Chapter Three: Digs (Part Three)
"Can anyone explain to me… just what the hell is going on?"
Yerrig's words stung the ears of every enforcer wearing a comm, the majority of which had gathered at the mouth of the excavation site. The mountain had quieted, but the workforce had not. Panicked slaves rushed from the opening into the sights of the armed guards. Their weapons raised alongside their extended palms, the escaping individuals had no choice but to stop.
The sparks of revolution died in Sector Dorn along with the majority of its inhabitants, but the explosive shock affected the other sectors, shaking their foundations and crumbling their supports. No one was sure of the cause, only that to remain underground meant death. The enforcers eagerly eyed the entrance to the mines, pouring over every detail of every individual that passed into their sights. When two battered and bleeding adults emerged alongside their child, the guards believed they could get some answers.
And enforcer cast his helmed gaze upon the Velash family. "You three!"
"Please, you have to help them," the father begged.
"Not until we get some answers. Yerrig's orders."
"They are in no condition to answer questions!" the father declared through gritted teeth. "We are the last survivors of Sector Dorn. If want information, you get them some damned help!"
The guard gave in to the father's demand, leading them away from the bedlam to a place of care. A feeling of relief washed over the father, even if he began to see the world around him blur. His feet ached against the stern ground, but he'd not falter before he knew his family was out of harm's way. But he knew the threat of harm still loomed over them all, so long as Yerrig had questions.
Lorrik's eyes opened, the unnatural light of the iridescent ceiling lights beaming down upon him. The flat of his back rested uncomfortably against a medical bed inside an unfamiliar room. Regaining his senses, the boy looked to his right to see his mother resting, a bandage encircling her left arm. He looked to his left to see only an empty bed. Hushed murmurs emanated from the hall outside. A frosted window made up the majority of the wall lying beyond the child's feet. Lorrik counted four figures. As the child struggled to sit up, one of the figures was being escorted away by the other three. In no time, no one remained. Only his mother and himself, and the silence.
Lorrik's father sat in a darkened room, beset by armed guards behind his uncomfortable chair. He had been waiting, basking in silence and shadows. Stewing in them. Bandages wrapped his cranium, covering his right eye. With his left, the father saw his silhouette planted upon the wall when the door behind him crept open with a shrill squeak. Slow, measured footsteps impacted against the hard floor one by one until a man stood directly in front of the father's gaze. It was Yerrig.
"I want to know… EXACTLY… what happened in the mines today."
The father kept his good eye straightened, "Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. We followed the line. We worked on the line. Everything was going fine, until…"
"Until?"
"Until I dropped my mining tool," the father explained. "It struck the ground, shattered its casing. The ordeal caught the guards' attention. One of the others took advantage. Took a chunk of rock. Assaulted a guard. Others joined in. I just wanted to protect my family."
"One of my men is assaulted with a rock… OF COURSE! That explains why there were reports of cave ins in three different sectors! You're not giving be anything here Velash!"
"One of the men attacking the guards, tried to take his blaster, they fought over it, blindly fired around them, accidentally struck a power cell, it must have been placed near a fault, thing explodes, caves start shaking, rocks start falling, my family barely makes it out alive. There! That's all I know!"
"How do I know you and your family didn't have anything to do with this little… uprising in Sector Dorn…"
"We were just transferred to the line! It was our son's first day, we wouldn't do anything to risk-"
"Exactly. Father, wants to see his son protected. Colludes with fellow slaves to stage a rebellion. Isn't that right?"
"I would never-"
The father reeled as Yerrig's back hand struck his cheek. "Do NOT lie to me." Yerrig placed a hand to his ear. "Everyone. Search the homes of every worker assigned to Sector Dorn. Now!" Yerrig returned to the father, gripping the arms of his chair, staring the man directly in the eye. "I will find out if there's more to this than you are saying. I will find out if-"
Yerrig stopped. There was a chatter in his ear. "Sir, there's an unscheduled vessel landing outside."
"Outside? What do you mean?"
Yerrig stormed from his domicile into the company of his league of enforcers, who had their weapons trained on the starship that had inconveniently landed in his courtyard. Large and imposing. Black and gray. A Fury-class interceptor.
The entrance ramp lowered, and a lone figure began his casual descent. A Human in a vibrant red coat over a suit of battle armor. The young adult possessed a pristine image in both garb and face, fair skin unburdened by toil, short blond hair unburned by the passing breeze.
A pair of Yerrig's enforcers surged forward, intent on impeding the intruder's advance. The man in the red coat slipped between them, politely pushing them aside with his hands, caring little for their threats, or their weapons. The intruder calmly pressed forward, spotting Olto Yerrig amongst his entourage.
"I presume you to be in charge of this operation," the advancing figure stated. He was utterly smooth and polite. Soft yet utterly dominating in his tone and presence.
"I don't know who you are, but-" Yerrig spoke up.
"Oh, you know exactly who I am. The more prudent question would be, why am I here? Well, I am here representing a very powerful man. A man interested in peacefully acquiring one of your assets."
"A Sith. You must be interested in my crystals."
The red-coated Human let out a soft chuckle. "Whatever it is you're digging for, it serves us no purpose. What you seek is deemed valuable in measures of pithy factors, not true merit. No, my master is interested in something else. Someone else."
"We're in the middle of something here. I'll kindly ask you to leave, before my men are forced to do something most unkind," Yerrig threatened. A smile refused to leave the Sith's face.
"Tell me about the incident, earlier today."
"I never mentioned any incident."
"No. No you didn't. I'd like to meet with the survivors."
"If you think you can just-" Yerrig mumbled before the Sith planting his firm hand upon his shoulder. The entourage immediately reacted, raising and aiming their weapons at the Sith.
The red-coated figure tightened his grip. "If you want to keep your loses for today confined to your workforce," the Sith whispered, "I'd suggest you take me to the survivors."
Yerrig hesitantly waved for his men to lower their weapons.
The father saw his outline planted upon the wall once more when the door behind him crept open with a shrill squeak. Slow, measured footsteps impacted against the hard floor one by one until a man stood directly in front of the father's gaze. It was someone unfamiliar. A lithe, vibrantly garbed Human knelt down in front of him, locked his gaze with his own.
"I'd like to know more about your son."
