Marin was warned and ready when Vitor triggered the alarm, but she didn't know what the reaction would be here in the main palace chamber, where the long feast and entertainment had wound down and the two Hutts looked like they were finally ready to start negotiating.
Marin had already taken stock and knew what she planned to do. Up on the dais right now were the Hutts; herself, Nat, and Leegish hidden inside their bulky Nikto armor; Vedo's two Zeltron dancers and the Rodian-faced droid they'd come all this way for. It was, she thought, as ideal a set-up as she'd get, but when she saw a male Twi'lek in black robes and two Weequay guards hurrying along the chamber's edge toward the dais, she knew things were going to get tricky. As they approached she spotted some of Soergg's other guards quietly filing toward the nearest exit. The alarm had gone off alright, and the palace was about to go on lockdown.
It was now or never. Marin judged Nat in the Force and whispered to the Squib strapped on her back, "Get ready."
"I've been ready, Jedi."
Soergg spotted the activity and eyed the Twi'lek's approach. Marin had the trigger for the smoke bombs the Zeltron dancers had planted, and while that would give them some cover for their action the three newcomers could mess everything up.
There was another option. She'd been eyeing those chandeliers dangling on long chords from the high ceiling. As the performance had drawn on she'd experimented a little, reaching out with the Force to touch them, to judge their weight and how easily it would take to rip one free. There were six of them in all and she'd touched one after another until she found one that felt more loosely bolted to its chord than the others.
It would have been much easier to throw her lightsaber and cut those things down, but that would show her hand a second too early. Instead she grabbed that loose chandelier with the full strength of her mind and pulled.
It broke free just as the Twi'lek got within five meters of the dais. As it jerked from the chord its light flickered out, drawing attention, stopping the Twi'lek in his tracks. She then hurled it through the air and smashed it into the wall ahead of him. The Twi'lek's guards pulled him back, shielding him with their armored bodies against the spray of shattered glass.
At the exact same moment, Marin triggered the smoke bombs. Lights flashed and back clouds swelled out to fill the entire lowest layer of the chamber. People in the upper levels started to scream. Soergg bellowed orders. Marin barely noticed.
"Do it now!" she told Leegish, and the Squib acted immediately.
The Krish'nor armored suit they'd been sharing had been modified so the entire back plate could swing open like a door. Leegish kicked it clear, unbuckled himself from Marin's harness, and jumped out into the smoke. It was harder for her to disentangle herself but it could be done. The joints of the suit locked and she drew her arms and legs to her torso. Its spacious abdomen left her with enough room to pull them tight; then she ducked her head low, leaned back, and let herself spill onto the dais.
She landed on her side and immediately sprung to her feet. Smoke swelled on all sides, obscuring her vision, and the next thing she saw was one of Vedo's pink Zelton dancers darting past her and climbing into the suit, just as planned. When the smoke cleared the Zeltrons would be more easily missed than a pair of Krish'nor in towering armor. Then she spotted a blur of Leegish's white fur and chased it, though the smoke, to the other armorer suit. Nat was already out, the other dancer was getting in. Still according to plan.
Soergg was loudly bellowing for help from that Twi'lek majordomo. His protocol droid, stuck against the back wall for the long performance, was shuffling up to its master. Marin didn't let it get there; she threw herself at the machine, landed hard against it, and used the Force to carry them both off the dais and onto the main floor.
They landed with a clatter that was sure to draw attention, even with the smoke. She heard Nat and Leegish drop down behind her but all she cared about was finding the right grate. The smoke was starting lift and she found it with her eyes. As the protocol droid lay sprawled on its back, stiff limbs flailing, she ignited her lightsaber and cut through the sides of the grate with four gold flashes. By then Leegish was beside her and Nat was straddling the droid with arms locked around its waist.
Marin shut off her lightsaber and waved them forward. The Squid was the first through; then Nat half-carried and half-pushed the still-struggling droid through the hole. The apprentice followed and Marin went through last, sparing a moment to grab the cut-free grate in the Force and pull it back down over the drain, camouflaging their escape for a few crucial moments more.
-{}-
Because he was no fan of mud baths and it was too early for alien slave girls, Korosh Vull had decided he'd might as well attend this grand ceremony Soergg was hosting. It was, unsurprisingly, to celebrate the arrival of another Hutt, probably a kajidic from a different clan. Despite the food, drink, and drawn-out musical numbers, Vull had a sneaking suspicion these two Hutts were not, in fact, close friends and that once the show was over they'd get down the real business of Soergg's stolen merchandise.
From her perch on the balcony two tiers above the man floor, Vull had spotted that Twi'lek and his guards hurrying toward Soergg's dais and figured something unscheduled was happening. Then the chandelier had not just fallen but been wrenched free by an invisible hand, and then the entire lower section of the hall filled with smoke.
A lot of the motley aliens who'd been watching the scene with Vull panicked and darted away from the guardrail but the Imperial stayed were he was. He peered down at the swirling smoke, listened to Soergg's rumbling shouts, and tried to make sense of the forms he saw shifting beneath the haze.
The first thing he clearly spotted was the glint of something metal falling from the dais. Then he saw a few more bodies, two or three, tumble after it. He leaned forward, stomach pressed against the guardrail, and watched as a gold light flashed, four times. Motion cleared some of the smoke away. He watched as something small and white fell through a hole in the floor. Then he saw a human with long blond hair throw the body of Soergg's protocol droid down the hole, followed by himself. Smoke swelled again to obscure the last of it, but he saw one last figure, probably a woman, drop through the hole too.
Vull looked back at the dais, where the smoke was a bit thinner. That Twi'lek had made his way up to Soergg and was explaining something to the irate Hutt. Soergg was bellowing orders and didn't seem to notice his droid was gone.
