Turve Glat was standing in the ship's entrance, watching the battle open-mouthed. He was not certain if he should rather be following Jixton's progress or the fight going on between the three Jedi. Damn! Why didn't he have his recorder with him! This would be so perfect... Ah. No sense in mourning his loss. Time to get out of here. Grabbing his backpack Turve sidled down the landing ramp and edged towards the wall, as far from the shooting as he could. Across the melee of New Republic soldiers trying to hit Jixton instead of themselves, he could see the Dark Lord in a hot corner. But he managed to get out of there quite elegantly. Nevertheless Turve was at the hangar bay doors before the two Knights could hit the floor. Only to find them locked down.
"Hey!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Open up!"
"Going somewhere?"
Turning around Turve shied away from Jixton's cold, blue eyes and his mocking smile. At the Corellian's side the Dark Lord bore a grim expression on his face.
"It is... closed," he explained, quite unnecessarily.
"You don't say. Then let us open it really fast."
Whipping out his blaster Jixton aimed a shot at the lock, frying the wires. He put the weapon back in its holster and bent forward to short-circuit the door.
"Stand back," Vader ordered coldly as it opened up.
Jixton immediately took cover behind the wall, but Turve was frozen in place, unsure of what was going on. The contingent of troopers on the other side of the door let him make a decision fast. He joined the Corellian hurriedly, while the Dark Lord waved a hand at the mess behind him where the soldiers were slowly getting to their feet, or at least those of them who still could.
"Now. There are two ways we can go about this. First, you retreat nice and slow, or second ... I don't think I have to make this any clearer, do I?"
The sergeant heading this group gave him a nod and gestured towards his troops. They took a few steps back, clearing the way slowly.
"Thank you."
Pacing her office Leia had her hands crossed behind her back. She should be proud of herself. The Senate had agreed to most of her conditions and Gita Deron was already busy with investigating the more prominent incidents. But that small victory could not lighten up the shadows that lay heavily over her and her family. Han was so good, enduring her moody outbursts patiently, and the times when she would be simply staring out of the window thinking very dark thoughts, he would be just there somewhere, taking care of everything and giving her the feeling that she could come to him at any time and simply spill her heart out. Which she had done quite frequently in the past days, and she had a guilty conscience for her trouble too.
Biting her lower lip Leia shook her head furiously. She was getting as bad as her father, wanting to have everything under her control. And the fact that Anakin was out of her reach made her hands itch. How dare he run off like that? Of course she was pretty certain that he was on the trail of the same people she was after herself, but he would make a mess out of this. Like he did every time. Anakin Skywalker always wanted things to work his way and he usually succeeded, no doubt about that. At first it would look truly brilliant, but in the end it would only spawn more trouble. For him, that was.
His taking responsibility for everything made him vulnerable to attack, something he did not seem to have realized. And in a way it was not something he needed to pay any heed to either, for he was always the stronger. But now he was in too deep for escape or victory. The last consequence of his sense of duty was his own death. It seemed the logical step and maybe it had been a rather unconscious decision. What her father truly desired, Leia knew, was freedom. Understandable, for a man who had known nothing but what other people thought he should be doing. As a child he had been a slave and as a young man he had been in another sort of captivity, one that did not allow him to do what he wanted either. Maybe his marriage had been his attempt at escape. And then his life had taken another turn. Oh yes. Palpatine had known very well just how to captivate the young Jedi Knight. What to promise him.
Leia sighed deeply. It was just that she was under so much pressure. Of course, Anakin's flight was occupying all of the media's interest, which was not so bad. But she had no idea where her enemies were hiding and what they were capable of. It would be easier just to let Anakin deal with it. And on the other hand she did not want to always have to depend on him. She was President of the New Republic and it was time that people realized that too.
"Luke?" He stood at the window of the living-room of their apartment, hugging himself tightly. But the sound of Mara's voice brought him out of his dark broodings instantly. Turning towards her with a smile the Jedi Master indicated the couch, urging her to take a seat. She complied without saying a word, simply waited for him to join her. But he preferred to remain standing.
"What is it? You left so abruptly. Everyone's been asking me about you... They are worried." Luke simply shrugged before answering:
"I guess I am just a bit down because of all ... this."
"You father did not contact you then?"
He barked a short laugh and then his eyes focused into the distance, scaring her. But a shake of his head brought a light into their blue depths again:
"He did, in a way."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing? I don't understand..."
Dropping into the couch next to her Luke started stroking her shoulder before he turned away again. But Mara could hear the tiny sigh he had been trying to hide from her. Finally he seemed to have made up his mind. His eyes cast down to the floor he began anew, his voice taking on a somber tone:
"It is just a feeling."
