Night had finally graced Korriban with its presence, easing the heat off of its inhabitants. But it replaced the frizzled surface of the planet with an eerie chill. To those unfamiliar with Korriban, the coolness of the night would be a welcome change from the relentless scourge of the sun, but to most, the coldness reflected the essence of the nature of the Sith. A blatant disregard for all its counterparts. Whatever mercies it seemed to hand out...were merely coincidences. If it could help it, no one would be spared save itself. And those who knew Korriban, knew this well.
Sith patrols often turned up the thermostat inside their suits as they went on their rounds, leaving nothing to chance. They were increasingly on edge now – given the recent catastrophe involving the escape of one of Master Uthar's prisoners. Most of the guards and soldiers were not informed directly of the goings-on of this new section to the academy, but through rumour and simple word-of-mouth, they caught on. It was a conversion factory. And a mighty important one at that. Revan himself had been involved with the beginnings of construction, and it was said that he had even informed Master Uthar personally as to the details of the architectural plans. But then, if such a mission was so important to him, if reaching his goal was so imperative, failure would be something he would not react lightly to.
And that was a gross understatement.
But there was not much else to do but to continue. Routine rounds had to be made, reports had to be filed, and life in the Academy had to go on as usual. To the doubtful Sith there was always the option to leave, but to most who were caught in the act of abandoning their way of life, swift punishment was dealt. So a careful, well-weighted decision had to be made. And those who chose to leave were often at their wits end that either disregarded death as punishment or sought it as a means of escape.
Jaq sat atop of the rock, watching the moon patrol Korriban with its light and shook his head. He didn't fit either category. He scratched the side of his nose thoughtfully. He wasn't even Sith. Sure, they might think he was now their property, but he had notions of his own. He had a mind of his own and it sure as hell wasn't Sith.
Jaq brought his knees up to his chest and hugged them for warmth. But then, where did he stand? His work, his sickening profession, benefited no one but the Sith. He was a means to an end...he served their purpose and therefore, served them. It was a logical deduction and yet it didn't fit. He didn't fit. He was in limbo.
It was not an unfamiliar feeling and he battled with it constantly. Some days he could drink himself into a stupour and rid himself of this beast. Other days he could let it loose on his prey – the Jedi he was paid to retrieve, satiating its hunger. But freedom from it was only temporary and sooner or later, it caught up with him. It was at his door now, he knew, and through his diseased, yet strong spirit, he kept it at bay.
His eyes were red-rimmed with lack of sleep. He was not afraid of retribution. He'd expected it for three days now. He anticipated both Yuthura Ban and his Sithfulness, Uthar himself, to stride into his pitiful lodgings, drag him from his bunk and inflict excruciating forms of torture on his body. But no action had been taken. Jaq smiled. All the better for him, he supposed. Yuthura had not even hinted at the thought of punishment, she had been brusque when it came to matters of payment for his troubles, but that had been about it. How un-Sith-like of her, thought Jaq. Perhaps punishment would have been fitting. We could focus on something tangible...something our nerves could experience instead of fighting something elusive. How perfectly morbid of us – to want the soul to match the body.
The beast was scratching at the door now.
Oh God, he would do anything for a decent night's sleep. He didn't need dreams. He simply wanted to fall into the comfort of unconsciousness for a while. He wanted to lie in a bed without fear. Without the fear of anticipating retribution. Not from those of the living, but from those of the dead. He had killed many, and most of them had died at his hands through ignoble means. He was not a warrior, he was no hero. He fought without honour and through some inherent sadism, it gratified him. It fueled him and it consumed him.
He heard the door giving way now. Soon it would be in, and they would confront each other again. Perhaps not tonight, but soon.
Jaq shut his eyes tight and began to cry.
Mataki awoke with a start. Tensing her muscles, she listened carefully to the sounds of the night, ready to move if she heard anything out of the ordinary. But there was nothing there, save for the steady croaks of the frogs, chirping crickets and the occasional hoot of a nocturnal bird.
Javin, she thought hurriedly.
She swung her legs off the bed and strode quickly, but silently into his bedroom. She peered into it and saw his shape underneath the covers. Scrutinizing the dozing form carefully, she saw his chest rise and fall with the sweet, slow rhythm of sleep. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, Mataki backed out and retreated to her own room.