The whole situation was astonishing and confounding; the only thing Vull knew for sure was that if that Rodian-faced droid was worth stealing, Soergg would be grateful to anyone who helped get it back.
The audience on the balcony was churning around frantically. Aliens were shouting on all sides and most of them seemed to be trying to get to the exits. Vull wasn't going to attempt to shoulder past them; instead he looked over their heads and saw the high ceremonial pike carried by Soergg's palace guards. He pushed his way past two shrieking Nimbanese, skirted around a lumbering Vippit, and finally grabbed the guard by the shoulder.
The Weequay was spun off-balance but it quickly knocked Vull back with an elbow and swung its pike toward him.
"Wait!" Vull shouting, holding his hands palm-out. "I'm trying to help! I saw two people escape down there!"
He stabbed one hand at the balcony rail and the smoke-filled chamber beyond, but the Nikto just jabbered something in Huttese and waved the pike threateningly.
"Do you want to lose your job, you idiot?" Vull snarled. "They're stealing your master's droid!"
-{}-
The roof of Soergg's palace was, in theory, a good place to hide from all the guards scrambling inside it. Once the guards examined the broken window and the hole cut through the armor plate, however, they'd invariably realize that the art thieves had come from outside. That determined, they didn't have to do much looking to find the two Imperial Knights, one of whom cradled the precious Alderaan-glass vase to his chest even as he hefted his unlit lightsaber with his free hand.
"They won't just shoot us down," Vitor told his cousin. "They won't risk breaking the vase."
"Are you sure?" Mohrgan breathed. Nobody had clambered onto the roof with them yet, but it was only a matter of time.
"Pretty sure," said Vitor, and turned his eyes up. His brother was up there, he could feel Roan reaching for him in the Force, telling him he was on the way. The palace guard hadn't launched any airspeeders yet, but if they did it would be impossible to either run or hide.
The real attack took them both by surprise. Vitor was spinning himself in constantly stead circles, watching every edge of the roof, and he still almost missed the single Toydarian as its fast-flapping wings lifted its gourd-shaped body up over the edge. Its dark shape was nearly occluded by the silhouette of a smaller tower rising behind it, but motion snagged in the corner of Vitor's eye and spun him into action. He ignited his white-bladed lightsaber and instinctively caught the first shot, even though he had to reach high to do it. The Toydarian wasn't shooting to kill; it wanted to keep the thieves pinned in place until backup arrived.
That didn't mean it wasn't a threat. The Toydarian lifted higher above the rooftop and fired two more shots, both of which Vitor deflected. At the same time Mohrgan had swapped out his saber for a hold-out blaster. Vase still pressed against his chest he lifted the gun and fired at the flying alien. Even from this range Mohrgan managed a deliberate glancing shot that caused the Toydarian to drop his blaster. With a burst from its wings it dove down, out of sight.
Vitor pivoted and gave his cousin a slap on the shoulder. "That was good shooting."
Moonlight showed the satisfaction in Mohrgan's face, and then the panic. Vitor turned. He saw three silhouetted bodies finish hauling themselves over the edge of the roof. Two were already on their knees and one had his blaster raised to fire.
Red light flashed toward them like a thrusting blade. Instinct moved Vitor's body. He didn't even try to deflect it; he jumped sideways, out of its path.
Vitor's sudden movement caught Mohrgan off-guard and robbed him of a crucial split-second's reaction. With blaster in hand he had nothing to deflect the shot and instead tried to back away as his cousin had, but all he managed to do was pivot. The red plasma-bolt skimmed across his left side and scorched his upper-arm. The young man let out of a cry of pain, dropped his gun, but somehow kept grasping the vase even as he pitched down to his knees.
The hit, the cry, and the fall all seemed to play out to Vitor in slow-motion. As he watched his cousin, shocked and wounded but still resolute, he felt a wave of shame wash over him like he'd never felt before.
The flash of red light had triggered all the edgy paranoid he'd been keeping at bay. There was no Sith Lord here, no Marin. He wasn't supposed to die here but the fear that rattled his nerves made him forget that for once crucial second, and it had nearly gotten Mohrgan killed.
As Vitor froze in place the three gunmen were racing across the rooftop toward them, rifles raised but not yet firing. One of them shouted, "Put it down, Jedi scum! Put it down!"
It wasn't supposed to end like this. It couldn't end like this. His dreams always showed him true. Even when he'd given anything if they didn't.
"Mohrgan, stay down," Vitor told the teenager on his knees.
"Vitor," he called, and his cousin look down to see Mohrgan with the vase stuck between his thighs, right hand raised, lightsaber leaping from his fingertips.
Vitor caught it. He'd not trained much in two-handed fighting but Mohrgan's confidence- his automatic assumption that his cousin would charge bravely into the fight- almost washed clear the shame of his previous cowardice.
When he ignited the second blade the charging enemies automatically started to fire. More red blasts shot his way and Vitor raced to meet them.
-{}-
The drainage system that ran beneath the main chamber of Soergg's palace was filthy, smelly, and had barely enough room for Marin and Nat to crawl on their hands and knees. Despite the green-brown muck catching on his white fur, Leegish the Squib seemed perfectly happy working in those conditions.
The galaxy's self-proclaimed best droid slicer under one meter tall was currently squatting on top of Soergg's protocol droid. The deactivated machine lay face-down in the muck and Leegish had pried apart the silver plate covering the back of its torso to fish around in the its metal entrails. From her spot behind Leegish, Marin couldn't see what he was doing and probably wouldn't understand if she could.
"How's it coming?" asked Nat, who was stuck looking on from the other side. "Did you disable the self-destruct yet?"
