Chapter 8

Yetoom Na Uun

A mingled series of emotions raced through Leyla's mind as she set her StealthX down in the indicated hangar bay and began her post-flight check with her astromech; the droid carried the nickname 'Fate' after the last two characters of his serial number: F-8. Fate was pretty new, he had been a gift from Luke and Mara when she was Knighted nearly two years ago. Before then, Leyla had simply made due with full manual controls, but she suspected that her father in particular was uneasy about the idea of her flying around on her own. It was perhaps only natural though that her mother and stepfather would be less concerned, given how young the two of them had been during their military careers.

And even if Fate was just a droid- and she was positive that either Artoo or Threepio would take offense to such a phrase, should either ever hear her utter it- it was nice to have some form of company during those long flights. Unfortunately, Fate could provide little insight on her current state of conflicting feelings regarding her decision to travel to Yetoom Na Uun after all, upon leaving the planet Knores where she had met with the very kind, very helpful, and all-too oily Duke Viholn. Indeed, it was Viholn's mention of having briefly encountered Vulcor some five years ago that brought to mind his demand of her to avoid the disreputable and infamous planet of the Senex Sector.

She knew Vulcor was just trying to look after her, but it still rankled her that he would attempt to control her mission like that. And then she stopped and vaguely wondered how she would have felt had her father, or even her great-uncle Luke made such a stipulation to her going and, as she honestly contemplated it, didn't think it would have bothered her as much coming from one of them.

The implications of that fact flitted around her head for a moment before she firmly shut the door on the whole line of thinking and, as though to emphasize her seriousness on the matter, she punched the manual canopy release and then twisted around in the cramped cockpit to reach the small storage box behind her seat where her lightsaber remained stashed away while she traveled. "Power down the ship, Fate; keep yourself on standby," she murmured before pulling herself out of the ejection seat and sitting on the edge of the matte-black fighter and turning around, clipping her lightsaber to her belt as she slid gracefully and dropped five meters to the duracrete hangar floor.

Glancing around, the first thing Leyla noted were the signs in Basic and a few languages she didn't recognize directing all incoming traffic to the customs booth to pay docking fees and for information on the planet. The fact that this place- more of an open-secret shadowport than anything- expected people to submit to a full customs inspection before leaving the spaceport told Leyla a lot about just how open the secret was- and that far too many of the officials and nobility she'd spoken with in the past three weeks probably knew precisely where and what this place was. And that was, of course, a slave world.

But for all the tip-toeing around the term during her travels among these self-centered and self-righteous peoples, it still came down to the fact that Vulcor had been right. The Senex-Juvex region had remained autonomous through the vast majority of recent galactic history, in much the same manner as the Hapes Consortium- through economic isolation and strong militarism when need called for it. They were fortunate enough here to have been overlooked by the Yuuzhan Vong, though Leyla wondered how isolationist they would be today had that not been the case. Their military strength was fierce but small, in the grand scheme of the size of the Yuuzhan Vong fleets, of the size of the Galactic Alliance Defense Force.

But if the Houses pooled their resources, they could probably put up a decent fight against any one or even two of the GA fleets though.

She wore an anonymous black flight suit, but pulled a plain dark cloak from the travel case in the lower storage compartment of her ship, pulling the hood up over her dark hair and keeping her face in shadow. Closing the compartment with a snap and checking her utility belt for her comlink and lightsaber, she turned and exited the small hangar bay and, with a dry smile, headed in the direction of 'customs.'

And then she slowed marginally as she passed the open door to the hangar bay two down and across from her own as a tingle raced across her spine. It wasn't a sense of danger; more of… being observed.

Displaying no outward sign of her awareness of the attention, Leyla drifted against the close wall and checked her cloak discreetly even as beings of a dozen different species passed her by on the way to or from their own ships. She made her way to the counter and stepped to the back of the short line and waited until she was summoned forward by a grimy and bored-looking middle-aged man. He glanced up at her, paused, shot her another skeptical look, and then asked dully, "Bay number?"

"Y-Eight-One-Four."

He input the information in a computer and then scowled slightly. "Fighter craft?"

"De-militarized," she lied smoothly and smiled sweetly. Few people outside of the military or the Jedi order would recognize the full power of the weaponry on a StealthX anyway.

Looking as though he was unsure whether to believe her, he just shrugged and tapped his screen. "It's a two-hour wait on an inspections crew," he informed her. "Once your personal effects and vehicle are cleared, you'll receive authorization to leave the spaceport provided you sign the appropriate waivers and-"

"Or," Leyla said firmly, "I'm guessing I can just slip you an extra few-hundred credits and get my authorization now?" He blinked up at her, expression skeptical once more. "How's three-hundred?"

