Chapter 10
The Asteroid Prison
"Attention, Jedi. We're coming out of hyperspace momentarily. Be prepared to disembark."
The pilot's voice snapped Obi-Wan out of his sleep. He had spent the past day, since the sparring match with Siri, meditating for longer and with greater intensity than he ever had. Through the weak Force bond they had, Obi-Wan could sense Siri doing the same. Even while in hyperspace, heading to Oovo IV aboard a Consular-class cruiser, the two had meditated endlessly. Qui-Gon had likely sensed some of the turmoil in his apprentice's mind, but he had refrained from asking Obi-Wan what troubled him, at least for the time being.
Suddenly, the door to Obi-Wan's cabin opened, Qui-Gon entering through it. Obi-Wan rapidly raised his shields as he saw the door begin to slide.
"Obi-Wan? We're about to arrive. Come with me to the conference room while we wait to disembark."
Suddenly, Obi-Wan remembered what he had read in the library, before Siri interrupted his research. In the past day's excitement and exhaustion, he had forgotten to tell his Master.
"Master!"
"What is it, Padawan?"
"I found something in the Archives yesterday on Reego. Back when he was a mercenary in the Outer Rim, he was a member of a group known as 'Nurkkis' Legion."
Qui-Gon's face turned grave at the mention of the Miraluka.
"Nurkkis? As in…"
"I believe so, Master. If Reego and Nurkkis worked together, he might have had something to do with the death of Master Leet."
"We'll ask Reego about it, then. A past association by itself does not prove that Nurkkis was involved."
"I understand, Master."
The two walked from their staterooms to the turbolift, taking them to the lower level of the ship. They entered the conference room, where Adi and Siri were already waiting.
"You're here. Good. Siri and I just came off the bridge after the pilot dropped out of hyperspace. He told us we'll have a while before we arrive at the prison itself. There's only one hyperspace lane leading here, and it leads into a narrow corridor surrounded by asteroids and mines. A patrol craft from the prison will have to guide us through."
"Then we wait, Master Gallia. Has Warden Booda been notified?"
"Yes. The pilot contacted him just as Siri and I left, and the Council informed the Warden that we were on our way. He'll have Reego ready for questioning by the time we arrive."
"Good. Obi-Wan spent the past few days in the Archives, and he found something that might be relevant."
"What is it?"
"Apparently, Reego once worked with Raton Nurkkis."
"Nurkkis? LMC's head of security?"
"Apparently so. They were both mercenaries in the Outer Rim at some point in the past."
"Qui-Gon, why would Nurkkis order…"
"Remember, Adi, we don't know if there is a connection. But, whether a connection exists or not, we'll have the answers we seek by tomorrow."
"All inmates prepare to leave your cells. All inmates prepare to leave your cells."
Yet again, the inmates of GRP Oovo IV stood by their doors, waiting for what by this point had become a mechanical routine. Nio Gwerto stood as well, only with anticipation in his mind instead of boredom.
This is it. The last time I hear that damn announcer call me to attention like some pet animal. I hope I get to kill him on the way out. Today is the day. Just meet up with Vrossk in the mess hall, and put our plan into action. Today is the day. The day I finally leave this dump.
Once again the buzzer sounded, and once again the cell doors slid open. Once again, the guards called out to their charges in their harsh voices.
"Alright, ladies. Line up. It's time for lunch."
The guards herded the inmates into a line in the center of the room, and marched them towards the blast doors leading out of the cellblock down towards the mess hall. For the first time in years, Captain Nio Gwerto felt eager to face the day ahead of him.
Today is the day.
The four Jedi walked down the cruiser's ramp into a small, plain hangar. Each of the hangar bays, six in total, held strange blue ships resembling street lamps, their dormant blaster cannons turned inwards to the walls. Maintenance droids crossed to and fro across the hangar floor, while others worked on the strange blue ships. The only living being visible was a dark-skinned human male, standing at the base of the ramp. He wore a black body suit under green blast armor with orange shoulder pieces, and a green helmet with a large orange mark on its front. On his waist was a large utility belt loaded with medical supplies, binders, a stun sprayer, an electrobaton, blaster power packs, and a holster carrying a heavy blaster pistol. He approached the Jedi as they stepped off the ramp. "You must be the Warden's visitors."
