all her might into the exposed wiring. Clenching her fists together tightly, more to brace herself than due to involuntary muscle contraction, she felt the metal make contact with the electrical wires. Almost immediately, she felt an uncomfortable tickling sensation escalate into searing pain.
"Alive," she grunted, out of necessity, and felt the shackles clack open. The pain did not release her yet. She would have to find the energy to do that herself. With what she thought was her final gulp of air, Yustan heaved herself off the table to land onto the stone cold floor.
She lay there gasping for breath. Feeling the coolness of the floor on her cheeks, she started to laugh.
Garfey Tam felt his body heat curl up around his head – and the golden armour he was wearing did nothing to alleviate his discomfort. Something must be wrong with the cooling unit on this damned thing. He twisted his body slightly and reached behind him with his left hand, fumbling slightly with the knob. He heard a hiss next to his ear and felt a refreshing stream of cool air wash over his sweat-soaked body. Tam breathed a sigh of relief.
He turned his attention back to the security vids. Everything seemed normal...his eyes routinely scanned each section of the new quadrant, and settled finally on the last screen. He blinked in disbelief.
The second Jedi. The woman. Gone.
Bloody hell.
He almost fell backwards trying to get out of his chair. He slammed his fist into a large button on a panel attached to the wall. Almost immediately a loud wail resounded across the entire building.
He jerked open a large locker and grabbed an assault rifle. There was not much time to think. If he didn't get her back, it would be the death of him.
As soon as she stepped out of the room, Yustan Wes-Tar heard the wailing sirens resonate loudly against her eardrums. Getting the door open was a piece of cake. She was a fool to believe that her escape could be that easy.
She felt her calm waste away slowly. Her leg burned intensely with every movement she made. And on top of it all, she couldn't see a damned thing. That wasn't to say that the swelling was never going to go down – it was, she could feel it – but the only thing she could see was a faint blur at the corners of each eye.
What you can't see with your eyes, you can with the Force.
She walked forward slowly. A long corridor, she could feel it. Anyone in here? There...two guards flanking the exit. Just guards? Not Marauders? Okay then. There's a chance we can make this work. You with me, Ben? We can do this.
She paused, remembering.
As soon as she had gotten up off the floor after breaking free, she had crawled to Ben's side. Using her hands, she had felt for his pulse, and to her simultaneous joy and dismay, she felt it. It was there. But it was weakening. She had run her hand across the contours of his face.
"Get up buddy," she had said.
He had grunted. It was barely audible, but he had responded.
"Let's get you out of here."
Nothing this time. She could feel his eyes flicker behind closed lids though. He was trying to get through to her.
Talk to me, she had spoken with her thoughts.
Yustan?
Yes, Ben. I can hear you fine from here.
I can't move, Yustan.
I can carry you.
No you can't. I can see you. You can't leave here intact with extra baggage.
Says you.
I'm dying.
You're fibbing.
Yustan. I'm dying. But I'm not gone. Do you understand?
You're a liar, Ben Fria. Open your eyes and admit it!
I'm free.
No you're not, you damned fool, you're tied up. They still have us! Wake up! Wake up!
They don't have me anymore and they never will.
Ben...Ben, no. Don't go. Don't leave me here. Stay...
Yustan, listen to me. I'm free. You're not. Leave me now.
You're just giving up! You're a loser!
She had heard him laugh. That familiar, beautiful sound. But it was not audible to her ears. And then he had spoken again. No, I'm not. I didn't lose. I won.
Don't leave me here, please.
I will never leave you.
I can't leave you here...not with them.
What they do with my body is no longer my concern. Someone is going to come here, Yustan. And soon. Get out of this room.
Not without you.
Are you listening to me, Yustan? I will never leave you.
And then she had bent down, holding her friend close. She had kissed his closed eyes and slowly, reluctantly, stepped away.
Two guards. What was wrong with this scenario? It was too simple. Her breathing quickened and her muscles tightened. But there was nothing for her to do but walk forward towards the exit. She would be damned if she retreated further into this hell hole.
As she advanced, she ran her left hand slowly along the wall. Seconds later, she felt a tremble. She did not need the Force to tell her that things were spiraling downwards again.
Well, you can't expect an ace every time, you know.
Yustan smiled despite herself. No kidding. What now?
Droids. Heavily armoured.
Ben?
Blaster fire. There's no way you can dodge that – Force or no Force. Get yourself a weapon.
From where?
Guards are using vibroswords. Droids are moving fast at your three o'clock position down a ramp. They're moving to intercept.