"What feeling?"
When he raised his head to look at her Mara felt her throat tighten at the sadness in his eyes.
"That he won't come back."
He could see the shock plain on her face, but suddenly her expression turned grim.
"What is that to you, Luke? By now you should already have gotten used to this. He has died twice and I remember the last time clearly. You were devastated because he was going places you could not be. Why are you trying to hold him close when all he desires is his freedom?"
Luke swallowed hard. He wanted to shake his head in denial, but in a way what Mara had said was too close to what he knew was the truth. For years he had been dreaming of his father, any father, and when he had found him at last it had turned out that he was not what Luke had imagined him to be. But he had kept his faith and it had made him win in the end. Still, his victory had not given him what he had wanted. Anakin had died and Luke had mourned his loss for the hours, days and years they could not spend together, making up for all the time that had passed them by, each walking their own path, living their own lives. And then Anakin had returned. And once again Luke had found that his father was very different from what he needed him to be. He was no example to him and he could offer no guidance. He was doing whatever he chose to do and although Anakin surely saw to protecting his children and showing them that he loved his family dearly, he still remained apart.
And not so long ago he had advised his son to keep his distance too. But Luke would not have it. When his father had agreed to the trial he had at first suspected another brilliant move on his part. For his inaction and the way he had carried himself in the court-room had made it clear, to Luke, that Anakin was planning on playing the public sentiments in his favor. Now though he had realized that his father had meant every word he had said to his son back in his prison. When Luke had offered to teach him he had refused, knowing full well that this lesson came far too late. And he would not force his father to change either. Not that he could have in any case.
"Luke," Mara began anew. "Let me tell you a story I heard when I was very little. I do not remember much of my parents, but I remember this tale my mother told me often. Maybe she was afraid for me, maybe she knew that my Force potential could doom me. Whatever it was that made her tell me this, I never forgot. It is a child's tale, so don't laugh," she threatened when Luke began to smile.
He spread his hands in an appeasing gesture, shrugging easily: "I promise. Go ahead. I am anxious to hear it."
"Alright. A long, long time ago in a land far away a man uncovered the grave of a dragon-slayer close to his village in a small village in the high mountains. The warrior's armor and sword had been preserved, but nothing else was left of him. The man who had found the grave was overjoyed. He tried a few strokes with the sword and watched it slide through the air elegantly. After a while the villagers gathered around him, and watched in awe, as he put on the armor."
"I get it. By putting on the armor and taking the sword he pretended to be someone he wasn't."
Mara gave him a withering stare: "I can see that you are not prepared to listen."
"No, no. Go on. It is ... interesting."
She snorted in disgust, but continued: "Well then, the villagers wanted to be just like him and made armor out of animal skins and swords out of branches. They entered in mock duels, generally having a good time about it. But the man who had found the warrior's grave grew thoughtful. He had been declared leader of the village and of course he wanted to be true to that responsibility. And he believed that the neighboring villages might fear that they would soon fall upon them and would try to obtain real arms in preparation of a preemptive strike. And if they did the villagers would stand no chance. So the man ordered the blacksmith to create real swords and asked the tanners to make real armor so that they would be prepared. Can you guess what happened next, my wise Jedi Master?"
"They went to war."
"Exactly."
"How did it end?"
"Impatient after all?" she threw him a quick smile. "Well, it is a bit...involved...but in essence the man who had gone astray from his peaceful life was tested, and they were trying to get him to become a master of himself. But they did not quite succeed. In the end he was locked up for a long time until a wise man released him again, but put him under a spell of compassion."
"Who is 'they'?"
"The wise ones."
"Not as wise as the one in the end, right?"
"No."
"Then I have failed? Is that what you are trying to tell me?"
"No, Luke, not at all. You tried all you could. But your father is master of himself, of his fate. He is the wise man in the story and he has to make the right choice."
"But death..."
"Might be something else for him than it is for you, my dear."
Wrenga Jixton was jogging after the Dark Lord easily, keeping his eyes open to scan the darker corners of the underground. Nar Shadaa was a dangerous place, for everyone. But Vader was simply striding ahead, his head held high, walking with as much energy and purpose as he remembered him from seven years ago. Turve Glat was tagging along, but Jix had the distinct feeling that this would not hold for long.
"Is it very far?" the reporter yelled.
"Shut up!" Jix hissed back, half-turning towards him.
Falling silent again Glat quickened his pace noticably. Not that the Corellian cared about that at all. If it were for him they could just as well lose the man, and better sooner than later. He had no idea if the New Republic soldiers were following them or not, but he was certain that the two Jedi would not give up easily. What if they encountered them again? The Dark Lord had seemed hard-pressed back there, that was for sure. On the other hand Jix could not quite believe that he had lost any of his poise. But then, they were both older now. Seven years. Seven years of cursing Vader whole-heartedly whenever he could get his mind off more immediate problems. And still he could feel that bond between them.
