First Knight - Part Twenty-Eight
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Auna and Obi-Wan, both wrapped in their animal furs, made their way through the Whiphid camp. The wind, as always, was sharp and fierce and seemed to cut even through the thick layers of their wraps. The sun had just crested the horizon and its light was already turning the frigid landscape into a blinding white terrain of seemingly infinite vistas of ice and snow. The sky was a crystal clear blue and reminded Obi-Wan of the inside of a Eriusian vase.
Auna was guiding Obi-Wan to where she had told him Big Yezun was waiting for them. The Whiphid chief, now seen at his full height, towered over the Whiphids who surrounded him, and none of them were less than 2 meters tall. They were gathered about what Obi-Wan could see was a repulsor snow-sled. Probably one of the items the Whiphids had stolen from Douro's camp.
Stopping in front of Big Yezun, Obi-Wan bowed deeply. As he rose, he saw the Whiphid chief gesturing to the Whiphid translator from the day before. Zaka hurried over. The chief spoke to him. Zaka turned to Obi-Wan.
"Big Yezun say you can take snow-sled, but must bring back."
"I will, I promise."
"He also say I go along as guide for you."
Obi-Wan smiled. "I will be happy to have you as my guide, Zaka."
Zaka quickly translated Obi-Wan's words to Big Yezun. The chief spoke some words to Zaka. He nodded and turned around.
"Big Yezun say Je-di not forget. If Je-di want weapon back, Je-di bring back White Eyes head."
Obi-Wan didn't respond to that. He merely looked at Big Yezun. Big Yezun stared back at Obi-Wan for a long moment; then, with his entourage surrounding him, left Obi-Wan, Auna and Zaka alone.
"Well, I guess this is it, Master Kenobi," Auna said. "Umm, ya be careful, ya hear? Don't underestimate Douro. He's a mad one, but smart, so that means he's dangerous." Then she moved close to him and whispered in his ear, her eyes sliding over to Zaka. "Don't worry about ya lightsaber. I know ya don't want to have to kill nobody to get it back, so I'll see if I can filch it for ya."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, Auna. Do nothing that could get you into trouble," he said in a low voice. "I'll worry about my lightsaber when I get back."
Auna shrugged and stepped away from him. "If ya say so, Master Kenobi. I'll work on the ship so it'll be space-worthy when ya get back."
"Thank you, Auna."
She nodded and gave him a small smile. Moving towards the repulsor sled she picked up a bag and showed it to him.
"They let me put in some stuff I bought from the ship. There's a pair of macrobinoculars in here, along with a medpac, a couple of extra energy cells, a vibroblade and a visor to keep the wind out of ya eyes."
Obi-Wan went over and took the bag. "Thank you, Auna. I don't know how I will ever repay you."
"Just get Sinja-Bau so ya can save your wee one's mother."
"I will."
Then, surprising even himself, Obi-Wan leaned over and kissed her cheek. It was cold from the wind, but he imagined his lips were just as cold. He pulled away. Auna looked at him for a moment, her cheeks red, but not just from the wind, her violet eyes full. Then she shook her head and pushed him away.
"Ah, get out of here, will ya," she said grumpily. "Yar wasting daylight."
She quickly turned away and, the wind tearing at her wrap of animal skins, marched over the snow and back into the interior of the camp. Obi-Wan watched her until she disappeared. He turned and looked at Zaka. The Whiphid was staring at him with his long black eyes.
"Ready, Je-di?"
"Yes, let's go."
The Whiphid climbed into the passenger seat of the repulsor sled. He barely squeezed in. Obi-Wan got in the driver's seat. He took the metal visor from out of the bag and placed it over his eyes. Reaching down, he activated the sled and, with a soft hum, he and Zaka were soon speeding over the ground in the direction the Whiphid had indicated as leading towards Douro's camp.
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Tsara blinked as her blindfold was removed. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light. She looked around. She was in a non-descript room, bare of both furniture, wall hangings or floor coverings. Nothing was in it to suggest what province she was in, what kind of building the room was located in or whether the owner was wealthy or poor.