"Almost. Took a while to find the charge. I'm disabling it now."
"How big is this charge?" asked Nat. "If it goes off-"
"Don't you dare make me think about that," said the Squib.
Nat shut up. Leegish worked. Marin reached out with the Force and tried to get a sense of what was happening elsewhere. Vitor was still up there, and Mohrgan. They felt like they were fighting for their lives. That meant father wasn't here yet. The panic in the upper chambers seemed to have subsided, which meant the Soergg had probably realized his droid was missing by now. A good chunk of his security force would be scattered around the palace trying to find the art thieves, which would hopefully provide Marin with the opening to slip back to her X-wing.
If not, then this would be a very stupid way for two Jedi to get themselves killed.
"Got it!" Leegish announced.
"Self-destruct's gone? You sure?"
"Positive." The Squib hopped off the droid's body. "Now let's get it out of here."
"This is going to be awkward," muttered Nat.
"Not so bad," Leegish waved a paw. "Use that lightsaber. Cut off everything from the waist down."
"We wanted this thing intact," Marin said.
"You want all the neat info in its memory banks. Those are all in the head and upper body. Lower body's just for motion. Trust me, I'm the-"
"I know what you are. Get clear."
Marin shuffled on her knees until she was on top of the droid, ignited her lightsaber, and slashed it through the waist. A few sparks flashed beneath her but that was all.
"Can you get it on your back?" asked Leegish.
Marin's head and shoulders were currently scraping the top of the drainage chute. "Not likely. Let's get out of here first. Where's the exit?"
The Squib blinked at her. She sighed. "You don't know where the exit is?"
"I know droids. How am I supposed to know Soergg's sewer system? You've got your lightsaber, just cut a hole."
She tried to guess how far she'd fallen when she dove into this muck, how deep beneath the ground-level floor this sewage system ran. Nat didn't hesitate to turn on his lightsaber and stab it upward. His lightsaber burned through the metal walls. He scooted back before completing the circle, then let a chunk of everything above them drop into the sewer with them.
Metal and stone crashed down. They choked on a cloud of dust grinded from substances Marin didn't even want to think about and she called on the Force for a gust of air that pushed the disgusting haze down the tunnel.
"Okay," Nat coughed, "Bad idea."
"Maybe not so bad." Leegish hopped onto the pile of rubble beneath the whole and stuck his white head through it. His whole body stretched up, and then all of him went through.
When his dangling legs and furry tail disappeared Marin crawled over the droid's dust-coated body and looked up through the gap. "What do you see?"
"It's a hallway," the Squid called back. "Looks clear."
Marin tried to sense the area above with the Force. She found Leegish there but nobody else, so she backed away and told Nat, "Go on up. Keep an eye on him I'll be there in a second."
As the apprentice awkwardly crawled through the hole he'd cut, Marin wrapped her arms around the droid's torso and lifted it up as best she could in the confined space. When Nat was through the hole, she crawled beneath it and pushed the droid up. Finally she snaked herself through and pushed her filth-encrusted body onto the cold clean flagstones of the chamber above.
As she lay there, Leegish stepped beside her and looked down with unreadable black eyes. "Don't trust me, do you?"
"I trust you just fine," she lied. "Nat?"
"Right here," he said from her other side.
Marin rolled onto her stomach, then pushed herself up. Nat was on his feet and looking around the long, dark hallway they'd emerged from.
"Any idea where to go next?" he asked.
"If we run into a bunch of guys with guns, go the other way," Marin said, then knelt beside the deactivated droid. With everything beneath the hips cut off it was still heavy, but she could deal with it if she didn't have far to go.
She called that over and the apprentice helped her strap the droid onto her back using the same harness she'd carried Leegish with. The Squib kept looking left and right and when one long ear perked up she asked, "Hear something?"
He stabbed a paw in one direction. "We need to go that way."
"Why?" asked Nat.
"Because guys with guns are going to come from the other side in less than a minute.
"Great." Marin breathed hard and pushed herself to standing. She staggered under the fresh weight but could bear it, for now. At least she wasn't clanking around in a set of oversized armor anymore.
"Are you okay?" asked Leegish. He was already bounding for the exit.
"I'll manage," Marin grunted, and hurried after him.
Nat hung beside her, one hand on his shut-off lightsaber, just waiting for their pursuers to come bursting in. When they reached the door, the Squib looked up at them imploringly.
"It's locked," he said simply.
"I'll handle it," said Nat. He turned on his lightsaber and gave the door a quick look-over. Its frame was too narrow for a Hutt, which meant they were in corridors only servants and guards went through.
There was no graceful way to do it, so Nat made three diagonal strikes to carve a hole. Leegish hopped through first but Nat held back so Marin could stagger through.
That was when the portal at the far end of the corridor opened and the infantry finally arrived. A cut-open door wouldn't hold them for long but Marin hurried ahead and Nat stayed right behind her, deflecting shots with his saber. Leegish hurried to the end of point there this corridor hit a wall but branched off in two perpendicular directions. The Squib ducked to the right but immediately peeked around the corner's edge and began shooting back with the small hold-out blaster he'd kept tucked in his belt.
As soon as Marin joined him Leegish said, "You Jedi'd be a lot more helpful if you carried ranged weapons."
"We're plenty helpful," she muttered.
Nat swung around the left side and continued to flash his lightsaber out, deflecting shots. They'd slowed the enemies advance but Marin looked down the branches in the hallway and saw locked doors on either end.
"Are we trapped?" breathed Nat. After putting up a valiant show all this time he was finally starting to panic.
"Not exactly." In between shots Leegish tilted his snout toward the long wall that spanned both branches. "See how it's curved? See those windows? We're on the outer edge."