"I am Master Adi Gallia of the Jedi Council, and this is Master Qui-Gon Jinn. These are our Padawans, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Siri Tachi."
The man looked over the four Jedi, a hint of resignation and annoyance on his face.
"Sergeant Barabbas, Republic Correctional Authority. The Warden has assigned me to babysit you here. Before you go anywhere, I'll need to tell you the rules. Whatever you Jedi are used to, you're on our turf now. Firstly, remember these orange markings. Only the senior guards wear these. If you need to find out who's in charge, look for the orange marks. Secondly, Republic law dictates that while inside an institution of the Correctional Authority, the officers of that institution have final say over anything that happens. I don't care how mighty you think you are. I tell you to jump, you ask how high, and nothing more. Thirdly, do not speak to any inmate without my permission, or the permission of another senior corrections officer. Look if you must, but never touch. These inmates are some of the worst beings the galaxy has ever produced, and they have no respect for life or decency. Whatever the Jedi Order taught you, I can tell you right now that it isn't sufficient to deal with scum like that. I don't want to be cleaning any of you off the walls because you said the wrong thing to the wrong being. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Sergeant. Now, can you please take us to the Warden?"
"Right away. Follow me, all of you. And stay close."
What an introduction…he's quite rude, Master.
Patience, Siri. A lifetime spent dealing with the galaxy's most hardened criminals on a daily basis leaves no room for polite niceties.
The Warden's office was a surprisingly impressive sight. A desk sat in front of a large transparisteel window looking out over the asteroid field surrounding the prison, asteroids dancing in the foreground against a background of stars. The desk was adorned with what looked like various awards and trophies, as well as office implements such as pens, folders, datapads, and a large computer terminal. On the front of the desk sat a wooden stand with a golden plaque set into it, with "Fenn Booda, Warden" carved into it. Several chairs sat in front of the desk to accommodate visitors. To the left, there was an open doorway that led into a bedchamber with a sizeable, luxurious bed and another window looking out over the stars and asteroids. At a chair behind the desk, Fenn Booda turned to face his visitors. Sergeant Barabbas spoke for the party. "Sir. The Jedi are here."
"Ah, good. Jedi, please, have a seat. Your prisoner will be up momentarily. Sergeant, please contact the cellblock and let them know to get Mr. Reego up to my office."
"Yes, sir."
Sergeant Barabbas walked to the edge of the room and pulled a commlink from his belt. "This is Barabbas. I need a Vick Reego in the Warden's office, now."
The mess hall rang with the din of countless voices and the pungent odors of sweaty men and stale prison food. The lunch line extended towards a central station, where a rusty waiter droid shoveled food onto trays for the hungry inmates before it. With a grumble, inmate after inmate took his share and trudged to a table to eat his meal. Guards stood at the corners of the room, clad in their green armor and helmets. They were armed only with binders and stun spray to prevent any enterprising inmate from acquiring a blaster or an electrobaton for an escape attempt. Above them, on a walkway, were more guards armed with blaster rifles, watching the inmates below. A set of stairs led up onto the walkway, protected by an electric arc barrier at the base of the stairs. Any inmate attempting to cross the barrier would receive an electric shock powerful enough to knock out a grown Wookiee. Any inmate seen tampering with the generators was to be ordered to halt, and shot immediately by the guards on the walkways if he did not comply. Given the nature of the room, tampering with the barriers was impossible to do without someone noticing. In the midst of all this, Nio Gwerto sat at a table, quietly eating his lunch alongside Grigg, one of his crew. Gwerto leaned over to Grigg, speaking and reaching his hand under the table. "You got it, Grigg?" "That I do, Cap'n."
Grigg slid his smuggled prize into his Captain's hand. The Aqualish quietly chuckled in delight as he gripped the blaster. It's just a hold-out model. Still, a blaster's a blaster. I only need this long enough to kill one of the screws and get whatever he has. Just like I planned, once Vrossk kicks things off, I'll cap one of the bastards on the walkways. Then, I'll shoot the arc casters on the stairway. Those guards can't shoot fast enough to kill everyone rushing up the stairs at them. We grab what weapons we can, and then make for the armory. Then, we get this party started.
"Is Vrossk ready?"