"You got that kind of money, girlie?" She fought the urge to grimace at the name and just smiled winningly at him. His eyes shifted. "Five-hundred."

"Four-hundred and I'll forget you called me 'girlie' should our paths cross when I head out again."

Maybe he was smarter than he looked. Reading the deadly seriousness in her eyes, he swallowed and nodded before tapping his screen a few more times and then reaching for a coded chip which he passed under a scanner and handed to her across the counter. "Enjoy your stay."

Feeling a faint sense of satisfaction at her ability to at least appear threatening to the local yahoos, Leyla stepped away from the window and followed the signs along the wall to the spaceport exit. She passed the chip under the proper scanner, waited for it to flash her clearance and for the guard to wave her along, and she stepped out into the dusty daylight of Yetoom Na Uun.

"Smooth move in there."

Her sneakiness apparently could have used some work, however. She spun and eyed the young man who was leaning casually against the dirty wall by the door, watching her with poorly-veiled amusement. "Yours was smoother, it seems," she recovered from her surprise and wondered how he could have made it out ahead of her. A slow smile touched his features which were handsome in a rugged sort of way. Several days of facial hair growth made it difficult for her to accurately guess his age, but she still suspected he was under thirty. A thin scar ran below his left eye and under his ear, disappearing into his hairline.

Filing his appearance away for future reference, she turned again and continued walking down the crowded street, no clear destination in mind besides ditching her pursuit. Pursuit, however, was not to be deterred. He hurried alongside her and spoke nonchalantly close by her ear, as though they were friends or at least old acquaintances. "A brave girl, to come to a place like this all on her own."

She rolled her eyes, though the hood of her cloak hid the action. "A brave boy to be following me," she returned sharply.

And much to her chagrin, he chuckled lightly and remained steadfastly by her side as they passed shady tapcafs and restaurants, and mechanic and maintenance shops for those having ship troubles or needing spare parts before leaving Yetoom Na Uun. "Oh dear, and I've already made you angry," he sighed. "Perhaps you'll just relieve me of an arm with that handy little light-sword of yours…"

He trailed off abruptly as she ducked down a side alley and dragged him with her before shoving him against the wall of one of the buildings. "What do you want?" she hissed, keeping an eye on the steady stream of passersby to ensure that no one noticed their little altercation.

His demeanor shifted abruptly and became suddenly serious; the jovial twinkle left his eye, and he straightened and met her eye steadily. "Your attention- do I have it?"

"Obviously."

"Good. Because I think we can help one another, Leyla Solo-Fel."

Denying her identity would have been awfully petty at this point, she supposed. "And if I don't want your help?"

"Then you run home, file your report, and leave Senex for the next sorry soul to declare a lost cause."

"And what is it that you want?"

He sized her up for a moment. "A mutually beneficial goal, I think- I want you to help me determine who it is who wants me dead."

For a long time, Leyla just stared at him, looking undoubtedly foolish in her incredulity before she finally managed, "Who are you?"

A faint smile touched his lips. "I am the Baron of Korezhia, high-born son of Knores, second generation removed from the House Araba, third removed from the House Pilor, and fourth from the House Elegin; in the common man's vernacular, that makes me the ascendant prince of the House Viholn and heir to the holdings of that family on Knores. But you can call me Ta'yen."

X-X-X-X

Sullust

"You didn't tell me that Niuk Niuv was part of this whole parade," Han grumbled as the Falcon maneuvered into the grotto-like opening of the half-underground public docking bay. Given the toxic air of Sullust's surface, they would still need breath-masks between the ship and the turbolifts that would take them down into the lower levels of the tunnels, but it was greatly preferable to being forced to wear the masks all the time.

Leia nodded indulgently and shot a wry glance to Lando over her shoulder. "I apologize for not paying closer attention to the local politics on Sullust, dear, what with Jedi training, Jedi Knighthood, family gatherings…"

"Fine, fine, you get a pass on this one. I'm only saying though- with worms like Niuv influencing society, it's no wonder this place is on a steep decline." In the chair behind Leia, Nien Nunb began chittering away quickly. "Exactly," Han commented idly as he swung his precious ship around to her final position before setting her down smoothly. "When the locals start running off to places like Kessel, you know you have a problem."

"Hey now," Lando frowned, "Kessel's a changed place, Han ol' buddy."