As Nat and Leegish stayed to hold off the attackers Marin slipping out of firing range, down the rightward branch, and went over to the wall. Sure enough, there was a subtle curvature to it, and when she got close she spotted manual latches beneath what she'd taken as long rectangular wall-panels. She tugged the latch down and pushed the panel outward, swinging the bottom side out on top-side hinges. Damp air slipped through the gap and she peeked through just long enough to see swampland spreading out fifteen meters beneath them.
Before she could open her mouth to tell the others, the locked door ahead of her slid open. Three more guards rushed through, rifles ready, but the sight of a woman just a meter ahead took them by surprise. Marin was surprised too but she recovered faster; her lightsaber came to life in her hand and immediately cut through one guard's weapon. The second one got off a shot but she deflected it back at him, catching his chest beneath his armor. The third one tried to take her flank but Marin pivoted so he could see the captive droid strapped on her back. That gave him just enough pause for Marin to jab her lightsaber into his thigh, then pull it back and cut through his blaster.
Two down. She knew the first guard was still behind her and she did the first thing she could think of: fall right back, smacking the droid's metal Rodian-shaped face into the man's forehead.
As soon as he fell, Marin heard the hiss of a moving door and looked at the portal through which they'd come. The one who'd taken the chest-shot had sprawled back, rifle lying dropped his feet and one arm flailed over his head and into the doorway's threshold. The metal portal tried to slide shut, hit the outstretched arm, retracted, tried again, and retreated, over and over.
Marin had an idea. She scooped up the blaster, called Nat's name, and tossed it at him. The apprentice had good reflexes; he caught it with his free hand, shifted to get a shooting grip, then joined Leegish in pumping blasts at their attackers.
Marin went back to the window closest to the stuck door and pushed it open from the bottom. It didn't go wide but it went wide enough.
She called Nat's name again and asked, "You got your grappler?"
The young man nodded and, understanding, ducked across the hallway, deflecting another hail of laserfire as he did. Once he was clear he handed Marin back the rifle, hooked his lightsaber to his belt, and drew out the grappling gun Vitor had provided them.
"You guys better not run without me!" Leegish shouted as he kept firing.
"Don't worry, just hold on," Marin told him.
As Nat hooked the grappler's claw to the window base and prepared to lower himself down, he told Marin, "Send the droid next. I'll use the Force so he lands soft."
Right now she'd do anything to get this heavy thing off. After Nat crawled through the gap and lowered down, she unstrapped the harness on her back.
Leegish cried, "They just got reinforcements! I can't hold any more!"
"Just a few seconds!" Marin called over the increasing volume of the blasterfire. She picked the droid torso up with both arms, shoved it through the window, and trusted Nat to take care of the rest. Mercifully free of their weight, she dashed over to Leegish and, standing right above him, peeked over the corner's edge to pop her own shots back at their attackers.
"You're right," she said, "There are more of 'em."
"Do I look like a liar?" his white fur bristled. "Tell me I can go."
"Get outta here. I'll be right behind you."
"About time." Leegish pocketed his hold-out and darted for the window. The moment he got there he looked back and shouted, "That's a hell of a drop!"
"Trust Nat! He'll catch you?"
She was pretty sure the Squib grumbled short protest before he jumped. The laserfire was coming fiercer than ever and by now had turned the wall behind her into a scorched mess. It was time to run. Marin popped off one last rain of shots, enough to give them a second's hesitation, then ran for the window. She already had her grappler in hand and she affixed it to the outside base of the windowframe, then slid her whole body through. With both hands on the grappling gun she let herself drop and dangle and didn't dare look down.
Instead she called on the Force once more. She tugged the window shut. She made the door that couldn't close as wide-open as her invisible push could hold it; enough to convince the guards that they'd gone down that rightward corridor. She heard the clatter of them turning the corner, felt bodies passing right by the shut window, and released her Force-grip on the door.
Then, finally, she released the grappling chord's lock and let herself fall, a controlled steady descent, down into the muck that surrounded Soergg's palace.
It wasn't as bad as she'd feared. Instead of landing up to her armpits in mud-water she crashed through a patch of spindly tree-branches and landed on her butt on a patch of moss-covered, mildly soft earth. Nat, Leegish, and half a droid were already there, hiding in the shadow against the tree's gnarled trunk. After Marin called the grappler's chord back to her gun she crawled over and joined them.
"Are we okay?" she asked. "We look okay."
"I've looked worse," said Leegish. "Now let's get out of here."
They'd come very far, but now they'd reached the part Marin really hadn't looked forward to. She looked at Nat and said, "I'm taking the droid from here. You need to hold out in the swamp, lay low, and when Arlen comes, he'll pick you up."
"I can handle it," he said firmly. Shadows hid his face but he made himself clear in the Force. He was proud of what they'd done, and proud he'd done it with her. She wasn't used to that kind of admiration and devotion but, almost against herself, some of his optimism bled into her.
"Thank you, Nat," Marin breathed. "And keep on eye on Leegish too."
"Not so fast, Jedi," the Squib shook his head. "I'm coming with you."
"You can't be-"
"Your ride's got room for me too," he said, and Marin realized he had that hold-out blaster pointed right at her.
Nat tensed and reached for his saber but Marin held up a hand. "You really want to press this, Leegish?"
"My orders from direct from Vedo. That droid doesn't leave my sight until I get it back to Napdu."
Nat said, "If you don't trust us why should we-"
"That's okay," Marin told the boy. "I can handle one little Squib. It'll just be a tight fit."
"Yeah, well, we're used to that." Leegish lowered the pistol but didn't holster it. "Come on, Jedi. Strap the droid back on. We're close to the end but we're not there yet."