Tsara, as she had done years before, had contacted the Red Tide using the secret way given to her by a long-dead associate. Wearing a long robe with a hood and a veil that concealed her face, for she'd had to return secretly to the capital of her former province in order to do this, she had gone to a small antique shop in a run-down section of the city.
There she had purchased a black, dragon-shaped statuette from the shop keeper. Once the statuette was in her hands, she had examined it and told the shop keeper she preferred one in red. The shop keeper, taking the black dragon back, instructed her to wait in a park just down the street and he would have a red dragon delivered to her.
Tsara left the shop and went to the park. Not long after she had taken her seat on a bench near a grove of tress, a young man, dressed in loose, fawn- colored tunic and pants, dark of hair with storm-gray eyes, walked over to her. He asked if she was waiting for delivery of a red dragon. She nodded. The young man gestured for her to accompany him out of the park. She followed him to a repulsor-car with blacked-out windows. She entered the car. She saw for a moment the sun-burned, muscular neck of the driver before the young man, as he sat next to her in the back seat, blindfolded her after allowing her to lower her hood and remove her veil.
After a somewhat lengthy drive, the car had stopped. Tsara was led out of it and taken up some stairs, still blindfolded. She had sensed she was walking down a series of hallways. Then she had been brought to this room. After removing her blindfold, her young guide had stepped to the side and stood at attention. Now, heart pounding, Tsara looked over at the leader of the Red Tide.
He was of medium height and build, dressed in a dark purple jacket that was smartly fashioned. He wore matching colored pants which were tucked into ankle-high black boots. They were, Tsara saw, made of fine saksonian leather. A gold and purple sash was tied about his trim waist.
His face was slightly rounded with a large aquiline nose, wide, fleshy lips and deeply set, storm-sea eyes. Hair, thick and black, crowned his high forehead and there were broad streaks of gray at the temple. If Tsara hadn't recognized him from their previous dealing, when she had hired him to eliminate a political rival of her husband's, she would have thought he was a banker or a prosperous landowner.
"Lady Tsara," the man said as he bowed deeply to her, his voice both smooth and gravely. "A pleasure to see you again."
"And you, Latan," she responded.
"It has been many years since last you called upon my services," Latan said with a smile. "It was when your husband was still alive."
"You were a young man then, Latan, but it would appear that time has been good to you."
He shrugged his broad shoulders. "I take care of myself. Despite your recent troubles, you don't look so bad yourself," he commented, referring to the rich, opulent robe and gown she was wearing.
"I survive, Latan. I always have and I always will."
"Of that I have no doubt. Now, what may I do for you Lady Tsara?"
"If you have heard of my troubles, then you know my current situation."
Latan nodded. "There is not much that happens on Ahjane the Red Tide does not know of."
"Then you know that my son, K'lia, has two Jedi staying with him, guarding my great-grandson."
"We have heard."
Tsara cleared her throat. "I want you to get my great-grandson and deliver him to me."
"And?"
"Excuse me?"
Latan tilted his head and gave Tsara a sly smile.
"Is that all you want us to do, Lady Tsara?"
Tsara bit her lip. She glanced at the young man who had brought her here. His face was impassive, but his dark gray eyes glittered as he gazed over at her. Tsara looked back at Latan.
"Well, if in the process of obtaining my great-grandson, if by chance, there were a few deaths..." And she shrugged.
Latan raised a thick, black eyebrow. "Only a few?"
"I don't want my great-grandson harmed," she said quickly.
"Have no fear of that. Is there anyone else you would like to see remain unharmed? That lovely granddaughter of yours, perhaps?"
"If it were left up to me, I would not have you bother about sparing her, but Jerule has his eye on her. Bring her along with the child."
Latan nodded. "And what of your son, Dynast K'lia? Shall he be spared?"
Tsara's face twisted with anger. "He banished me! Does that answer your question?"
"I understand. And the two Jedi?"