Right. Got it.
Leaving caution to the wind, she sprinted. She ran flat out, not holding back. The guards were expecting her, and she knew it. She sensed them fan out, and then felt their tense muscles relax slightly. What was going on? Yustan realized suddenly, and smiled inwardly. A blind, injured, hapless prisoner. I am so glad you jokers call 'em as you seem 'em.
But they were not completely off guard. They knew Jedi. They just didn't know Yustan. The one on her right snuck up behind her and grabbed her arms. He pulled them back hard and with a jerk. She felt her muscles strain with the pressure. She heard the clatter of footfalls grow louder with each passing second. Droids. How many? Didn't matter. A new sound, from in front of her now, a sound of metal scraping against metal.
"No, you idiot! They'll want her alive!" said the soldier behind her.
A sword being unsheathed. That's what it was. Your sword. I want it.
She leaned back into her captor's body, using him as support. He was taken aback – literally. He had not expected her to fall into him; he had expected restraint in the forward direction. He moved one foot backwards to steady himself and keep hold of his prisoner. That was just was Yustan wanted him to do. She tightened her gut, and kicked out hard with both feet, hoping to get her other opponent in the stomach.
Two seconds later, she heard metal clink loudly onto the floor and echo against the walls.
The sound of the droids. They had stopped.
Twenty heavily armoured combat droids. Right behind you.
She let out a breath of air. But she wasn't dismayed. Adrenaline flowed through her veins in waves. She couldn't stop now. The show wasn't over.
"You will lower your weapons and come with us!" rang out a metallic, inhuman voice.
Her captor seemed to heave a sigh of relief. But he had not slackened his hold on her. This bloke would not be easy to shake off. What of the other soldier, she wondered?
Knocked his head on the door. Temporarily unconscious.
And the sword?
Right next to him.
But the droids...
You can take 'em. Dance, Yustan. Dance like you've never danced before.
She wrapped her fingers around the soldier's arms and gripped them hard. He seemed surprised. And then, using all her strength, she spun. Around and around, with the soldier still clinging on to her, utterly confused. They looked almost comical, the prisoner and her captor, twirling round in circles.
The confusion spread into the droids processors. She was endangering the life of a Sith soldier, thereby endangering this building and the academy itself. If the target could not be acquired with the mere use of threats, force would be required. Two opposing lines of thoughts intersected each other. Capture prisoner alive. Destroy possible threat. Prisoner appears to possess self-destructive tendencies. Logical deduction: eliminate prisoner before entire facility is taken out. One own casualty was more acceptable than many.
Here it comes. Stop moving...now.
She stopped. She felt the blaster fire rip through the body of her foe, and winced as she felt his life force melt away. She dropped down to her knees and then lay down flat – feeling the additional weight slide off her – as blaster fire whizzed by. Yustan fumbled around feeling for the sword, felt its hilt and clasped her fingers around it.
A laser bolt grazed her shoulder blade. Her human shield was no longer present. Oblivious to it, she turned quickly onto her back and leapt up onto her feet. From a distance, melee combat was not very effective against blasters. Sooner or later, the blaster would prevail. So there was only one choice.
"Let's get up close and personal, boys," hissed Yustan.
She felt the cold metal of the droid in front of her. She swung her sword – somewhat clumsily – but as hard as she could. Hot sparks showered her face.
One down.
A shot cut into her thigh. She grunted and moved backwards with the blow.
You are in a corridor. They are coming at you two at a time. Some are crouched down. Some are not. Listen to me as you fight.
Left – swing low. Right – swing high in an arc. Move forward. Closer. Aim high. Ignore the pain. Strike left. Parry. Thrust forward, twist your blade...
And so it went. Until all she could hear were her own ragged gasps. And then all of a sudden, she felt the cuts, the burns. She fell to her knees, still grasping the hilt of her sword.
Not yet, she told herself. The exit was just behind her.
No.
No?
This building is on automatic lockdown. You can't get that door open with a permacrete detonator if you had one. Go back. Take the ramp the droids took to get here.
Go back inside? Are you crazy?
No response. Alright, she thought. Alright. You got me this far.
She stumbled up the ramp. Her connection to the Force was diminishing slowly. She had been considerably weakened after her battle with the droids, and could not sense more than a foot in front of her. And what was worse, she couldn't hear him in her head anymore. She simply blundered forward – being forced to take sharp turns as she ran into walls. She was afraid again.
And with fear came loss of the Force.
She held her left hand outstretched in front of her, her right gripping the sword. She ran into another wall. Tears welled up in her eyes.