Is this how mothers are, she wondered? Did their inbuilt alarm systems become triggered if their loved ones were in harm's way? Maybe that was what had happened that night. Mother must have carried Javin, Father must have held me, and they ran like they had never run before.
Or had they?
You were running from something before you came to Endor, Mama. What was it? Who was it who put such fear in your heart? I wish I knew.
She fell softly back onto the bed, and sunk her head into the pillow, dismissing her questions only to greet the arrival of sleep.
He awoke to sunlight, and for the first time in a long time, it seemed kind. He had curled himself up into a ball, with his jacket wrapped around him. He peeked out with one eye to see the sun rising over a ridge ahead of him. It was a warming, beautiful feeling. He knew it wouldn't last for very long, the heat would eventually take over everything...but he wanted to enjoy this moment and make it stretch out for as long as he could.
Jaq unwound himself from his jacket and propped himself up, feeling the day's first rays of sun glide across his cheek. He wished sunlight could be solid, and he wished it was a hand instead, a hand that belonged to someone living, someone living with a voice who could tell him that he could start afresh. That the slate would be wiped clean and he could take his first steps of as a new person.
His heart lurched downwards sickeningly and despairingly. It couldn't be. There was far too much baggage that contained the souls of the dead. They would have to forgive him first and that was an impossible task.
He wiped what little sleep he had out of his eyes and looked about him. A guard on patrol walked below him noiselessly. He was knew perfectly well that the guard was aware of his presence, but as he had permission and the authority to go about the Sith grounds, he would not be challenged.
Jaq gave out a sharp whistle.
The guard immediately tensed and pointed his weapon in the direction of the sound.
Jaq held up his hands in a passive expression. "Hey! Let's not get trigger happy, alright?"
The guard snorted and put down his weapon. Speaking with must have been a snarl behind that metallic mask, he said "Don't waste my time, you drunkard!"
Jaq pointed at himself with a mocking who, me? gesture and smiled. "How's the weather back at the chateau, old boy?"
"I don't have the time to exchange words with the likes of yourself, so say what you've got to say and let me get on with my rounds."
Geez, Sith these days...thought Jaq. Alright then. If soldier fluff wanted to skip the niceties, the least he could do was to return the favour. "When's Revan going to hit this joint and turn you lot into mincemeat?"
Jaq had to suppress a smile as he felt the guard tense up.
"I am not made privy to such information," replied the guard curtly. And then both as an afterthought and for recovery's sake; "And who the heck might you be? What's your rank?"
"You mean you don't know who I am? I'm shocked. I really am. Why don't you go ask Yuthura? She'll be sure to tell ya." This was probably very stupid on his part. He didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself, from this geezer or from Yuthura. But he'd hope taking the gamble on mentioning Yuthura's name would cause him to back off.
The gamble worked. The guard waved a dismissive hand in the air and walked off.
Jaq shook his head and breathed out. It was too early in the day. That was what made him slow. What could he possibly have gained by asking what he did? Revan wouldn't announce his arrival to Uthar himself, let alone the guards. That just wasn't his style.
My style, however, thought Jaq, is shoot and go. Things had been heating up for a while now, but that had suddenly come to a dramatic halt. What took its place, though, was an uneasy silence that had begun to pack all the tension into a tight little ball. This was the infamous calm-before-the-storm scenario and he knew it well. It was his emergency exit and would probably be the last one offered to him before this gale swung into full force.
He got up onto his feet and dusted the sand off his shirt, jacket and pants.
It was time to wave adieu to Korriban.
He strode with an air of relaxed calm into the small hangar. The first thing he noticed was that the force fields had been turned off. He'd have thought that security would be max right about now. The second thing that got his alarm bells ringing was the absence of guards in the hangar. Breathing a little faster but still maintaining his casual pace, he stepped into the large open space where visiting ships were docked and looked about him. He saw the other ships clear as day, but his was gone. His eyes darted back and forth, double-checking and triple-checking...
He stared in disbelief. And then ran his tongue over his lower lip in angry realization. His ship was gone. Why would they do that? To keep him here. And why would they do that?