Tsara clasped her hands and twisted them tight. Count Dooku had warned her explicitly that Skywalker was not to be harmed. Tsara had no idea why someone like the Count was interested in that spawn of the devil. She gripped her hands tighter.
"The young Jedi....is not to be killed," she finally spat out. Then her eyes narrowed. "But, if by chance, he were to be injured in some way that was especially painful..."
Latan inclined his head and smiled. "Understood. Now, as to our fee."
Tsara reached into one of the pockets in her robe. She pulled out a thin, silver disk.
"250,000 decales. Half your customary fee. I'll give you the rest when the baby is mine."
Latan shook his head. "No need, Lady Tsara. Keep the rest of your money."
Tsara's eyes widened. "What?"
Latan gestured over to the young man who had brought her to see him.
"My son is eager to test his skills against the Jedi. We will do this for half our regular fee."
The young man stepped forward and bowed to Tsara. She now saw the family resemblance. The boy had Latan's deep set storm-gray eyes and the same cruel cast to his wide mouth.
"At your service, Lady Tsara. My name is Rhad. My father is correct. The fighting skills of the Jedi are renowned throughout the galaxy. I look forward to finally encountering one."
Lady Tsara eyed him for a moment, then turned back to Latan.
"My son will lead the raid," he told her in answer to the look on her face. He glanced over at Rhad. "What do you think? Fifteen men?"
Rhad shook his head, his eyes burning. "I will need only ten, Father."
Tsara frowned. "Are you sure ten will be enough? I've made plans so that the Assembly guards who are now stationed at the manor will be pulled away, but these are Jedi we're talking about."
Latan smiled and shook his head. "Trust my son's judgment, Lady Tsara. I speak not just as a proud father when I say that Rhad is the finest warrior in the Red Tide."
Rhad again bowed to Tsara, his wide mouth stretched in a smile. Tsara frowned at him. She wasn't sure about this young pup leading the raid. She had hoped it would be Latan, but it wasn't for her to decide, and she was well aware that the mercenaries employed by the Red Tide were not only dangerous, they were reliable. As far as she knew they had never failed in any commission they had been given.
"Well, I'll trust in your judgment, Latan. But, it must be done quickly," Tsara said. "There is another Jedi involved in this, but this one isn't a boy or a physician. This one, Kenobi, is one of the Jedi Order's finest warriors, or so I've been told. I want this done before he returns."
"Understood. Though it's a pity we can't wait for him." Latan grinned over at his son. "I think Rhad would enjoy the challenge."
Tsara frowned. If Latan's son wanted the challenge of going up against Kenobi, she thought irritably, he could do so on his own time. She wanted her great-grandson in her possession before that meddlesome Jedi returned.
"What do you need me to do?" she asked Latan as she handed over the money- disk.
Latan took it and slipped it into a pocket of his jacket.
"When do you plan to have the Assembly guards pulled from the manor?" he asked.
"In a few days. The day after they leave, I will have the security droids deactivated. I have someone in the manor, a servant still loyal to me, who will do this. But, I would ask one thing more of you. I want to come along. I want to be there when it happens."
Latan raised his eyebrows. He looked over at his son who merely shrugged.
"It is somewhat unprecedented, Lady Tsara," Latan said to her. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," Tsara hissed, her fists clenched. "I want to be there. I want to see the looks on their faces. On all their deceitful, traitorous faces."
"As long as you are aware of the risk, Lady Tsara, so be it. My son will contact you when he is ready to strike."
Tsara nodded. "Now, remember" she said, raising a bony finger and shaking it, "I do not want my great-grandson killed."
"Or your granddaughter and the young Jedi, correct?" Latan added, his lips curled up in a knowing smile.
Tsara was about to say she didn't care what happened to either of them, but she bit her lip. She had promised Jerule he could have Onara and there was still Dooku's warning about the Jedi brat, but she wished with all her heart the Count had never spoken it to her.
"Yes," she said with a hard jerk of her head, her mouth tight. "They are to be spared. But," and she leaned towards Latan, "if the young Jedi should happen to be hurt in some way...."