When he had first met the Dark Lord it had been hate at first sight. And Jix had been lucky to survive that encounter. But he would rather have died than be court-martialed and sentenced to Kessel for refusing to follow orders. Orders that had been as inhuman as the Sith. Once Jix had made his escape from the prison colony on Kessel he had sworn revenge. And still. Their second encounter had been more than strange. Vader had been injured and unconscious when the Corellian had found him on the remote world of Aridus. Killing him had been very tempting then, but Jix was no fool. He had knelt at the Dark Lord's side for a long time, regarding his pale, scarred face steadily. What he had found there was the fact that the Sith was only human, and there were always weaknesses to be exploited there.
Additionally, Jix had reasoned, if he could convince him to working together he would most certainly live longer. And so they had made a deal. One that had benefited both of them. Over time Jix' hatred had turned into a mixture of fondness and caution. Vader was like a viper. It was nice to watch him move as sly and deadly as he did, but one should always be on the safe side with him because there was no telling where he might strike. Jix remembered each one of their encounters that had been more frequent from that time on. He had always insisted on his independence and the Dark Lord had granted it, if it made accomplishing his missions more efficient. And Jix had know that there was a grudging admiration for his talents on the Sith's part. In short: as contradictory as their relationship had been, both had known that they could depend on each other.
The way they did now. The only difference, maybe, was that they had met back on Coruscant on more equal terms. There were things Jix knew that Vader did not, and the Dark Lord's current state made him more vulnerable than Jix remembered him. And despite that he was the only one Jix could trust with this. That he had to ask for assistance at all was humiliating in a way, but the Corellian knew that Vader would understand.
"We are here."
Jix slipped to the right, covering the only corridor leading into this particular chamber apart from the one they had used to get in here. He nodded at the Dark Lord, indicating that all was clear. Vader smiled at him, and that simple gesture reminded Jix that there was still a vast difference between them after all. Of course the Sith could just as well sweep their surroundings using the Force. On the other hand it might be wiser not to, with those two Jedi running around searching for them.
"Mister Glat," Vader said, waving the reporter closer.
"Yes?"
"You see this corridor? It will lead you into an apartment complex. Go to Number 337, but take your time. We don't want you there ahead of the New Republic troops. Tell them that you found the place on your own. You are an investigator, after all. You know the rest. Is there anything else?" he added, raising his eyebrows coolly.
Turve Glat shrugged:
"Yes, actually. Why should I help you at all?"
"You are not helping us, Mister Glat. You are a distraction, nothing more."
"Great. That's all I wanted to know."
"Then this is where we part, Mister Glat. I hope that for your sake you will never have to see us again."
Throwing the reporter a mocking salute Vader strode off into the direction they had come. Jix grinned at Glat's perplexed expression. "See ya, Mister Glat," he purred, imitating the Dark Lord's ironic words, and turned away to follow the other man.
Closing his eyes Turve heaved a deep sigh that turned into a relieved yelp, before he darted away, determined on finding the next public comm station there was. Sithspawn! This was big, this was really, really big. He was trembling with excitement and fear. Oh my stars! Running faster he passed the apartments, hunting around for a comm. Why the hell had Jixton insisted on destroying his anyway? Yeah, of course he knew why. But the gall of the man to deprive a reporter of his most important tool! Actually his rage over the Corellian's impertinence made Turve almost forget the dangers lurking everywhere. He ploughed through the city like a small steam engine, fuming with righteous anger. Maybe it was the fierce expression that had fixed itself on his face that kept predators of any shape away from him, and maybe it was something else entirely. Whatever it was it let him arrive at his destination unmolested.
The public comm was situated in a seedy tapcafé, not far from one of the city's major boulevards.
Turve called up Jellan's code quickly and waited for the image to turn a little less grainy. But apparently the equipment was in as bad shape as the whole establishment, and he huffed a small, indignant sigh in the direction of one of the waiters bustling around the bar in the far corner. Finally his boss was on the line and the man's face lit up spectacularly at the sight of Turve Glat.
"Hey, good to see you around, How are you?"
"You heard what happened?"
"Supposedly you were kidnapped."
"You bet. They let me go and now they want me to do a few things for them. But that's not really the reason for my call. You promised me a few minutes on Coruscant Daily?"
"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead." Jellan flicked a few buttons on his receiver to get a recording. "A shame the image is so bad, but maybe we can touch it up a bit."