-{}-
A white blur flashed through the barrel of the last guard's rifle. Sparks flew back in his face, stunning him for a moment and giving Vitor a chance to lunge close and snap an elbow in the Weequay's face. The alien's thick skull dampened the blow but Vitor struck again, hard against the right temple, and finally succeeded in dropping him.
He stood panting in the moonlight and looked around the rooftop. All three attackers were unconscious, their weapons destroyed. Mohrgan was on his knees but still alert and still clutching that damned Alderaanian vase with his good hand. Vitor felt a thrill of victory with his adrenaline-surge, and with them both an unfamiliar marvel. A second before this fight he's shrunk back on instinctive fear of death, even though he knew he'd never die this way. The Force had promised him otherwise. Once he'd charged the attackers he'd given himself over instinct and training, to every reflexive skill he'd honed as a trained Imperial knight. And he'd won, effortlessly.
That meant there was no need to fear death, not until Marin was with him, not until he saw looked that beautiful sneering Sith woman in the eye.
He felt the weight that had been on him since the dream lifting. It was simple, and he should have realized before. The Force's message was a curse and a burden, but it was also a gift if he knew what to do with it.
So he didn't feel fear when he heard the sound he'd been waiting for, the soft roar of an airspeeder's engines whirring to life. He stalked over to Mohrgan and stood over his cousin with a blazing white sword in either hand, and together they watched as the speeder burst into the sky, dropped itself directly above the rooftop, and shone its blazing spotlight in their faces.
As a half-dozen more armed guards dropped on fiberchords from the speeder's hold, Vitor reached out with the Force for his brother. Roan was coming. Roan was close, very close. The guards starting shouting for him to put down his sabers and the airspeeders engine whined loud overhead but, beneath it all, he could already hear the low roar of rent air.
As the guards formed a firing circle around the two Knights, Mohrgan rose on trembling feet. His damaged arm hung limp at his side but he still clasped the vase. "Do you feel that?" he panted.
"I feel it," Vitor said.
Then they heard the sound of laserfire, not from the rooftop but distant and approaching. The guards heard it too and several looked around even as they kept their guns pointed at Vitor and Mohrgan. Red and green lights, an exchange of laserfire, flashed against the stars. Vitor tried to make sense of the light-show, saw far more red shots than green ones, and took a good guess at what had delayed their pickup ride.
But then, drawing Soergg's air defense forces had been half the point of their crazy endeavor.
Starlight Champion streaked across the night sky. The big, clunky-looking slant-winged scout craft moved with impressive agility as four of the Hutt's starfighters buzzed around it. As Vitor watched a chain of laserblasts shot out from the gun turret beneath the cockpit and speared through the nearest fighter. The craft became a fireball that plunged down into the swamp and exploded, sending tremors that carried all the way to the rooftop.
As Starlight Champion banked toward the palace it unleashed another set of blasts from its forward guns. The airspeeder hovering above them veered away to avoid the fire, leaving the guards it had dropped stunned and confused.
Vitor saw an opening but held, held, until Champion dropped low over the rooftop and his brother Roan leaped down from the already-extended landing ramp. Half the guards turned to start shooting at Roan's bobbing white lightsaber but Vitor and Mohrgan were already in motion. Vitor gave Mohrgan a shove in the Force, pushing him ahead as he scampered head-down for the lowered ramp. It would still take a Force-assisted leap to get him up there but even in his damaged state the young Knight could do it.
There were still six guards and they did their best to shoot Mohrgan down as he escaped. Roan fell on the ones closest to him, cutting through one rifle-barrel, kicking another guard down, and slicing the arm off a third. Vitor charged the rest, but even as he started deflecting their laser-blasts and bounding closer he saw another group, at least a half-dozen more, pull themselves over the edge of the rooftop and come toward him.
He got close enough to one guard to cut off both wrists with a snip of two lightsabers, then looked back at Champion. More starfighters were swarming over his uncle's ship, peppering its faltering shields with red laserblasts. Mohrgan was nowhere to be seen, escaped. Roan was halfway between him and the ramp; between them were three standing guards and many more were coming on him fast from behind.
In the distance, in the darkness, he couldn't see his brother's face. He didn't have to. Roan was screaming at him in the Force, telling him to make a break for it right now.
It would take crucial seconds, time Champion might not have. Yet Vitor wasn't worried. He wasn't panicked, wasn't scared. He felt more at peace than he had in days because he knew he couldn't die here, and he knew he'd see his family again. He wished he could all explain that to his brother, but there was simply no time.
Instead he shouted "Go now!" as loud as he could, and screamed the message just as clearly in the Force.
Then one of the guards off his left flank raised his rifle and fired a shot. The moment it left the muzzle the blast looked bright red like a kill shot, but when it slammed into Vitor's chest he knew it was merely a stun blast. A wave of tingling overtook his body, and then a wave of numbness, and before he passed out he nothing but satisfaction.
-{}-
The moment his brother's body pitched forward and hit the rooftop, Roan wanted to race forward, hack down a dozen guards, grab his body, and haul him back to Champion. He wanted to do it even though Vitor's final words and final thought had urged him to escape.
But the brother's instinct passed in a second and he remembered what else he was: an Imperial Prince, an Imperial Knight, a servant of his father. All of those parts of him knew there was nothing he could do for Vitor now, and that a few more second's delay might destroy Starlight Champion and everyone aboard.
So he turned away from his brother, bounded across the rooftop, and threw himself up onto Champion's waiting ramp. As soon as his boots and palms hit metal he shouted that he was aboard and scrambled up. By the time he got into the hold the ship was lurching skyward.