Latan smiled. "We'll keep it in mind." He gestured towards Rhad. "My son will take you back to the park where he met you."
Tsara closed her eyes as Rhad tied the blindfold about them. She felt his hand on her arm as he turned her towards the door.
"Goodbye, Lady Tsara," she heard Latan say from behind the darkness of her blindfold. "A pleasure doing business with you, as always."
Tsara nodded and let herself be led from the room, out of the building and back into the repulsor car. Once the car stopped after its long drive, her blindfold was removed and, putting her veil back on and covering her head with the hood of her robe, she was allowed to exit the car. As she stood next to it, Rhad looked up at her from the back seat.
"How much pain do you want the young Jedi to suffer, Lady Tsara?" he asked.
"Anything short of death would be satisfactory," she replied.
She was about to add that if Skywalker's death couldn't be avoided, that was fine too, but she didn't. Rhad nodded, grinning. He closed the door of the repulsor car and it sped away. Tsara watched it merge into the traffic of the capital. She then made her way to the antique shop where a vehicle, along with a driver, which Jerule had loaned her was waiting. Not long now, Tsara thought, as she climbed into the vehicle and signaled the driver she was ready to return to Kindah province.
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The wind tore at Obi-Wan's face as he raced the snow-speeder across the frigid landscape of Toola. His brow was furrowed, but not just from the biting cold. He and Zaka were only a few kilometers out from the Whiphid camp. Zaka had informed him they would be arriving at Doruo's camp in about two hours.
Obi-Wan had decided that once they got there, since it would still be daylight, he would do a reconnaissance of the camp, then wait until nightfall to enter it. His plan was to get Sinja-Bau away without coming into contact with either Douro or his men. He could only hope that, despite her madness, she would come willingly with him. And if she didn't? he thought. He frowned as his mind grappled with that horrible possibility.
Then he felt Zaka pulling at his arm. He looked at the Whiphid. Over the roar of the wind he saw Zaka was yelling and gesturing for him to stop. Obi- Wan did so, the snow-speeder thrumming softly as it floated on its repulsor field. Obi-Wan pulled down his visor.
"What is it, Zaka?" he asked, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. His need to get to Douro's camp was like a fever in his blood.
Zaka didn't answer at first. He swung his big head around as if looking for something in the surrounding landscape. Obi-Wan followed his gaze. There was nothing to see but ice and snow. He looked back at Zaka. Apparently satisfied they weren't being watched, the Whiphid reached back into the storage section of the speeder. He grunted as he dug around. Once he had what he was looking for he turned towards Obi-Wan.
"For you, Je-di."
Obi-Wan looked at the leather pouch in Zaka's hand. He took it and something almost akin to an electric shock raced through him as he felt what was inside the pouch. He quickly opened it and pulled out his lightsaber. He looked over at Zaka, his eyes wide.
"What are you doing with this?" he asked.
"Big Yezun no understand. Je-di and weapon one." Zaka put his hands together and gripped them. "Zaka understand this. Zaka been out among the stars. Learn of Je-di. Fighters of the Light who carry blades of light. Not right for Big Yezun keep Je-di weapon."
"But how did you get it?"
Zaka shrugged his hairy shoulders. "Zaka take it."
Obi-Wan shook his head but he was smiling at the Whiphid.
"But what happens when Big Yezun discovers it's missing and that you had something to do with it? Won't you be punished?"
Zaka nodded solemnly.
"Banished Zaka will be. But," and Zaka tilted his head back and looked up at the sky, "Zaka ready go back to stars. Boring here."
Obi-Wan grinned and, reaching over, grasped Zaka's thick, hairy arm.
"Thank you, Zaka. If you are banished and you wish to go back among the stars, you can come with Auna and me when we leave."
Zaka nodded. He watched, his long black eyes glittering in the bright sunlight, as Obi-Wan dug among his fur wraps and attached the lightsaber to the belt under his tunic. He hadn't realized how much he had missed his weapon. He had not let himself dwell too much on its absence on this last and most important leg of his quest, for his philosophy had always been to make do with whatever resources he had, but now that he had his lightsaber again, he had to admit, he felt stronger and more confident. Once it was securely hooked to his belt, he looked over at Zaka.