"Ready? Alright." Composing his face in a more dignified fashion the reporter began solemnly: " This is Turve Glat reporting live from Nar Shadaa...."
Once he was finished a hopeful smile appeared on his lips: "Whaddya think?"
Jellan gave him a thumbs-up: "It's perfect. Keep me posted. And, Turve, where did you say they would be going next?"
"Err, I don't know..."
"Then try to find out, okay? But keep out of their way. We don't want to lose you, right?"
"Right." Turve answered, relief plain in his tone. "Thank you."
As the connection broke, his smile faded gradually. Find out where they would be headed to next? This should prove a bit more difficult. Damn! He should really be leaving for Vader's office now or else he might get into more trouble than he was already in. When a hand fell heavily on his shoulder he jumped with a small scream. Whirling around in his seat he stared up at the two men looking down at him and almost choked.
"Can I help you?"
Anakin knelt down next to the small grating that was half-hidden behind rubbish and broken down furniture. He found the wires and cables quickly and it took him less than three minutes to rig them together correctly. That done, he turned around to leave, throwing a last look over the abandoned apartment. If his timing was correct the New Republic troops would just at this moment be searching his office a few levels down. He left with a small smile on his lips to rejoin Jix at the other end of the corridor next to a public comm.
"Is everything alright?"
"Noone around and that thing is clear too."
"Good."
Leaning over the keypad attached to the comm Anakin did not bother to hide the code from Jix. They would do this together, after all, and there was no need to keep secrets from each other either. Fifteen messages had piled up on his account over the past months, but there were only two that seemed of any importance. One was a little bit older, a few weeks, and it had been sent from a public comm too. It was a message from Jix, asking to meet with him on Nar Shadaa. Anakin threw the agent a quick smile and deleted the message. The other one though had been sent by Talon Karrde. Which was unusual in itself, since the smuggler would never use this account to contact Anakin. According to the date the message had been received exactly one week ago. The Dark Lord hesitated before opening it, and for a moment he let his mind drift, searching their surroundings. He could not find anything unusual though, which did not really mean a thing.
"Trouble?" Jix asked quietly and Anakin could hear him unholster one of his blasters.
"Maybe. Stay sharp."
Opening the message he stared at the blank screen, trying to make any sense of it. Then a tiny blinking image at the bottom of the message caught his eye. Activating the program he resorted to waiting, despite the fact that his instincts told him vehemently to leave. But he wanted to get to the bottom of this. When the face of a middle-aged man suddenly swirled into existence on the screen Anakin was slightly taken aback, but he knew how to hide his surprise well. The stranger gave him a business-like smile that never touched his eyes.
"Ah, Lord Vader. I had hoped for you to receive this message. There is much you and I have to talk about."
Only when the man fell politely silent did Anakin realize that this was no recorded message but a live link. What was all this about?
"I would not know what there is to tell you, whoever you might be."
"Really? Nothing? Of course, circumstances are a bit different from what we had anticipated. Still, I am certain we can still find a solution that would benefit all of us."
"I doubt it," Anakin hissed. "I know who you are and trust me, I will hunt you down."
"You can certainly try, Lord Vader, but where to look? We are simply everywhere. Ask your friend, Wrenga Jixton. He knows what I am talking about."
"He has told me enough."
"Then you must realize that this is a futile effort on your part."
Abruptly the connection broke and Anakin stared down at Jix' hand dumb-founded. His gaze travelling up the agent's right arm he met the other's calm blue eyes angrily.
"He was stalling for time. Come on. We gotta go."
Jix was right, of course. What had he been thinking, throwing empty threats at his opponent at a time like this?
"I was a fool," he admitted finally, walking down the ramp to the next floor at the Corellian's side. Jix shook his head slowly:
"Not at all. But you have to learn how to play this game on another level to survive."
"What do you mean?"
"What I mean is that you don't have the Imperial or New Republic Navy at your back anymore. You have to work smaller, so to say."
"I see."
"Good. Welcome to the real world, Lord Vader."
"Where do we go next?"
"Depends on what you think is best. We cannot run after them and ferret them out one by one. Perhaps it would be best to strike at the heart."
"And where would that be?"
"Ylesia."
"Just you and me? Are you certain?"
"Hey," Jix said with a smile, "it's us, after all."
Anakin barked a sharp laugh, shaking his head in quiet amusement. But it was good to see Jix regaining his confidence so easily. And it was true: they could handle this on their own and they had to. If they asked the New Republic for help there was no telling what the 'club' might do to get them out of their way in time. And, besides, if they had managed to even infiltrate Karrde's organization, chances were that they had infiltrated the New Republic military too. No, they truly were alone in this.