He struggled to get up to the cockpit. His uncle Arlen was at the controls, wrestling a performance out of his ship that Roan had forgotten it was capable of. Mohrgan had made it to the seat behind his and Treis was strapped into the co-pilot's spot. He didn't even looked back at Roan when he came in; the other Knight's attention was focused entirely on controlling Champion's ventral gun turret.
"Can we get out of here?" Roan grabbed the back of Mohrgan's chair.
"Get back to the ramp!" Arlen barked. "We've got one more pickup!"
Roan was in no position to argue. The ship kept trying to smash him into a bulkhead but he made it back to the hold and crawled out onto the ramp in time to get a faceful of hot wind and see the gnarled trees of the swamp jump to meet them. Then he spotted the blaze of one blue lightsaber against the tangled brush. The lightsaber bounced rapidly through the dark and then it was upon them. Roan used the Force to help steady Nat Skywalker as the young Jedi leaped up for the ramp. Just as his boots hit metal an outside blast rocked Champion. Nat spilled into Roan and both went tumbling up the ramp, into the hold.
The ship jumped upward, they disentangled from each other. As Roan rolled away from the Jedi he wiped away the faceful of awful-smelling muck he'd just received and said, "How did you get so filthy?"
"You try crawling through a Hutt sewer," Nat spat and hurried for the cockpit.
Roan was right behind him and when they got there Arlen had pointed them straight at the stars. Relief lasted long as one breath; then red lasers flashed past them, their shields shuddered, and a Hutt starfighter swung past them and wheeled around for another pass.
"How many left?" asked Nat.
"Three," Arlen grunted. "I'm making a run for it."
"Can our shields last us 'til we get to hyperspace?" Roan asked.
"Nope."
"Then why-"
"Here she comes," called Treis.
The ship ahead burst into flame and a new fighter darted into vision: an antique, quad-engine X-wing with a chipped red checkerboard paint job. The old rebel fighter wheeled out of view but its lasers were already flashing. Roan braced for a few parting shots from the pursuing ships but they never came.
Finally, Treis announced a hail and turned on the comm system. Marin Fel's voice crackled over the speaker, saying, "You're all clear, Dad!"
"Great job. Thanks for the save."
"Thanks for drawing them off so I could launch."
"You got what we came for?"
"Indeed she does," squeaked a higher-pitched, surly voice.
"That's my, uh, partner," Marin explained.
"I'm ensuring Lord Vedo gets his property."
"His stolen property," Arlen rolled his eyes. "Marin, set your course for Napdu."
"No problem. You got everyone, right?"
Grim silence froze the conversation. It was Roan who said, "We left Vitor behind."
"What?"
"Marin, it's okay," said Arlen.
"He's an Imperial prince and he just got captured by a shabla Hutt!"
"It's not just Soergg down there, it's Vedo, and Vedo's got all the leverage he could want over Soergg. Vitor wanted a way to track the shipments to the Restorationists. He can get that personally now. He's right where he needs to be."
In his panic, none of that had ever occurred to Roan and he prayed to the Force that it was true.
Marin sounded similarly skeptical. "Dad, how do we know we can trust Vedo?"
"You've got Vedo's leverage, remember? Call ahead to Napdu and make sure they know if Vitor doesn't go free, Anjiliac doesn't get the droid we went through all the hassle of stealing."
"Not sure if my passenger would agree to that," she grunted, "But I can try."
"Good. Just remember, you're in control, not them."
Her voice went suspicious. "Dad, what's up? Aren't you coming to Napdu too?"
Arlen took a breath. "No. We're not."
"We're not?" Roan and Treis bleated as one.
"Where are we going?" asked Nat.
Arlen shifted to look back at his apprentice. "Nat, we just got a distress call from your mother. She's in the Hapes Cluster and she needs help."
"Wait," Roan snapped, "We left our ship on Napdu. We have to take it back to Bastion and explain to my father what-"
"You can tell my brother all he needs to know from this ship," Arlen said. "Jade's out there with a bunch of other Jedi and thousands of innocent people all they're about to get mauled to pieces by some Sith. If that's more important than your damned freighter than you'll have to take my ship from me."
All the royal fury he'd roused a second ago dissolved to nothing. Roan stared at his uncle's eyes, more commanding and intimidating than he'd remembered, and asked, "The Sith? Really?"
"That's right." Arlen turned forward. "You hear that, Marin?"
"I got it dad," she said grimly. "Listen, I can drop off the droid, then-"
"No. Stay on Napdu, make sure Vitor gets released. Take care of him. He's your responsibility. We'll handle Hapes. Understand?"
"What about the Alderaanian vase?" squeaked Marin's passenger.
"The vase is for Chance, remember? I'll make sure he gets it." Arlen said. "Marin, do you copy? Will you do it like I asked?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay, Dad. Roan, you still there?"
"Yes," he croaked, not imposing at all now.
"I'll take care of your brother. Don't worry. You help your uncle."
He nodded, then remembered words. "I understand. And… thank you."
He watched from the back of the cockpit as Marin's X-wing veered ahead. It folded its S-foils together and winked off into hyperspace. A few seconds later Starlight Champion tilted toward a different heading and then it, too, was gone.
-{}-
When they took Vitor in to see Soergg his limbs were still tingling from the residue of the stun blast and he could only move in awkward shuffles for the cuffs binding his ankles. Despite this he felt confident as he stepped into the chamber and saw Vedo along with Soergg.
Standing between the two Hutts was a pale-skinned Twi'lek who sounded rather harried as he translated Soergg's opening words. "His Lordship wishes the begin by expressing how disappointed he is that an Imperial Prince, the son of the esteemed Emperor Fel, would stoop to making himself a pawn in Vedo Anjiliac's criminal schemes."
