Chapter 35

Ben Kewi lent on his bo-staff, tapping at the datapad insistently. He glanced up at the freighter captain, a heavyset Patrolian. The man was leaning against his ships ramp, a long cigar clamped between his teeth. Ben stroked his sideburns, studying the ship.

"You said that you came through the Kessel Run, and are hauling a load of hyperfuel.", he asked.

The Patrolian puffed out a cloud of smoke. "Yep."

"Move your ship to Docking Bay 5.", Ben said, handing the manifest back to the pilot. "The technicians there will unload for you."

Immediately, the patrolian stood up and sauntered into the ship. Ben rolled his eyes and turned back to walk down the passageways. Another dirty smuggler. He had seen too many of the galaxy's scumbags during his commission. Throughout the past twenty years, the man had arrested over four hundred felons. The son of Steven Kewi, Ben had followed his father into the military's ranks. With both hard work and determination, he had eventually made it into the Menach Guardsmen. He stared out of the hanger, gazing across the desert's dark sand beyond the golden gates. His military attire creaked loudly as he stepped towards the next platform. The traditional armour consisted of heavy metal plates, crafted from the golden metal mined onworld. The lavishly decorated greaves, breastplate and gauntlets glinted in the sunlight. Ben's favourite part of the armour was the distinguishable helmet, a full-faced, cylindrical piece of equipment with white lights glowing from the T-shaped visor.

His weapon hung from his back, the elite bo-staff. A two-metre, metal staff with intricate engravings running up and down the length of it, the bo-staff was a weapon unique to Menach Guardsmen. A spoon-shaped contraption on the end could catch and redirect the energy of blaster bolts. The redirected energy could be slung back a target in lethal sonic attacks. The other end of the weapon held a razor-sharp spearhead. It was not Ben's only weapon though. He also had two long knives, held in sheaths strapped to his thighs, and the massive, oval shield slung on his left arm.

With the Pit Trials only a few days away, security was especially tight over the entire city of Corinth. Ben and a squad of his best had been sent to help the regular security forces secure the city's facilities. They were currently stationed at the shipping terminals on the northwest quadrant of the city. The 'Port' was the busiest platform. Thousands of contestants and civilians were landing on Menach to watch the contests, and each one needed to be processed through here. It was rumoured that several shady characters had been reported around the planet, but no evidence had been brought forward by the populace. None the less, the monarchy had therefore the planet's security be stepped up. Every ship had to be checked before people could exit and step foot on the Menach's burnt soil. Ben and his squad were spread around the Port, checking the passenger's identification slips and belongings, looking for anything suspicious. The facility was busier than he expected. Scheduled ships landed every five minutes or so, along with the smaller, personal ships that landed as they pleased. Every single vehicle had to be searched. He started towards the nearby main office when he happened to look out the hanger and see a small, T-shaped fighter coming in to land. Ben walked slowly over the ship as it touched down, landing gear clunking against the metallic floor. He looked up at the cockpit as it creaked opened.

"Can I help you, Captain?"

The deep voice came from a salt-and-pepper haired man, lower face covered by a green scarf. Wearing light, olive coloured robes on his chest and a ragged black cloak draped over his shoulder, the man seemed to radiate darkness. Ben's eyebrows rose slightly behind the white glow of his helmet's visor at the judgemental tone in the man's voice.

He nodded curtly, knowing that the man couldn't see his expression. "I need to see your identification and to search your ship if you don't mind."

The scarf crinkled slightly, and the lines around the man's eyes narrowed dangerously. A yellowish tinge crept around their edges of his iris. He outstretched his hand, waving it slightly in the air, "I do mind. You will not search my ship, and my identity is confidential."

Ben frowned, his hand closing around the knife hilt on his right leg. "I'm sorry, but if you resist, then I'm going to have to take you into custody."

A heavy thump sounded as the man leapt from the cockpit, boots slamming into the deck. He took a step closer to Ben, staring straight into the glowing T-visor. The Guardsman noticed slight yellow tinge creep closer to the man's iris. "Your mind is strong, Captain. But trust me. You do not want to annoy me.", he said, his hand closing around a cylindrical object hanging on his belt.