When Jix suddenly darted ahead, his mouth set in a grim line, Anakin started in surprise. A rare occurrence, but one that should worry him immensely. Rounding the corner the Corellian had vanished behind, Anakin stopped short, raising his eyebrows in admiration.
"You knocked out a Jedi Knight, Jix. I am impressed. And where is the other one?"
Straightening up from an unconscious Gantoris Jix opened his mouth to reply, but the slight widening of his eyes forestalled any answer. By the time Anakin was moving he already felt the searing blade of Kyp Durron's lightsaber arch towards him. It caught him across the shoulders and when he came around fully the tip of the laser-sword hooked around his neck, forcing him to retreat against the wall.
"Step back or else your friend is dead," he heard Jix hiss and the young Jedi's blue eyes flickered with doubt for a second.
"There is no need for any hostility," Anakin tried soothingly, but his gaze was fixed on the other's face. He had taught them how to shield their presence in the Force and in hindsight that lesson may have been a mistake.
"Lord Skywalker, I truly hate having to repeat myself, but you are coming with us. Now. Please," Kyp added in response to the Dark Lord's cold smile.
"No way. Keep out of this and you will survive. I would truly regret having to kill you two."
"Why? Why do you have to be here?"
"We have to move very quickly, and the smaller our numbers the better our chances that the enemy will underestimate the forces assembled against them."
"Who is this enemy?"
"Businessmen, politicians, you name it. They have power and they want to keep it."
Kyp frowned at him: "Your daughter is on their trail, I believe."
"Good. Then tell her to increase her efforts, so she will be prepared in case Jix and I fail."
"Fail!" Durron barked, sounding incredulous. "You will not fail. But we can join you."
"No. You two keep out of this. Luke sent you after me for a reason. If you attract any more public interest now you might not survive this time."
The young Jedi stared at him for a long time before he nodded. Retrieving his blade Kyp heaved a deep sigh. "I hate politics," he declared finally, making Anakin smile.
"But sometimes you have to live with them."
"I understand."
"Good. Again, do not follow us. Ah, Mister Glat. I thought that you might be around."
The reporter had edged around the corner timidly once it had become clear that there would be no blood-shed here. He grimaced at the Dark Lord in discomfort. "Where are you going?"
"Away."
"To hunt down those 'conspirators', if I heard correctly."
"Let me advise you that it is sometimes smarter to keep your mouth shut."
"Sir, I am a journalist!"
"Out to uncover the truth, I know. Unfortunately some people would kill you for knowing too much. Take care."
"I will, don't you worry."
"Durron, promise me to keep an eye on that man."
"If you say so," Kyp grumbled, shooting an annoyed glare at the reporter.
"Good. Jix, we are leaving."
"May the Force be with you, Lord Skywalker."
"And with you."
Turve was trembling with glee as he watched the two men leave. But the look on Durron's face as he turned towards him doused his good mood considerably. The young Jedi bent over his companion who was still lying on the ground.
"Damn!" he cursed. "He has been stunned." Running his hands over the other's chest he was frowning.
"What are you doing?" Turve asked, curious.
"Ridding him of the effects of the stun-bolt. He'll come to soon."
And really, it took Gantoris only a few moments to open his eyes again and take a deep breath. Kyp helped him up and for a while they conversed quietly, leaving Turve standing a little apart. The reporter did not mind. He had heard enough, after all. Now he only had to get this to Jellan. When the two Jedi had found him in the tapcafé he had been afraid that they might hand him over to the New Republic troops, but fortunately they had been too busy for that. Another nice addition to his final report. 'Jedi save the day'. That did sound nice, didn't it? And it would get him the Jedi Master's approval, too, he was certain of that. After all, they did need some good publicity, right?
"Mister Glat. If you are coming...?"
"Sure, sure. Can I make a call first?"
Jellan seemed to be a bit on edge when he got on the line, his eyes looking red and bleary. Even his voice sounded tired.
"What is it?"
"I know what they will do next."
"Oh, good. We can cut that into your previous report too."
"Great! Well. Apparently they want to put and end to corruption in the New Republic."
"What!" Jellan exclaimed, but then his lips contorted into an amused smile. "Are you sure? A truly monumental task."
"Yes, they said—"
"It doesn't matter."
"You mean you don't want that in tonight's report?"
"No, too early for that, I think."
"Why? The New Republic knows that I am here, and it's not as if they could blame the company for doing anything illegal just because I happened to talk to Vader." The smile appearing on Jellan's face was decidedly too predatory for Turve's taste.
"You aren't considering to follow them there, my man, are you?"
"Well, I thought—"
"Are you mad?"
"But it won't be any more dangerous than this."
"Sure, get yourself killed, why don't you? Listen, Turve, this is getting too big for you."