"He is, Cap'n. He's got the poker ready. All he needs to do is get their attention."
"And he will. A brawl usually does that. Once things get out of hand, they'll send everyone down here, and our boys in the basement can work their magic. Then it's lights out, and we raid the armory and find a ship. And then it's back to business as usual."
Grigg smiled and nodded in approval.
"Hehehe…I like the way you think, Cap'n."
Two guards walked into the Warden's office, with a shackled Vick Reego between them. The Gran's eyes went over the Jedi, and a look of fear went over his features when he saw Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon. He recognizes us, Master.
I know.
The guards sat Reego down in front of the Jedi, and then took positions by the door, their eyes focused on the prisoner.
"Obi-Wan, Siri. Stand guard outside. We'll handle this, and we'll call you in if we need you."
"Yes, Master Gallia.
"Yes, Master."
The Padawans walked out of the room as their Masters turned to face Reego. Reego, ignoring Adi, turned to speak to Qui-Gon.
"I know you. You and that kid back there arrested me on Coruscant. I don't recognize your companions, though."
"This is Master Adi Gallia, and that back there was her Padawan."
"Alright. Are you here to kill me? After what I did to that other Jedi?"
The Gran was calm as he said this, clearly having made his peace with his fate.
"A Jedi does not seek revenge, Mr. Reego," Qui-Gon said with an air of malice. As much as I wanted to after what you did to Figaro.
"Then why are you here?"
"We're here to ask you some questions, Vick." Adi put on her most calming demeanor, clearly attempting to provide a warmer contrast to Qui-Gon's cold, threatening edge. The "good cop, bad cop" routine. Leave it to the diplomats' daughter to play this game. Let's see how this goes.
Obi-Wan and Siri now sat in the Warden's parlor, just in front of his office and living quarters. A series of chairs and couches sat around a large table, with bookshelves filled with various holobooks, most on criminal justice and other legal matters. The floor was a soft red carpet, with various statues and other decorations further accenting the room. A large, drab security door, very out of place given the rest of the room, led into the hallway the Jedi had entered from when they first arrived.
No interesting reading…damn. I need anything to take my mind off of her, and being alone together. I might just have to dig into some law books, as boring as that sounds.
Obi-Wan sat in one of the chairs, while Siri had stretched herself across a couch. Both had made a point of sitting on opposite sides of the table. Siri sighed in exasperation.
"Why'd they have to send us out, Obi-Wan?"
"The fewer involved in an interrogation, the better, Siri. The Masters don't need us crowding them."
"I guess so. Still, it's better talking to you than to Sergeant Crabby back there."
Obi-Wan laughed at his friend's annoyed comment. She really hasn't changed, has she?
"Don't let Master Gallia hear that," he spoke through his laughter. "She might just tell him."
"Come on, admit it. He could be a little more…diplomatic to his visitors."
"Consider who he deals with every day, Siri. How would you react after spending years watching over the galaxy's worst and hoping they don't gut you when you turn your back? He probably thinks the Jedi are all delusional idealists, unfit to deal in the world of harsh reality he inhabits."
"You're sounding like a psychiatrist, Obi-Wan. You might have just found your true calling," Siri chuckled.
Obi-Wan chuckled in reply, suddenly feeling a stirring in his loins and realizing that he was taking Siri in. She had shifted onto her side, facing him as her head rested on a pillow; her golden hair sprawled across the red fabric. Her big blue eyes went over him, and he could tell she was taking him in as well.
I stopped reminding myself how beautiful she is…now I can't help it anymore.
He saw a look of longing on her face, and knew then that her thoughts mirrored his. He quickly spoke to preclude any further action. "Psychiatry. Maybe you're right…"
"Are you kidding me? A Jedi poster boy like you? Don't make me laugh, Obi-Wan." Obi-Wan realized he had just spoken without thinking.
Don't let your feelings for her cloud your mind. You're better than that, damn it.
"Just kidding," Obi-Wan said while putting on an impish grin, hoping to hide his true feelings.
Siri chuckled nervously, also clearly trying to bury her feelings for the man sitting opposite her.
"You think the Masters will need us?"
"I don't know, Siri. I wouldn't think so, unless Reego tries to escape."
"Which he won't. So that means no."