Ben pulled the knife from it sheath in a single smooth motion, dragging the hilt towards the base of the man's skull. The man ducked the blade, leaping back across landing zone with surprising agility. He pulled the cylinder to his hand and brought his thumb to a small red button. A green blade erupted from the cylinder. It was a lightsabre, Ben realised. The Captain's smile faded slightly, a worm of worry beginning to creep into his stomach. He grabbed the other knife from his leg, and flipped it, so the blade's tip rested in his hand. Spinning on his heel, he threw both blades at the dark figure. The knifes spun through the air, aimed at the centre of the dark figure. At the last possible second, the man leapt up, over the projectiles in a single motion. With a grunt, Ben grabbed the shield from his back, slipping his arms through the arm straps. Tugging, the round oval split in half and clamped against the forearm gauntlets. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the bo-staff and got ready for the intense duel ahead.

One of the many benefits of Menachi metal; it was lightsabre resistance. To refine the mined ore, the metal was dipped in pure magma. The intense heat bonded the ore, making the dense metal almost impervious. Short contact with a lightsabre left the metal completely unharmed.

Spinning the spear, Ben dragged the sharp tip towards the man's glowing blade. The metallic spike was blocked, but the man's eyes lost the confident aura. An air of mild slight surprise surrounded the man as he stared at the resisting alloy. Ben brought up the shield clamped to his left arm, slamming it into his opponent's nose. The bo-staff came next, the spoon-like head thrusting under the emerald blade. About a centimetre from his ribs, the man's hand shot out and grabbed the curved head. Ben pulled it back quickly before the man could gain a good grip and clicked the trigger. His opponent went flying back into the hardened hull of his starfighter as the sonic energy stored in the staff was released. Groaning, he flumped on the ground. Ben took a tentative step forward, spear tip pointed at the still form. A loud groan suddenly erupted from the man and he leapt to his feet. Miraculously, the scarf had somehow remained around his face. The two men circled each other warily, one spinning his blade in small circles, the other gripping his weapon tightly. Ben hefted the bo-staff and reversed his grip before throwing it at man's sword hand. The man blinked and took a half-step to the left, the thin blade missing by the width of a razor. Ben charged forward but was sent flying back as the man shoved out his hand. Ben landed on his feet, as he was taught during his training. Looking back up, he fell to the floor to avoid the glowing sabre spinning towards him. The right shield dislodged from the gauntlet, rolling unevenly across the deck. Suddenly, a blur appeared above him and he threw his shield up to block the man's emerald blade. The lightsabre didn't move from the shield. The fear in Ben's stomach burrowed deeper. The man had found the weakness of the metal. The continuous heat would melt straight through the shield and plunge into Ben's body. He closed his eyes as the weakening metal creaked ominously, then finally, it snapped. The heat of the lightsabre slashed through the helmet, scarring Ben's face. His screams echoed around the hanger as the burns seared deeper.

The breath of the man brushed against his ear. "Listen here Captain. You do not want to try and find me. As you have seen, I am not a man to confront. Tell your fellow Guardsmen for me. I will not be stopped. I have my agenda. I will find my target."

Ben felt himself slipping out of consciousness. He watched as the man ran towards the exit of the 'Port'. He painfully closed his eyes. But suddenly he remembered something. Was the final flash of light… red?

Caloc limped off the elevator, leaning heavily on Telle's shoulder. He glanced around him, studying the bridge of the Liberty. A groan filtered out his throat as they walked past the lines of hardworking, uniformed men. Officers, he thought grimly. That meant protocol, something he was not renowned for. One of the officers, a tall, moustached man, turned around to look at the two young people limping across the catwalk. A tiny smile creased the serious expression on his face before he turned to bark at one of the younger men. Immediately, the young technician hurried over and took Caloc's weight off of Telle. The moustached man addressed the lieutenant first, placing both hands on her shoulders.

"Chan, are you ok?", he asked briskly.

Telle nodded matching the formal expression on her father's face. "Of course, sir. Bit disappointed about my cruiser, but I'm just grateful for my life.", she turned and gestured at the padawan slumped awkwardly in the chair behind her. "Admiral, I'd like you to meet Caloc, the Jedi I told you about."

The man looked down at Caloc, moustached twitching almost unperceptively, as if trying not to smile at his daughter's words. He straightened up, standing at attention, "Master Jedi, I'm extremely thankful to you for saving my daughter's life. I am Admiral Whiluff Yularen, but you can refer to me Yularen if you prefer."