"Too big? I don't understand—"
"There is nothing to understand. Get your report done on your way here. I want you to do the presentation yourself."
"If you say so, Jellan..."
"Don't make me wait."
"Sure."
He remained seated in front of the now blank screen a bit longer, his thoughts tumbling through his head like a landslide. Unfortunately he found that they were repeating themselves constantly, echoing the words of both Kyp Durron and the Dark Lord. Who is this enemy? - Businessmen, politicians, you name it. They have power and they want to keep it. Why did Jellan not want the public to know about this conspiracy? And why had he forbidden Turve to follow Vader and Jixton? The possibilities ranged from a friend's honest concern to a very ugly picture of a cover-up. And after all that had happened Turve was inclined to rather believe the bad news.
So, what if Jellan was one of them? He had known about Vader's escape earlier than anyone else in the business. And he had set Turve on Jixton's trail, Jixton, who had been attacked shortly after, accusing the reporter of having staged those assaults. Hadn't the Corellian warned him? The secret. But why him? I see it as my duty to the people to uncover things that need to be uncovered. Remembering his own word to the Dark Lord Turve realized that he could either go back to Coruscant and pretend that nothing had happened, always living with the fear of becoming more than just a nuisance to Jellan. Or else he could uncover the truth, all of it. But how?
"Mister Glat, are you quite finished?" Kyp Durron was impatiently tapping his left foot on the duracrete, waiting in a respectable distance.
"Yes," Turve answered lamely, still caught up in his thoughts. Making up his mind he heaved himself out of the chair he had been occupying and walked over to the Jedi Knight as if in a trance. "There is something you should know," he said, shaking his head in quiet defeat.
Five hours later they took off from the Smuggler's Moon on their way to Coruscant.
Jix was slipping easily through the muddy marches that covered most of Ylesia's surface. But he was only peripherally aware of the cold and the humidity. His eyes were constantly searching the ground ahead for the easiest route through this tamed wilderness, looking out for possible threats. Behind him the Dark Lord was moving soundlessly, shielding them from prying eyes. They would use the same way Jix had followed to get out of the facility on Ylesia to get in. Of course there would be more security now, but Vader was even more adept at dealing with machinery than Jix. Together they should have no problem getting past the facility's defenses. In the back of his mind he could feel the desert being tremble with anticipation. He had been keeping unusually quiet and Jix was wondering what exactly was on the being's mind. Maybe the alien was afraid of going back where he had died, and on the other hand, perhaps he was even hoping to have his revenge. Whatever it was, Jix would be content if only he kept silent some more, instead of distracting him. And he hoped that the being would again take care of disabling the transmitter. If not... If not, Jix would in the worst case become a liability.
But when the facility finally came into view he threw all doubts over board. This was it. When he had first made is choice to escape he had only wanted to run as far as he could, not caring what happened to anyone else. He had been selfish, even though he had convinced himself quite successfully that this was a wholly natural reaction to the circumstances. He had wanted to survive, nothing more. But in a way he had always known that he could not get out of this that easily. The fact that they had tried to hunt him down by all means available to them had only convinced him he was the only one who knew the truth and could betray it to the wrong people. The truth. What he had told Vader back on Coruscant had been only half of it. But he knew the Sith well enough not to want to risk his wrath. For if the Dark Lord had known... Jix shook his head slightly.
If he had known that his actions had been manipulated on more than one level, causing him to make decisions that he had resented at the time he had had to make them... His fury would have known no bounds. And Palpatine could not have risked that. Not as long as the slightest chance had existed that Vader could overcome his influence and kill his master. Betrayal and deception were something the Dark Lord did not tolerate. That, as well as inefficiency or greed. To choose the more inefficient method to goad him into giving more credit to the development of new technologies, regardless of whether innocents got killed in the process, that was something that not even the Emperor would have been able to moderate.
It may break Vader's heart, but once they got the information confirming all this from the facility's mainframe they could revoke the sentence. And he would live, despite everything that had happened and what he had done. Of course Jix knew that at first it would increase the other's guilty feeling immensely, but in time they could convince him that it was better than to die for something he had not wanted, deep down. And yet Jix could hear the Dark Lord's hoarse voice whisper in his mind: It is not what I did, but what I did not know. That is what I am guilty of and nothing else.
Following Wrenga Jixton, Anakin was pondering his own questions, but he did not let them distract him for long. There was a mission to accomplish and they had better stay sharp. Jix had told him everything he could remember of the facility's security system, but he had a feeling that they would not encounter too many difficulties. They were being expected, by his estimate. And this meant that, under certain circumstances, Jix would not be master of himself anymore. Anakin would rather not have him depend on that desert alien's strength in overcoming the transmitter's influence. Still, he would not sacrifice the Corellian either. So, in essence, everything depended on himself. Again.