Vedo made some chuckling remark. Soergg's unspoken response, best Vitor could tell, was an absolutely spiteful glare.
"I take it the job was a success," Vitor said, looking at Vedo.
The Twi'lek didn't bother to translate Vedo's response but from the bobbing of the Hutt's broad head Vitor guessed it was an affirmative. He turned back to Soergg and said, "If you want that droid back, you'll have to deal with me first. Vedo explained that, didn't he?"
Soergg sounded a grudging affirmative and the Twi'lek said, "His Lordship understands you are here about his purported connections with the Restorationist movement."
"That's right. We know you supplied them with the ship used to destroy the skyhook over Bastion. They killed thousands of Imperial civilians and my father won't rest until the beings responsible are punished."
The Twi'lek surprised Vitor by saying, "His Lordship was totally unaware how his freighter was to be used. He is not responsible."
"I didn't expect you to admit it that fast."
Soergg spoke again. A small hand flapped dismissively. The Twi'lek translated, "The Restorationists have been troublesome clients. It would be a relief if you took them off his hands."
"Really? And he'll agree to stop shipping weapons to Arquilla too? Did he get that part of the deal?"
Soergg glared at Vedo again and said something to him. Vedo said something back, then his whole bloated body trembled with laughter. Soergg looked away and seemed to simmer in his own anger. For once, Vitor felt a compelling desire to learn Huttese.
When Soergg spoke next, though, it was to Vitor, and the Twi'lek said, "His Lordship agrees to cease operations on Arquilla. He also offers you a method to infiltrate the Restorationists."
"Let's hear it."
"He requests your word, as Prince of the Empire, that once he complies neither you nor any other Imperial will harass him again."
Vitor smothered laughter into a smile. "Okay, fine. You have my word. What's the offer?"
Soergg spoke again, for longer than before, and when he was done the Twi'lek said, "An emissary from the Restorationists is currently inside this palace. His Lordship will not permit any violent confrontation inside his domain, but he does offer to place you hidden aboard the man's ship. Once the two of you are clear of Kor Vosadii, you may do whatever you want with him."
Vitor had felt fortunate coming in but this was unbelievable. "A Restorationist? Here? Can I ask why?"
Soergg's response was curt. The Twi'lek said, "The Restorationist came to apologize in person for misusing His Lordship's merchandise. Again, no harm against your people was ever intended."
Funny words from a weapons merchant, but Vitor was all out of humor. The full reality was settling over him now. He'd gotten even more than what he'd wanted and now he had to take things to completion. He could board that Restorationist shuttle, stow away, and ride it all the way back to whatever rat's nest it had come from, maybe even the big nest where Veers and Grave and Nemesis were hiding. And then this conflict, the war for the Empire's heart that had defined the lives of everyone in his family for the past eight years, would finally be over.
He wasn't drunk with victory. He could see the risks of trying to infiltrate an enemy base on his own, yet those risks looked smaller than ever before. He knew how he would die and it was not to the gun of some cortosis-armored stormtrooper. He wasn't invincible; they could still hurt him, but he stood capable of annihilating the Restorationist movement, once and for all.
There was simply no way he could back down.
"You have yourself a deal," he told Soergg, then raised his shackled wrists high. "Now please, I'd like to get out of these. And if you don't mind, I'd like both of those lightsabers back."
-{}-
Kaynar Auchs might not have been the most bold or ambitious warrior on Mandalore, but he knew how to track bounties. He knew how to capture people and he knew how to lay traps.
Once he was shown the recording from Chorax, Shalk Jeban was eager to help. Almost too eager; the old fighter offered to do more but Kaynar insisted he merely arrange a meeting between one of his proxies and the targets to discuss the merchandise the Skiratas were shopping around. The proxy was a Mando named Oran Vasur, distant relative of Jeban who'd been on good terms with Dorn Skirata when they were younger. Vasur extended an invitation to meet Dorn at one of Keldabe's smaller tapcafes, with an added request to see what had become of the little girl he'd last met a decade back.
The beauty was that Vasur knew nothing about what Kaynar was planning. Genuinely interested both in Dorn's daughter and the stolen goods, he was the perfect bait. He was set to meet the Skiratas after nightfall. Kaynar and Yaga took turns stalking him through the narrow, winding streets of Keldabe until he entered his drinking establishment of choice. Less than ten minutes after his entrance, one Mandalorian in green armor and another, shorter and thinner and wearing distinctive red, went through the same door. Dorn and Ninet Skirata, as promised.
So far, so good. All that was required now was to wait.
Waiting was hard. Kaynar knew what had to be done; fate had set him on this moment since he'd seen that recording on Chorax. After tonight everything would be different. He'd make enemies of the Skiratas, yes, but he was prepared for that. The rest of Mandalore would see what he'd done, why he'd done it, and the long humiliation of Clan Auchs would be over. The scattered remnants of the family would be able to come together again. Yaga would no longer grow up ashamed of his father.
All Kaynar had to do was wait.
Tension wracked his body as he set himself in the dark alley across from the tapcaf. He slunk down against the alley wall until his bottom hit the ground, legs stretched out before him, head lolled to one side. Pedestrians who glanced into the shadows took him for a passed-out drunk. They couldn't see through his helmet, couldn't see him watching the tapcaf doors through the visor's night-vision scope. From his angle it was visible, but just barely; so much the better to hide.
His son took a different tack. Yaga was a nimble young man, even with the weight of his Verpine sniper rifle slung over his back. He hauled himself onto the roof of the one-storey building facing the tapcaf, lay flat on his stomach, and waited. The buildings in this old section of Keldabe were tightly packed, and he'd be able to cover a lot of rooftops when the time came.