Caloc smiled weakly, "Oh, so you're the father of this stubborn girl. She is quite handful, sir. You raised a spitfire. She wouldn't listen to me at all when I entered the bridge of her ship."

Yularen smiled kindly at the injured boy, "She's a Calacran. They are known for being overly stubborn. Once she trusts you though, she'll be loyal to a fault."

Telle frowned, "Not to a fault, dad. It's not like I'm a droid."

Yularen grew serious, the smile fading. "So, may I ask why you are here, Master Jedi? I must admit that both you and your companion's arrival, though welcome, was very unexpected."

"Oh, actually I'm not a Master yet. I'm still a padawan.", Caloc corrected. He tried to sound distracted, but he was actually studying the man closely. There was something in the kind eyes that made him think the man could be trusted with his many secrets. "My mission is simple. I need to hunt down a Jedi traitor. My Master and I were searching for clues when I heard your broadcast and came to help.", he looked around him at the strange surroundings, "May I ask where my men are? I still need to pay them."

"We never left the Liberty.", came a voice from behind him. Caloc turned around. Standing there, dressed in grey, camouflaged military fatigues, was Mark Antilles. He smiled kindly at the injured padawan, "Thanks to that stunt of yours, we got the job done. My men and I decided to join this admiral and his fleet. We are now part of the Republic Special Forces."

Caloc raised an eyebrow, "Why?"

Mark grinned good-naturedly, "Because business is slow, and this seems to be the best way to get some more action. I think we can find new members of the Long Horns here too.", he leaned down to whisper, "Plus the pay is really good."

Caloc smiled, "Good to hear, Mark. Did a message come through from Akka at all?"

Before Mark could answer, Yularen clicked his fingers, and Caloc looked at him. "Sorry to interrupt, Padawan Tiac. Just wondering if there was perhaps a reason why you had to go to the Leogam outpost specifically."

Caloc nodded, "Of course, Admiral. My Master and I encountered our target on Taris and discovered evidence regarding where his recent travels had recently taken him. My Master is going to meet me at the outpost. But I also have an expert on Taris looking for the man. She was meant to contact me if she found anything. Mark?"

Mark grabbed a holodevice from his belt. "This came through. It's a recording of a message for you."

He pressed the round button on the side of the device and a tiny, blue hologram of Akka appeared, looking out at the group.

"Caloc, if you are receiving this, then I may have something on this target of yours. I couldn't find anything from my own resources, so I went to ask some of the other information brokers in the area. I have good news!", the hologram paused as she looked down at a datapad. "There have been a few suspicious activities on Menach. Firstly, there have been rumours of a kidnapping in the alleyways. Then, a man wielding a lightsabre was seen attacking a Menach guardsman in one of the arrival ports. The broker I spoke to can be found on Menach, in the capitol city Corinth. He even claims that he knows where the perpetrators are hiding. But he didn't give me the location.", she looked up, "He wants to meet with you. Says he has a deal for anyone wanting the intel."

Caloc was leaning forward as far as he could, mumbling a phrase under his breath. "Don't say it. Don't say it."

Akka's recording continued unabated, "His broker name is 'the Raven'. Owns a large establishment on the eastern side of the city, the First Barrel."

Caloc slammed his fist into the arm of the chair. "She said it."

"Said what?", asked Yularen.

"The Raven."

Telle looked at the men around her. "So, you do need to go to Menach then?"

"Looks that way", Caloc said, rubbing his forehead. He then stopped, realising the tone behind the question, "Can we get there in time?"

Telle looked at her father, then placed a gentle hand on Caloc's shoulder. "There is a slight complication. A transmission came over the open frequency recently, directly from the monarchy. The King is closing the system. No new ships can enter or exit the planet. Says that a dangerous man attacked a captain and escaped into the city."

Caloc looked up. "Like Akka mentioned. A Jedi attacking a guardsman."

Mark nodded. "Looks like you've found your target."

"Too bad we cannot enter the system", said Yularen.

Caloc frowned thoughtfully, then smiled, "You're right, you can't. But I already have the credentials I need to get in. My Master and I can get to the surface despite this. If you can just get me to the next system over, my droid and I will take it from there."

Telle's head spun around to stare at him, dumbfounded, "But you can't just leave. We discussed this. You're not healed yet."

"Yeah", Caloc frowned at her, "I'm not quite healed. But I will be by the time we get there."