Walk four meters forward.
She almost gasped with relief at the sound of his voice.
There is a smooth, thick, metal panel to your right. It feels and looks like a light switch. Do not press it. Feel around its edge. Pull.
She pulled.
Push the lever inside the panel upwards.
She pushed.
She heard the grating of something large moving. She tensed.
Step sideways to your left and walk forward. Then run.
"A passageway?" she asked aloud.
Yes.
"How did you know?"
There were only Sith soldiers in this building. No droids. The droids came through the escape route.
"Escape route?" she repeated, her hopes soaring.
Yes. Now, run.
She ran.
The passageway was narrow and the ceiling low. She could feel her hair brush against it as she ran. She wondered where this new path led to. Now that there was a bigger chance of escaping alive, several questions whizzed around in her mind. She hadn't seen any soldiers save for the two guarding the exit in the passageway. Where were the others?
On the second level, answered her guide, her rescuer. They anticipated that you would not leave this building the conventional way.
This passage...where does it lead to?
Escape. Safety. Don't slow down now.
At that minute, she felt a gust of air sweep across her face, and warmth – softer and kinder – touch her skin. The sun. She was outside. She stopped in her tracks, turning around slowly, the wind whipping around her.
There are two Sith fighters here on this rooftop. These are evac vehicles – no launch codes are required. The droids were here to guard them. Get in. You have five minutes.
She turned her head upwards, and blew a kiss into the sky before running up the small ramp and into the craft. "You really do keep your promises, don't you?" she grinned.
She felt him smile back in return.
Uthar Wynn's jaw tightened in his fury. He glowered at the soldiers standing in front of him. Yuthura Ban stood to his right. He wanted to ignite his saber then and there and cut every single one of them down. But, no. Have patience, he instructed himself. They are not yours to deal with at the moment.
In the back of his mind, he felt something trying to justify their mistakes. The building had just been constructed. It was to be expected that security had not yet reached its highest possible standard. And they had only just received their first Jedi. Two demoralized, injured Jedi were hardly a reason to bring out the entire cavalry. And how could they have possibly expected the blasted female to discover their escape route? The building was sealed from within. It was teeming with as many soldiers as deemed necessary – and the current requirement was high. The contingency of escape was fresh in their minds, and all precautions made were thought to be foolproof. But this Jedi, she was no fool. Far from it.
And these imbeciles before him had let her slip through their fingers.
"You have all grieviously erred, and it obvious that you are aware of it." He began to pace. Back and forth. "We were the next installation amongst a list of many that Lord Revan has conceived. We were supposed to be as successful as the rest of them. But not only have we let both our hopefuls get away from our grasp – but we have done so on our first try. If it were me, I would have you executed. Every single one of you." He stopped pacing and looked at them. "But it's not up to me. And do not relieve your anxious souls. This is not a mercy, I assure you. It is still a death sentence, but one worse than what I would have dealt. You will have to answer, not to me, but to Lord Revan himself. As I understand it, he takes the loss of all his potentials extremely personally."
Uthar stepped backwards, inhaling their dread, their fear. He knew it would soon be his fear as well. Revan may not murder them – execution was a blessing – but he would literally engrave reminders of their error into their flesh.
The torturers would soon become the tortured.
When Yustan woke up, she did so with a frightened jerk. But she was away from that place. She was here, still in the pilot's seat, getting farther and farther from Korriban with each passing minute.
She shook her head briefly in disbelief. Thank you. Thank you.
Her swelling around her eyes had reduced considerably and she could now see much better. Kolto packs were a blessing, she thought. She reached forward with her hand, and punched in coordinates in her console.
The Jedi Council on Coruscant would be her automatic choice of destination ten years ago. But she was loyal to Revan now. He had to know of this threat.
"Should anything happen, you will report to me here – at this location. But remember, do not try to reach me if the situation is anything but dire," he had said when he last spoke to them.
She started punching in the last of the coordinates, when she heard him again.
No, Yustan. There is danger there.
"You're kidding right? We have to let him know!"
I do not know the whole story. But I sense treachery.
"From Revan?" she almost choked.
Our trust has been misplaced. We cannot turn to the Jedi. We cannot turn to Revan.
She leaned back, frustrated. "Well then, where the devil would you like me to go?"
I cannot guide you for much longer. But there may be someone who can.
"For pity's sake, tell me where to go, and tell me quickly. If I stumble upon a Republic cruiser while flying this thing, I'll be space dust before I can take my next breath."
Endor.