"Tell that to Kyp," Han muttered, conceding the fact that his weeks spent in the spice mines paled in comparison to the nine years Kyp had been there. "Anyway, the point is that- whoa," he leaned away as the comm speaker burst to life and the fast and unnaturally high-pitched tones of a sullustan flight controller filled the cockpit. "You're on, buddy," he unfastened his crash-webbing and gestured Nien to the chair so he could speak on comm. While he did so, Han pulled Leia aside and wrapped her up in a gentle embrace. "You take me to the nicest places."

She pecked his cheek and grinned cheekily. "You flew us here, flyboy."

"Maybe I'll just relax on the way out and let you be captain."

Her answering smile was wicked. "Maybe I'll just relax and let Lando and Nien fly the Falcon…"

She laughed quietly but delightedly at Han's answering scowl and Lando's exclamation of 'Hey!'

X-X-X-X

Csaus

If going through his parents' old house on Csilla had made Jag wistfully reminiscent, then carefully picking his way through the abandoned estate of a high syndic of the Inrokini family made him bitter and angry. Ashik had expressed his reservations against returning to the place where Jag, Soontir, and Formbi had spent nine infuriatingly tedious months confined, but in the absence of any indication that Cem had ever returned to Csilla, Csaus seemed like the only other reasonable prospect for any sign of what had become of him- of course, that only assumed that his disappearance somehow tied in to the actions undertaken by him, Zekk, Tahlia, and Ashik while searching for the Fels, as Jaina seemed to think it did.

Ashik had disapproved, but their contact- a nephew of Formbi- had passed along what they would need to access the place and informed them that it had not been reoccupied by the Inrokini family. Instead, it was left empty and desolate, a reminder of the shame brought upon them all by the actions of one rogue syndic.

Csun'abr'inrokini had not endeared himself to anyone through his actions. While a growing number of chiss at the time had expressed discontent with the Fels' presence in the Ascendancy and with human representation in the Galactic Alliance, it was a very small minority who had actually sought their demise in the process. And by merely imprisoning them- at the cost of the rest of his father's crew aboard his Corellian Corvette, Jag remembered bitterly- the syndic had firmly established himself a criminal in the Ascendancy and had also condemned a number of the co-conspirators to discovery by leaving the evidence of their treachery intact.

And like a coward who has just realized that he's estranged any and all powerful friends and allies, Csun'abr'inrokini fled once he was discovered, once it became apparent that Cem, Ashik, Zekk, and Tahlia were coming for him.

Perhaps it was wrong to say that he hadn't endeared himself to anyone- if nothing else, Jag was grateful that the syndic had chosen to run, rather than take the extra few minutes to first execute his captives.

"How fares the House Inrokini today?" Jag idly asked Chaf'reen'inyi who walked by his side, hand resting on his charric holstered at his side. Behind them, Ashik made no pretense of concealing his caution, and carried his weapon as his glowing eyes darted into every shadowed corner.

"Better than the Chaf family, politically speaking," Freeni returned with a trace of sardonic humor in his voice. Indeed, with the death of the elderly Formbi two years prior, the Chaf family had been downgraded from Ruling Family status given the lack of direct lineage in Formbi's descendants. "Then again, they will never fall from power, much as the Nuruodo family will always claim dominance on their own sector of society."

Jag's brow furrowed- the Nuruodos had a firm hand in military matters, but the Inrokinis had controlled less-vital aspects of the economy, he thought. "Is there no other poised to take control of the communications industry, should the Inrokini line be broken?"

Freeni's smile was sly. "Not communications, Master Fel- science."

"Science?" he repeated skeptically. "I don't remember anything about that."

"Because, Master Fel, your family did not possess the power in the Ascendancy during the early days of the great invasion that you would later hold. By your time, the project was ended; failed."

Jag swallowed. "Alpha Red."

"Even the Ascendancy has its dirty secrets," Freeni admitted shrewdly. "The ability to wage war outside our borders was, perhaps, revolutionized by your Mitth'raw'nuruodo, but he by no means held the monopoly on it. Did you never wonder where the pathogen came from? Such a thing could never be publicly approved by the Ruling Families as you well know."

"Then who commissioned it?"

The chiss shrugged. "I do not know. Perhaps no one does. But it was the Inrokinis who purportedly developed it and delivered it to the scientists of the Republic." His sly smile became an almost feral grin. "As the story goes, once the project was destroyed and deemed a failure, the family had all of the scientists who worked on it summarily executed- for their failure or for their silence. Possibly both." He paused. "No, the Inrokini family has more hidden secrets than just a single traitorous syndic."

That much was becoming painfully obvious.

"Come on," Jag muttered, "there's nothing here. Let's go."

X-X-X-X