Note: Well, we're on the second-to-last of the "Korban episode" arc. At which point, the story will shift to a couple chapters of pure loose-end-wrap-up/character development/world building/minor story advancement while I try and plan out the next major episodic arc. I have some ideas as to characters and events I'd like to use, but nothing really concrete yet in terms of timeline or an actual story plan. Granted, I never planned for this entire episode, so… yeah. I did finally come up with what I consider a great final end to the actual story as a whole, but that's beside the point. I do not own Star Wars. Please review, comment, or criticize. And most of all, enjoy.
The Dark Return
Chapter 10
She should be dead. It took her a few seconds to reach that conclusion. She should be dead. She shouldn't still able to see or feel anything. A grenade was thrown right into her face and she hadn't gotten up any sort of Force barrier before it went off.
So how was she still alive?
A feeling in the Force, of a tremendous will and power drawing itself back, gave her the answer. Aelyndra looked down at the baby girl in her arms, felt her draw her presence back into herself, and realized that it had been Mia who had somehow saved them both. Her face broke out into a smile, and she started laughing to herself. There was a slight hysterical edge to it, but it was genuine and grateful and amazed. She took a moment to step over what was left of Korban's lackey, carefully keeping his ruined, burning form out of Mia's field of view, before she kissed the girl on the top of her head and whispered several praises into her ear.
She told herself to make sure to tell Solo and Fel that their daughter was an absolute prodigy of the Force.
While Korban's entrance had certainly been an affecting one, it had not been all that practical. The fact that he had to quickly dive back behind the door he'd destroyed as a dozen blasters poured fire in his direction was a testament to that. Jaina and Jag stood with the remains of the guard force, firing at Korban's cover that was now starting to glow and warp beneath the near-constant blaster fire. No one trusted explosives to not accidentally kill any of the people they were all trying to guard.
Suddenly, a cry of loss and rage rang out from behind the door, and Jaina saw a blur shoot past the opening and up the stairs. Her mind focused on the string of shouted expletives carrying down the steps before she saw several metallic spheres bounce into the room. She quickly sent them flying back out of the room with a quick application of telekinesis, and yelled at everyone to duck before the exploded and sent a gout of fire streaming over their collective heads through the hole in the door. As she got back up, she couldn't help but wonder what could have possibly happened that would send Korban running off like that.
While healing trances would normally be enough to at least get most practitioners of the Force back onto their feet after suffering even serious injuries, getting into a trance was difficult with a gunship taking potshots at you. A fact that Ben had been reflecting on for several minutes. He'd long since realized that whoever was piloting the gunship wasn't actually trying to kill any of them; he was more having fun. Making them dance was probably the term.
Then, a beacon of rage lit up the Force, and barely a minute later Korban was bursting out of the doors of the Senate Building, screaming at the pilot in a language Ben couldn't understand, but thought he recognized. It was an old Sith dialect he'd heard Vestara use on Korriban. The gunship swooped down and Korban leapt into it before it had even descended fully. It pulled back up and sped off.
"What was that about?" He asked no one in particular.
"One of them was killed," Vestara offered. "And Korban is not happy about that."
Korban was in the safehouse, kneeling next to Troan's body, and came the closest he'd come in a long time to actually weeping. They'd killed him. Those Jedi and their deserter pals, they'd killed him. A guy simply doing his job for people so much worse than he was, and they'd killed him. Respect all life his sac-
"Boss, we can't stay here. We got to go. Security, cops, Jedi are gonna be all over this place, and we don't want to-"
"Yeah. I got it Rory." Korban got his feet, and reached down to pluck a small chain from Troan's neck. A simple black obsidian ring was hung around it. Poor man. "Head for you place in town. I'll go for mine. We'll figure out what we do next when we're safe in." Rory took his leave, and Korban started to make his way to the one place he was almost certain the cops and Jedi wouldn't follow him through: the undercity. Still full of vong plants and gangs and unbelievably poor and desperate people that the rest of the planet had apparently agreed to consider as not existing so they could all sleep at night.
Korban could figure what he'd see down there. Violence, scavengers, gangs, the absolute dregs of society struggling to eke out something close to survival in what was supposed to be the grand seat of a great system of opportunity and power. Despite his anger and grief, he had to take a moment to smile to himself. All capitals of government had such places then. He'd been reared in such places. Time to go home for a few hours.
"You really think this is a good idea?" Luke asked Galen.
"It's the only option we have left, Skywalker. Ordinary security and ordinary soldiers won't keep Korban away from his targets. We just got lucky this time."
"What makes here more secure?"
"Now, if Korban wants his targets, he'll have to fight his way through a building full of Jedi."
They walked into the elevator and ascended from the asylum block.
"What makes you think he'll even come here in person? That he won't just bomb us like he did Tenel Ka?"
Galen dipped his head for a moment, but what he was thinking, Luke couldn't tell.
"Because we've made it personal, Skywalker. We killed one of his people. You remember why he was discharged from the Imperial Guard?"