Not that he would tell Jix to the face, but it was better to work with your own odds than let others impose them on you. Yet, if they failed here, Leia would have a hard time getting the New Republic out of this mess. They could force her to do absolutely anything and she could not know where to look for her adversaries first. So he and Jix simply had to succeed. It was that easy. He smiled a bit at the thought, remembering Jix' confident words back on Nar Shadaa. It's us. A most efficient assassin with an alien residing in his head and an aged warlord who was getting increasingly sentimental. What a team. But still, they were the best. Nevertheless, despite their past accomplishments, Anakin was far from giving himself over to delusions of grandeur. That would have been a fatal mistake. No, he could and would not underestimate his enemies. As he would not overestimate himself or Jixton either.
They had chosen to move swiftly and they had been lucky to arrive on Ylesia by nightfall. This way the darkness too would cover their assault. Jix led the way to an old riverbed filled with stinking sludge, but apparently it was the only way that was half as well guarded as any other possible route. Walking into the mouth of a huge sewage tunnel leading under the facility Anakin assessed the security system rationally. There were motion sensors he could disable easily and two heavy, barred gates to bypass. Obviously these measures were meant to discourage any vermin to infiltrate the complex.
Working their way further, Jix increasingly passed over the assignments to Anakin, trusting his abilities more than himself. It was, in a way, a precaution, because they could not know if they were already being tracked through the transmitter. Even though the Dark Lord could feel no anxiety or anticipation from the facility's many occupants. Everything seemed normal to them. Well, maybe it was normal for people trying to break in here. And maybe they were just waiting for them.
"Control room is this way," Jix hissed once they had forgone the canalization for the ventilation system. The heat was getting nearly unbearable and Anakin could only guess at the amount of energy the facility had to be using. It was gigantic. But nothing could prepare him for what awaited them in what Jix referred to as the 'rat hole'. It was a huge pit, with galleries lining the walls, thousands of blinking panels and monitors. Anakin's mouth nearly dropped open when he realized the magnitude of the facility. Turning his eyes toward the huge control boards he felt his mind freeze at the sheer monumentality of the task ahead.
"We cannot simply blow up this fortress. There is no telling what kind of disasters that might spark."
A scream from Jix brought his head around. The Corellian had dropped to his knees on the floor, his hands pressed against his temples desperately. Anakin rushed to his side immediately, but at the same moment he became aware of the upper galleries slowly filling up. The guards bore weapons of various designs and he did not know any of those. Their owners certainly looked pretty confident with them.
"Jix, are you alright?" he whispered, keeping his senses alert.
"My head," the other man hissed. "Hurts like — ah!"
"Shh. Calm down. Relax." He let the palm of his left hand glide over Jix' forehead, numbing the pain center in his brain carefully.
"Thanks."
"You are welcome."
"And you are too," a new voice announced cheerfully and the Jedi Lord rose gracefully to give the newcomer a stern look. He was a tall Anzat, his brownish complexion nearly perfectly matching the color of his thick hair. A predatory smile was fixed on his lips and Anakin could see his dark eyes gleam dangerously. "Jixton. You are back. Who is your friend?"
Anakin watched the white-clad Anzat with disdain. He did not like their species at all.
"Who are you?"
"I am Doctor Loaz, at your service." The alien bowed mockingly in his direction. "I know who you are, of course. The very much feared Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Vader, formerly Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. I have always wanted to meet you."
"Really. Why?"
"You are aware of my species' way of life, I assume. Someone like you knows a great many things and I suppose you know more than most alive."
"I know what you are, yes."
"Then you know what I want from you too."
Anakin's hands clenched into fists, but he kept his anger in check. Of course he knew. The Anazati fed on emotions, on their prey's very essence and being. Their bond to the Force was great indeed, even if most were not even aware of it. But he could see the fleshy pockets at the side of Loaz' nose flap hungrily, ready to release the prehensile proboscii hidden there. The Anzat was definitely liking what he could scent of him.There had been an Anzati assassin he had employed once years ago, he had called himself Dannik Jericho.
They had talked about the Anzati for a while and it had been - interesting - if only because their conversation had shown Anakin that people like himself were nothing but most exquisite prey for the Anzati. Not a position he had liked to see himself in ever. Jericho had elaborated greatly on the thrill the hunt brought him, the sense of danger, the committment and the courage he treasured in his victims. And the Dark Lord could identify the same enthusiasm in Loaz' eyes that he remembered seeing in the assassin's. Well, maybe it was time to show the Anzat that he was not so easily overwhelmed.