As they waited Kaynar wished they'd placed a bug inside Vasur's helmet, just so they'd know when the Skiratas left the tapcaf. Instead he remained still as the passed-out drunk he pretended to be, even though his heart kept pounding blood and adrenaline through his body.
And then, after an interminable wait, they stepped out the door. Vasur hadn't come out yet; maybe he was getting another drink or maybe paying the tab. It didn't matter. Kaynar remained motionless as the two of them stood in front of the door for a moment, swaying just a little, as though knocked-off balance by their drinking. Then they started to the left. They passed Kaynar's alley and didn't even glance in his direction.
"You see them, buir?" Yaga whispered in his ear.
"Track them from the roof. I'll follow behind."
Carefully, he stood up and stretched the blood back into his limbs. Then he stepped into the street and turned to follow. There was little traffic in this part of town at this part of night, but he still had to be careful of witnesses. Everyone on Mandalore would know about this once it was done but he didn't want to risk bystanders intruding.
He followed them from a distance, letting them outpace him ono several winds in the road so he didn't seem to be following. All the while Yaga crept across the rooftops, sometimes flinging his agile young body over narrow alleys to keep pace with them, warning his father every time they slowed their pace or made a turn.
As they followed Kaynar's confidence grew. The Skiratas were following the path expected, back toward the nearest landing zone, from which they probably planned to fly back to their clan's mountain hideaway. Kaynar knew exactly where to trap them and he told Yaga to hurry ahead.
A few narrow canals wound through Keldabe. Stone bridges arched over the waterways and the antique, unpaved towpaths running alongside them. As the Skiratas neared one Kaynar picked up his pace and let his vibro-knife slide gently into his cupped right hand, blade flat against palm.
"On your left, buir," Yaga told him.
"Good. Wait until I pass, then take out the big one."
"Understood."
Kaynar timed his approach so his steady pace passed the Skiratas just as they stepped onto the bridge's arch. He took them on the right flank, a meter away from the girl. That was when Yaga released his shot. The silencer on his rifle killed its sound but not the garbled cry from Dorn Skirata as the laser blast tore through the unprotected inside of his knee and dropped him.
Ninet stopped and reached for her father. Kaynar spun back on them and attacked fast. His left forearm cracked against the girl's bowed head, arching it back. He snapped the same arm again, this time cracking the flat edge of his hand against her windpipe and robbing her of breath. As she staggered, drunk and confused and gasping for air, he grabbed Dorn by the chest-plates and, half-shoving and half-throwing, sent him over the bridge's low railing onto the towpath below.
By then Ninet was recovered. She reached for the blaster at her hip but Yaga was ready and blasted through the interior of her wrist with another silenced shot. Kaynar grabbed her, too, and threw her over the edge.
Drunk and wounded they were still Mandalorians, and as Kaynar jumped down to the towpath they were rising to their feet again. Yaga wouldn't have a good shot from this angle but Kaynar could handle these himself. He grasped the knife in his right hand and lunged. Dorn was slow to react and the blade sunk easily into his gut. He heard the girl scream for her father even as she lunged at him. Kaynar knocked her back with another snap of the elbow but she kept coming. That was when Yaga arrived; he threw himself over the bridge railing and fell right onto Ninet's back. As they both fell to the ground Kaynar spun on Dorn, now sunk to his knees, one hand clutching the bleeding wound in his side while his other fumbled for the gun. Kaynar kicked his hand away.
"Which one of you was it?" Kaynar called aloud. "Who killed Gevern Auchs?"
"Who gives a shab?" Dorn hacked. "Who are you?"
Kaynar wrenched off the man's helmet and looked down on his pain-twisted face. Dorn looked up; there was no recognition in his eyes. But then, there wouldn't be. Not even his brothers had thought much of Kaynar Auchs.
Then the wounded Mandalorian's face went slack. His body tipped off-balance and fell to the side. His hand released his stomach and more blood flowed out. It pooled and trickled over the towpath's edge to join the slow pulse of the canal.
The girl, pinned down by Yaga, shouted for her father. Panic and anger gave her strength; she threw back the younger boy but Kaynar was ready for her. He grabbed her outstretched arm, kicked her front leg out from under her, and threw her hard onto the dirt beside her father. He dropped his armored body on top of her, pinning her arms beneath his legs, and wrenched off her helmet too. Ambient city light looked smooth and silver on her young face, but even here he knew she was the one he'd seen on the holo-recording.
He pressed the edge of his blade where throat met jaw, drawing a trickle of blood. "I know you were on Chorax. I know you were there when Gevern Auchs died. Who killed him? Was it your father? Was it you?"
He watched Ninet's eyes and saw the final moments of her life. He saw a hundred questions flash through those eyes, and the realization that none of them mattered. Despair might have followed; instead they filled with spite.
"I killed the chakaar," she sneered. "I'd do it a thousand times over."
Kaynar tilted the angle of the blade and pressed down, through skin, through cartilage and blood vessels. A jet of arterial spray splashed across his helmet, covering his visor. Her dying body jerked beneath his but didn't throw him off. When it finally went still, he pocketed his knife and used the soft underside of his arm to wipe clear enough blood to see.
When he got to his feet and turned around Yaga was there, watching. Behind him, a half-dozen men and women stood watching on the bridge. None of them moved or said a word.
The moment Kaynar had been preparing for these past eight years- unconsciously for so long, only realizing it at the end- was over. He felt empty and still inside.
When he realized that they all expected him to say something, even Yaga, he needed a moment to find the words. "This was an honorable punishment. These were traitors. The Mand'alor has been avenged.
"My name is Kaynar Auchs and they killed my brother. It was blood for blood. That's all that matters."