Well, this explained the absence of punishment, hostilities and such. If they were going down, they would do what they could to take him with them. After all, he was the last one to see the two Jedi, wasn't he? But the questioned remained. Whose brilliant idea was this? Uthar? Yuthura Ban's?
Probably the latter's. The former didn't seem to hold Jaq in as high regard as Yuthura did. And Yuthura would be damned if she was solely going to pay for her choices.
The gears spun rapidly in his head. She was a smart woman. So it was time to think hard and fast. She would expect him to go speak to the soldiers involved in docking procedures. Perhaps they would direct his questions to her, and she would personally have the pleasure of telling him how he would have to wait for Revan, patiently and fearfully, just like the rest of them. Of course, she would conveniently leave out the term: scapegoat.
"No way, baby." he said out loud. "No chance in hell."
What he needed now was leverage. A hostage? No. The Sith were not known for mercy. If this was the Republic he was dealing with, then yes. What else was there? He needed something to hold Yuthura at bay, while he got access to his ship, and flew the heck away from Korriban.
As quick as his mind worked, nothing sprung to mind. For a wild moment he considered threatening Master Uthar himself, but with the entire Academy and Monastery on edge...that would prove a fatal move. He stuck his hand in his pocket morosely. He felt something with somewhat sharp edges, something metal. His comm. link. He pulled it out slowly. He looked up ahead of him and grinned.
He punched in his contact numbers, and waited. He sat down just outside the hangar, with his chin tucked in his hand, whilst he drummed the fingers of the other hand against his legs.
Ten agonizing minutes later, the comm. link beeped.
With a lightning-like move, he held it up to his mouth. "Ges?"
A sultry female-sounding voice emanated from the device. "Ges is...busy."
He snarled into the comm. link. "Tell him to get his sorry head out of his ass and put him on."
She was not put off. "I'm sorry, who are you?"
"Sith."
He heard a rustle on the other end, and a more familiar voice croaked out. "Yes...?"
"Cool it. It's me, Jaq. I need information on someone."
"Jaq! My God, I haven't heard from you in ages! Why did you say "Sith"? You scared Jianna shitless. And where the hell are you!"
He stifled his impatience. "Don't ask me questions. I promise I will give you every gory detail if I get out of this alive. I'm on Korriban."
"Korri – !" yelled back Ges, and then more quietly, "Korriban? How?"
"No questions, Ges. Just tell me what you have on a Yuthura Ban."
A beat.
"Never heard of her."
"Cut out this bullshit and tell me."
"Why? Why is this so important? What's going on?"
Didn't he get it? Didn't he understand the urgency here? "Ges, please. I need whatever you have on her, and I need it fast. Now I know you're lying. You know exactly who she is. You have her history hidden in those files of yours. I'm in pretty deep here. Please."
He didn't know whether it was his voice or choice of words that did it. Ges relented, and gave way to some ground. "Do you know who she is? I can't just give you data on a whim...especially someone like this. We all report back to someone, you know."
"You wanna know then?" he sneered, "All right. You report to someone, Yuthura reports to someone. Her someone happens to be Uthar Wynn. His someone happens to be Revan. And somewhere underneath this entire sickening mess, I happen to have sprouted. Under normal circumstances, no one would give a damn about me because that's how I play the game. But I slipped. And I'm going to take the fall for part of it. If I was playing against the Republic – no biggie. But I'm not, am I?" His voice had reached a pitch he never knew it could attain. Did he sound panicked? He breathed in deep, and tried to keep a steady pace. "I'm little game to them, Ges. To gun me down is nothing. To me, however, it's a different picture."
"Oh."
"Get over to your console and pull her file up."
"Okay."
Jaq heard a shuffling sound, Jianna's voice in the background followed by an irritated yell on Ges' part and then a slam. Then Ges again, speaking to him this time. "Yuthura's an ex-Jedi."
"I need more than that."
"Hang on, hang on...I can only read so fast, you know?"
"Look at this, she was a slave on Sleyheyron once. Broke free and became a Jedi, left the Jedi, and became Sith. Relatives include one sister – several years younger, parents unknown –"
"Where's this sister?"
"On Coruscant. Well whaddaya know, she's Jedi too."
Jaq froze, but suppressing his rising hopes. "Is she aware of this?"
"What do you mean?"