"What makes you think you could ever take on me?"
"Ah, that is a good question. You see, I don't have to. All I have to do is convince you that it would be for the best if you simply did not fight me."
"A truly impossible feat," Anakin snarled.
"Of course, you are a warrior, a fighter. That is what makes you so rich in—substance. I can taste your anger, your fear, your contempt. All that and more. Are you really willing to risk everything on this mission?"
"I would not be here otherwise."
"Indeed. By the way, did you know that your grandchildren have come down with the flu?"
"What has that got to do with anything?"
"Nothing and all. You may be interested in the fact that vaccination was a bit unorthodox. They were inserted with a microscopic capsule containing a quite deadly virus. It will kill a human child in three hours at the most."
"You bastard."
"Now we are getting somewhere. And the fact that you do not question me tells me that you know much indeed. We are everywhere. There is no escape. And even the great, invincible Darth Vader will bow to us. Or rather, to me."
Loaz came towards him with a smile on his face, his slender arms reaching out as if to embrace him. Anakin took a step back, shaking his head in disgust when the proboscii flicked out of their hidden pockets at him, eager and greedy. But he hesitated. He could not risk the lives of the children. Not just like that. There had to be another way. What if Loaz was only bluffing? What if he could break free and get to them in time? What if–?
And still Loaz came on. Time was running out. Making his mind up Anakin slapped the Anzat's hands away.
"No!"
The force of the blow spun the doctor around once, but his species was far stronger and faster than they looked at first appearance. In an instance Loaz was standing so close that Anakin could feel the heat of his body on his skin. He tried to jerk his head back, but too late. The proboscii slid into his nostrils and up his nose, further into the brain, paralyzing him at once. But Anakin was not prepared to give up just yet. He tried to break free once more, but Loaz' fingers dug into his shoulders like claws, slowly pushing him down to his knees. Looking up Anakin could see the look of pure ecstasy in the Anzat's eyes.
It was the look of someone who had tasted true power over another being, the greatest power of all, the power over life and death. He could feel his mind and consciousness slip away, leaving him running behind, trying to catch up with his life. It could not end like this! But the only thing he was aware of in this world between life and death were his own moans of agony. Closing his eyes Anakin gathered his senses one last time.
Jix stood rooted in place, unable to move at all. He was staring at the frozen tableau spread out before him, more frightening than anything he had ever seen before.
Loaz was bent over the Dark Lord, holding him as tightly as a lover would, locked in a fierce and passionate kiss of death. And the Jedi did not stir, although his eyes were open and tears were streaming down his paling face. It was so alien to see Vader in a position that was this submissive. He was the one who was always in control, of others and himself. But he was helpless now, no longer the predator but the prey. The sight froze the marrow in Jix' bones and he felt as if it was his life the Anzat was feeding on, not the Dark Lord's.
And then, very suddenly, the spell broke and Loaz was thrown back against the far wall, his arms and legs spread out at his sides. He landed hard, his head bouncing against the plasteel, before he slid down to the floor. Almost immediately the Corellian's eyes whipped toward Vader again to see him reeling on his knees, wiping his left hand over his face that was fixed in a primal snarl.
All around the guards were shouldering their weapons and the clicking sound of locks being eased rang throughout the chamber. The Dark Lord clambered to his feet unsteadily and by the time he had managed to finally balance himself on shaky legs the Anzat had recovered already. He was smiling at the tall warrior pleasantly and nodded in satisfaction.
"Your resistance only makes this more enjoyable for me, you know? That willingness to risk everything, to step over the edge, adds a spicy flavor to the whole ritual."
"Save your breath," Vader hissed.
"I would advise you to do the same," the doctor replied coolly and drew a small tube from his white overcoat. "And for now you should rest."
Vader caught the small projectile aimed at him in mid-air, more a reflex than anything else, and Loaz broke into hearty laughter at the other's stunned expression when it suddenly broke apart in a tiny explosion. Walking toward the Dark Lord, who was retreating a bit, still staring at his now bleeding right hand, he shook his head in disdain.
"Quite an impressive effort. Nevertheless futile. The sedative will leave you conscious. But do not believe that you could escape its effects by slipping into a trance of some sort. I have made sure that you will not be able to concentrate for long. A few minutes at the most, by my estimate, keeping in mind that you are a very powerful Force-user. Which would explain why you could react at all. As I said, very impressive indeed."
The Dark Lord was staring murder at him, but Jix could see that he was weakened. He was holding himself upright against the wall, trying to keep his balance. Suddenly his legs refused to support him any longer and he dropped to the floor, face down. The Corellian swallowed hard. All eyes were on the Sith. Time to make his move.