"Exactly."
"Well, what do you suggest we do, then?"
"I suppose we should just grab some of these holobooks. We don't have anything better to do."
"Ugh…boring old legal studies. I always hated that class at the Temple."
"Well, there might be some true crime stories in here. More your style."
Siri's face lit up at the suggestion.
"Now that's more like it!"
"Such enthusiasm for stories of murder and mayhem. Very un-Jedi-like. Your master might want to hear about this," said Obi-Wan in a mockingly scolding tone.
Siri sat up and crossed her arms across her chest, playfully raising her eyebrow at Obi-Wan.
"Who says I'll let you tell her?"
It's time. Finally.
Gwerto kept his eyes on Vrossk, who stood in the lunch line with his heavy metal tray in hand. Every few moments, Vrossk would look back at his Captain, awaiting the signal he had waited for all these months. Them Aqualish look damn scary, with those spider eyes. Like them wyyyschokks I saw when I was hunting Wookiees with my daddy. Even knowing Skipper all these years, he still makes me scared sometimes.
Vrossk turned to Gwerto, and finally saw the signal he had been waiting for. Gwerto nodded to his first mate, jabbing his hand upwards. Vrossk gently ran his hand into his pocket, drawing the homemade knife and sliding it up his sleeve before making his move. He quickly walked in front of the inmate ahead of him in line. "Hey? What's the idea? You trying to start something, you kriffin'…"
The Trandoshan smashed his metal food tray into the inmate's face, knocking him to the floor. In a second he was on the inmate, pounding his head into the floor with his scaly fists. He was aware of a guard's voice, shouting at him to "get off that inmate, right now."
He turned to face the guard, quietly sliding the shiv into his hand. The guard had his stun spray drawn and aimed at the Trandoshan's face. Vrossk slid to the right as the guard pressed the release button, sending the spray into the line of inmates behind him. They screamed in pain as the spray hit their faces, burning their eyes and exposed skin. Vrossk looked right at his target, the guard's throat, as he turned his hand to drive home the blade. In an instant, he plunged the ragged blade into the space above the guard's Adam's apple. The doomed guard grimaced in pain, grabbing helplessly at the blade as blood squirted from his neck. Vrossk withdrew the blade and grabbed the guard in a headlock, tearing off his helmet. He plunged the blade into the guard's head, again and again as the man thrashed in pain and terror. Slowly, Vrossk felt the guard's convulsions weaken, and then his body go limp.
As his first mate killed the guard, Gwerto drew his hidden blaster as another guard ran towards Vrossk. He fired, hitting the guard in the chest. The guard felt to the floor, clutching his injury. Gwerto ran to him and fired two more shots into the center of his face. The guard's head recoiled back onto the floor, his face forever frozen in a look of surprise and terror. Gwerto looked up to the catwalk, and saw one of the armed guards aiming a rifle at him. Gwerto fired a quick shot, hitting the guard in the shoulder. The guard clutched at his shoulder as his rifle clattered over the edge onto the mess hall floor below, losing his balance and falling to the floor with a yell. He landed on a table, scattering the inmates sitting at it. He rolled off, leaning against a wall as Gwerto approached. He raised his hand in terror as Gwerto took aim. Gwerto shot the guard in the chest, again and again until he heard a click from his blaster's trigger.
Power pack's dry. Now, though, I have his rifle.
Gwerto picked up the rifle, scanning the walkways for the other guards. One was already firing into the mass of excited inmates, and Gwerto heard screams as inmates fell under his fire. Gwerto calmly lined up on the guard's head, and then squeezed the trigger. The guard's head jerked with the impact, and then he flopped over onto the walkway, his rifle clattering to the ground. Gwerto suddenly remembered the electric gates, and quickly turned to shoot them. He took aim and fired several times, and the generator sparked and burst into flames. The inmates rushed through the breach as another guard fired at them. Several went down before the guard ran for the security doors that would lead him out of the mess hall and to the security room, where the rest of the guards awaited. Gwerto again took aim and fired, striking the guard in the chest. He fell onto the walkway, gasping for breath as the inmates caught up with him. Gwerto could barely hear the man's scream as the roaring mass of inmates began tearing him apart with their bare hands.
Today is the day. Now it begins.