A plan, a story of some-sort was taking shape in his mind, and he hurried to put it all together in time. "Communication. Did they ever speak to each other?"
"Looks like it...I don't know what they said to each other, but the last known communication they had was...three weeks ago. Whoever's assigned to cover her has got only this much. I'm sorry, Jaq, that's it."
The idiot sounded apologetic, thought Jaq almost ecstatically. I just might have enough to break out of this with my bones intact. "That's brilliant! Now get me a file transfer to my datapad."
"Ohh no."
"Ohh yes."
"Look, I have the authority to view this stuff, but letting it out in the open..."
"...could save my life."
"Or I could lose mine."
"Transfer the file. Destroy your console, grab what you need and lay low for a while. You've done it before. You have places to go. Options. I don't."
"If I see you, I'm going to kill you myself," muttered Ges.
Jaq grabbed his datapad from inside of his jacket. It began to beep, indicating that a file transfer was in process. "Let's hope you get the opportunity to do so. Thanks. I mean it."
Ges snorted. "Look, don't try to contact me for a while, okay? I'm going to be watched, including all my outgoing communications."
"Got it. Good luck."
"You too."
She was easier to find than he had anticipated. She wasn't even holed up in her chambers, working on...whatever it was she worked on. He'd gone back to his room before, grabbed the essentials and left the rest behind. He didn't want anyone to think he was planning on fleeing the coop so soon.
Jaq always carried two blasters. One tucked neatly in a holster where most save the utterly unobservant could see, and the other in separate pieces shoved into a thermos, a broken datapad and an old sonic sensor. He left his "display" blaster in his duffel bag and put together his backup, tucking it neatly under the sleeve near his forearm. It was a small fellow, but effective. And that was all he needed. Under the sleeve of his opposite arm, he strapped in the vial he had used on those damned Jedi earlier. Not too much juice left in that one. He'd have to use it as a last resort.
He sighed. Last resorts were becoming too common these days. Whatever happened to careful and discreet?
Gone out the window, he told himself. Now's the time for improvisation. Let's show the world what an innovative lad you can be.
As he walked closer to Yuthura, he saw her turn slowly, and smile, acknowledging his presence.
What's this, he thought? I though you didn't have time for me after your little calamity. Could it be that you know that I know...? God, let's not get all jittery. Calm down, you idiot. Think straight. Maybe, just maybe, we may not need to switch to plan B.
"Jaq, what a pleasant surprise. I've just finished meditating. What brings you here? Is it a matter of payment? I told you before, only half of what we promised you would be delivered to your account. That was the deal."
"Yuthura, where' my ship?" he asked slowly, pleasantly.
She touched her chest lightly, feigning ignorance. "How would I know?"
"I assumed you knew what went on in your Academy. You seem to be highly regarded here. Next to Uthar, that is."
"True, I suppose. But as for your ship...I don't know where it is."
"I need to leave Korriban. Perhaps you could provide me with another means of transport."
Her eyes flashed. "I couldn't do that."
"And why not?"
"I...don't want to." she answered, satisfied with her reasoning.
"Ah. You're taking me down too, is that it?"
She grinned. "It would give me great satisfaction."
"I can see your point," he nodded slowly, smiling.
The smile threw her off slightly. Her eyes darted back and forth, she was thinking. "What do you mean...?"
"Retribution is inevitable, isn't that what Uthar said? That's what you Sith are all about. I've picked up a thing or two here."
"What are you doing?" she asked, smiling uncertainly.
At least I have the old schutta on her toes. "I'm double-crossing the double-crosser."
She twisted her face as if to insinuate that he was bluffing.
"You wanna call it?" he asked.
"You dare to –"
Quit stalling, said a voice. You're in a Sith-invested hive. You can banter with words another day. Play your cards, sonny.
"Celia." he said slowly, allowing for the full effect of the name to take its hold over her.
She froze.
This was the break he needed. He grabbed the moment and jumped forward, and jabbed the needle into her neck. He pushed down slightly – if she got the full dose, his cards would prove useless. He pulled her close to him and spoke softly in her ear. "If you raise the alarm, Uthar will know. If you use any mind tricks on me, Uthar will know. And if he knows...she will die."
"How...?" she managed gasped out.
"Does it matter?"
"Killing me won't get...you...out," she moaned.