"Thank you again, my friend," he said warmly.
Zaka nodded, then silently pointed in the direction they had been headed. Obi-Wan smiled as he pulled the visor back over his eyes and engaged the snow-speeder.
Hold on, my love, he thought, as he sent a silent plea across the endless darkness of the galaxy toward Ahjane. Not much longer. The wind once again tore at Obi-Wan's face as he and Zaka raced towards Douro's camp, but this time he was smiling in the face of it.
To be continued....
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Auna and Obi-Wan, both wrapped in their animal furs, made their way through the Whiphid camp. The wind, as always, was sharp and fierce and seemed to cut even through the thick layers of their wraps. The sun had just crested the horizon and its light was already turning the frigid landscape into a blinding white terrain of seemingly infinite vistas of ice and snow. The sky was a crystal clear blue and reminded Obi-Wan of the inside of a Eriusian vase.
Auna was guiding Obi-Wan to where she had told him Big Yezun was waiting for them. The Whiphid chief, now seen at his full height, towered over the Whiphids who surrounded him, and none of them were less than 2 meters tall. They were gathered about what Obi-Wan could see was a repulsor snow-sled. Probably one of the items the Whiphids had stolen from Douro's camp.
Stopping in front of Big Yezun, Obi-Wan bowed deeply. As he rose, he saw the Whiphid chief gesturing to the Whiphid translator from the day before. Zaka hurried over. The chief spoke to him. Zaka turned to Obi-Wan.
"Big Yezun say you can take snow-sled, but must bring back."
"I will, I promise."
"He also say I go along as guide for you."
Obi-Wan smiled. "I will be happy to have you as my guide, Zaka."
Zaka quickly translated Obi-Wan's words to Big Yezun. The chief spoke some words to Zaka. He nodded and turned around.
"Big Yezun say Je-di not forget. If Je-di want weapon back, Je-di bring back White Eyes head."
Obi-Wan didn't respond to that. He merely looked at Big Yezun. Big Yezun stared back at Obi-Wan for a long moment; then, with his entourage surrounding him, left Obi-Wan, Auna and Zaka alone.
"Well, I guess this is it, Master Kenobi," Auna said. "Umm, ya be careful, ya hear? Don't underestimate Douro. He's a mad one, but smart, so that means he's dangerous." Then she moved close to him and whispered in his ear, her eyes sliding over to Zaka. "Don't worry about ya lightsaber. I know ya don't want to have to kill nobody to get it back, so I'll see if I can filch it for ya."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, Auna. Do nothing that could get you into trouble," he said in a low voice. "I'll worry about my lightsaber when I get back."
Auna shrugged and stepped away from him. "If ya say so, Master Kenobi. I'll work on the ship so it'll be space-worthy when ya get back."
"Thank you, Auna."
She nodded and gave him a small smile. Moving towards the repulsor sled she picked up a bag and showed it to him.
"They let me put in some stuff I bought from the ship. There's a pair of macrobinoculars in here, along with a medpac, a couple of extra energy cells, a vibroblade and a visor to keep the wind out of ya eyes."
Obi-Wan went over and took the bag. "Thank you, Auna. I don't know how I will ever repay you."
"Just get Sinja-Bau so ya can save your wee one's mother."
"I will."
Then, surprising even himself, Obi-Wan leaned over and kissed her cheek. It was cold from the wind, but he imagined his lips were just as cold. He pulled away. Auna looked at him for a moment, her cheeks red, but not just from the wind, her violet eyes full. Then she shook her head and pushed him away.
"Ah, get out of here, will ya," she said grumpily. "Yar wasting daylight."
She quickly turned away and, the wind tearing at her wrap of animal skins, marched over the snow and back into the interior of the camp. Obi-Wan watched her until she disappeared. He turned and looked at Zaka. The Whiphid was staring at him with his long black eyes.