Luke recalled the cursory briefing Galen had put together, explaining the man that was now tearing through Coruscant. He'd grow up in the slums as a criminal and joined the Imperial Guard to escape execution when he was 16. He'd been very good in the military, until his commander had inadvertently walked Korban and his men into an ambush. Korban had been one of the few who survived, and had murdered his commander on the basis of incompetence. The image of Korban nestled up to the body in the chair, putting his feet up on the man's severed head, still stuck in Luke's mind.
"He's not just going to want kill us, Skywalker," Galen said. "He's going to want to kick down our doors, break our limbs, and kill his targets in front of us so we know we failed before he cuts us open and watches as we bleed to death."
"Thank you for that charming mental image."
Korban walked into the small apartment he'd kept paid off for the times he needed to do work on Coruscant and was surprised to find it occupied.
"What you doing here, Pendrew?" He asked as he walked past the slightly graying Intelligence handler.
"I'm here with some… operational revisions." Pendrew said, giving Korban an askance look as the man stalked past him to throw his coat, armor, and shirt onto the small cot that served as his bed. Korban moved to the tiny fridge and drew out a bottle of liquor. He snapped the cap off and took a long quaff before turning back to look at Pendrew.
"Revisions, eh?" Korban walked back into the main room. "Like what?" He took another drink.
Pendrew sighed. "The higher-ups are calling blank slate. We're to discontinue all activity and report back for re-assignment."
It was so quite in the room that the sound of the bottle dropping through the air was audible before it shattered on the floor.
"You're kriffing joking, right? You've got to be joking." Korban said in utter disbelief.
"I'm not joking, Korban. We're done here."
"No. No, we are kriffing not done here." Korban said angrily as he paced aimlessly around.
"Yes, we are done here, Korban." Pendrew said firmly. "It's out of my hands. As far as the rest of the Division is concerned, we've already done enough to nearly jeopardize the entire war effort. And you've got no one to blame but yourself."
That made Korban stop.
"What did you expect, eh? You knew when you pulled me out of prison that you weren't putting me on payroll for my subtlety."
"What I expected, Korban, was for you to do your damn job." Pendrew hissed furiously, stabbing Korban in the chest with a finger. "I expected a degree of sanity and competence that you have made clear you don't have."
"You knew I didn't have much of the first one, boss." Korban spat back, making the term sound like an insult. "But you also knew I had a lot of the second."
"So explain to me why you went crazy and left every single one of your targets unharmed to check on a dead man?" Pendrew hadn't yelled. He didn't do that. His voice actually grew calmer as he got angrier, and now he sounded like he was the most serene man in the galaxy. He shook his head. "It doesn't matter why, you can't change it. We're done. Pack up your gear and make sure your associate is ready to leave by tomorrow morning."
Korban turned and slapped the underside of the small metal table, sending it flying into the wall.
"You fraking kidding me, Pendrew!? Those Jedi schutas killed Troan, and you expect me to just walk away?!"
"Yes, that's what I expect, Korban!" Pendrew was doing the one thing he never did now. He was yelling. "I expect you to because if you don't, it's our necks on the line. We don't pull out now, the Council can have us executed for treason."
Korban turned away and stormed back into his room, dropping to his knees and descending into uncontrollable, hysterical laughter.
"Force's sake, Korban!" Pendrew roared in anger and desperation. "Are you listening to me?"
Korban took a long, deep breath, and his laughter slowly devolved into a breathless chuckling.
"Yes sir. I'm listening." He reached into a bag near his cot, and came back into the main room. "I get you're worried, but no one is going kill us for treason." His face twisted into a truly insane smile. "We'll do the killing." His hand shot out and shoved a large knife deep into Pendrew's chest, straight through his ribs and heart.
Anji could tell something was terribly wrong, so she had not moved more than a foot from Allana's side in the last few days. Allana herself wasn't sure what was happening any more. She'd received the news of what might have happened to her mother, and had quickly searched for her in the Force. She hadn't felt anything. No presence, no gentle, reassuring reach or touch. And while that did not necessarily mean the worst, that maybe her mother had to hide herself completely in all forms for her own safety, that possibility did little to reassure her.
She'd heard word that the man who'd attacked her mother had come here to Coruscant. That he'd broken into Uncle Jag and Aunt Jaina's safehouse, held their daughter hostage. That he'd fought and beaten Ben and his old, scheming girlfriend, and the mysterious, oddly friendly sith. That he was the most deplorable type of killer. That he was in all likelihood going to come here, because the other sith had killed one of his people.
She'd thought long and hard about it, and knew what she would do if she ever met him.
Yeah, Mia can telekinetically block explosions with the Force when she's barely eight months old. My advice? Don't forget about her. She might become important later on. Or, you know, more important than she already is. I debated for a long time about whether I wanted to toss Allana into the deep end of the Korban arc, and finally decided to just go for it and see how well I can make it work.