The toxins were pulsing through now. He knew that she was under considerable pain. He only hoped that her training would enable her to remain conscious. "You're not going to die...yet. You'll live long enough to ensure her survival."
"I'll kill you," she hissed.
"Listen sister, I know I'll have to die someday. But I'll be damned if it's through anything but old age...or directly through my own hand. You know I won't hesitate to kill you if I knew it would get me out. You know I don't give a damn about Celia. I'm not Republic. She could be burned alive for all I care." He paused, feeling her wince. "But she's my bargaining chip. If you let me out of here alive, I give you my word that she'll stay safe."
"Liar,"
"You spoke with her about...three weeks ago. Do you have any idea of what Uthar would do if he heard about this? One of his own turned traitor? Now I know you don't really fear your own death...but Celia's, that's another story isn't it?"
"I didn't turn traitor...and Celia...don't hurt."
"Stand up properly, come on." He propped her up against the wall and looked at her. She slumped forward but did not fall. "Now look at me." He lifted up her chin, meeting her gaze. "Be a smart girl. What do you honestly think Uthar is going to believe? This is far too convenient a situation for you to be anything but a traitor. That Jedi escaped about two weeks back. You spoke with your sister a week earlier. Do you catch my drift?"
"Not traitor. Not Celia."
"Honey, I don't care if you are or if you aren't." He slapped her face gently, to stop her from losing consciousness. "I'm going to ask you one important question. And I'm only going to ask you this once. Do you want to save your sister?"
She nodded, yes, her eyes looking pleadingly at him...either from the pain or concern.
"Good. Then you'll take me to your own private ship. You'll get me off of Korriban on it. I'll get on board, and leave this system for good. You will not send fighters after me. I have a failsafe. If I die, she dies. I'm the only one who has the codes to stop Uthar from receiving this information – and believe me – it's from a very reliable source." He winked.
She stood up straighter, apparently mustering whatever strength she had.
"Can you walk?" he asked. "On your own, that is."
"I can...torture you for the codes..."
"Do you honestly think I'll talk? I wouldn't give you the satisfaction. If I die, the only hope I have left is picturing you seeing the body of your dead sister. Now. Can you walk?"
"Yes."
They passed several corridors without calling too much attention to themselves. Yuthura's comm. link beeped twice, and twice, Jaq looked at her, warningly. She was not to speak to anyone without his permission. He'd felt her try to get into his mind a couple times, but they were feeble attempts, and he did not have to do make much of an effort to keep her out of it.
At certain points of this little walk, he would allow Yuthura to step ahead of him, as if she was leading him and not the other way around. It avoided unnecessary suspicion, especially around the patrolling guards. He studied her intently, alert to the slightest form of betrayal. But the toxin was doing its job well. He was equally impressed at how well she was holding up. Her sister must mean something to her. He wouldn't have expected that – not from a Sith. Thank goodness for that flickering flame of love within her, eh? What good luck it had brought him.
His suppressed conscience made a feeble attempt to resurface but he sat hard on it. Not now. I'll let you eat me later. I promise.
They stopped walking, and Yuthura walked over to a panel next to a large door. She was about to punch in something, when he quickly strode up to her. "I trust you're going to enter the code that gets this hangar open. If this door doesn't open as soon as you do so, you know what kind of happy ending'll follow."
She closed her eyes momentarily. Her fingers pressed buttons slowly. The doors parted. He saw the ship before them and smiled. She was beautiful. And probably equipped with stealth settings, laser turrets...the works.
"Now get in that damned cockpit." he said.
"Not going with you." she mumbled.
"Of course not," he rolled his eyes. "That console in there is locked. I'm not an idiot. Unlock it for me and you've done your part. Alright?"
Yuthura was barely keeping it together. She stumbled up the entry ramp, and sunk into the pilot's seat. She did was what necessary, all the while under his eye, and leaned back.
He nodded, satisfied. "You can go."
"And Celia?"
"Hey, I'm not Sith. If you keep your end of the deal, I'll keep mine."
She staggered out. He watched as she did so from the window for a few seconds. Jaq warmed up the engines, and leaned into the seat as the ship began to lift off the ground. He happened to look out the window again and saw Yuthura's form, unmoving, lie lifeless on the ground below him.