"Ready, Je-di?"
"Yes, let's go."
The Whiphid climbed into the passenger seat of the repulsor sled. He barely squeezed in. Obi-Wan got in the driver's seat. He took the metal visor from out of the bag and placed it over his eyes. Reaching down, he activated the sled and, with a soft hum, he and Zaka were soon speeding over the ground in the direction the Whiphid had indicated as leading towards Douro's camp.
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Tsara blinked as her blindfold was removed. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light. She looked around. She was in a non-descript room, bare of both furniture, wall hangings or floor coverings. Nothing was in it to suggest what province she was in, what kind of building the room was located in or whether the owner was wealthy or poor.
Tsara, as she had done years before, had contacted the Red Tide using the secret way given to her by a long-dead associate. Wearing a long robe with a hood and a veil that concealed her face, for she'd had to return secretly to the capital of her former province in order to do this, she had gone to a small antique shop in a run-down section of the city.
There she had purchased a black, dragon-shaped statuette from the shop keeper. Once the statuette was in her hands, she had examined it and told the shop keeper she preferred one in red. The shop keeper, taking the black dragon back, instructed her to wait in a park just down the street and he would have a red dragon delivered to her.
Tsara left the shop and went to the park. Not long after she had taken her seat on a bench near a grove of tress, a young man, dressed in loose, fawn- colored tunic and pants, dark of hair with storm-gray eyes, walked over to her. He asked if she was waiting for delivery of a red dragon. She nodded. The young man gestured for her to accompany him out of the park. She followed him to a repulsor-car with blacked-out windows. She entered the car. She saw for a moment the sun-burned, muscular neck of the driver before the young man, as he sat next to her in the back seat, blindfolded her after allowing her to lower her hood and remove her veil.
After a somewhat lengthy drive, the car had stopped. Tsara was led out of it and taken up some stairs, still blindfolded. She had sensed she was walking down a series of hallways. Then she had been brought to this room. After removing her blindfold, her young guide had stepped to the side and stood at attention. Now, heart pounding, Tsara looked over at the leader of the Red Tide.
He was of medium height and build, dressed in a dark purple jacket that was smartly fashioned. He wore matching colored pants which were tucked into ankle-high black boots. They were, Tsara saw, made of fine saksonian leather. A gold and purple sash was tied about his trim waist.
His face was slightly rounded with a large aquiline nose, wide, fleshy lips and deeply set, storm-sea eyes. Hair, thick and black, crowned his high forehead and there were broad streaks of gray at the temple. If Tsara hadn't recognized him from their previous dealing, when she had hired him to eliminate a political rival of her husband's, she would have thought he was a banker or a prosperous landowner.
"Lady Tsara," the man said as he bowed deeply to her, his voice both smooth and gravely. "A pleasure to see you again."
"And you, Latan," she responded.
"It has been many years since last you called upon my services," Latan said with a smile. "It was when your husband was still alive."
"You were a young man then, Latan, but it would appear that time has been good to you."
He shrugged his broad shoulders. "I take care of myself. Despite your recent troubles, you don't look so bad yourself," he commented, referring to the rich, opulent robe and gown she was wearing.
"I survive, Latan. I always have and I always will."
"Of that I have no doubt. Now, what may I do for you Lady Tsara?"
"If you have heard of my troubles, then you know my current situation."
Latan nodded. "There is not much that happens on Ahjane the Red Tide does not know of."
"Then you know that my son, K'lia, has two Jedi staying with him, guarding my great-grandson."
"We have heard."
Tsara cleared her throat. "I want you to get my great-grandson and deliver him to me."
"And?"
"Excuse me?"
Latan tilted his head and gave Tsara a sly smile.
"Is that all you want us to do, Lady Tsara?"
Tsara bit her lip. She glanced at the young man who had brought her here. His face was impassive, but his dark gray eyes glittered as he gazed over at her. Tsara looked back at Latan.
"Well, if in the process of obtaining my great-grandson, if by chance, there were a few deaths..." And she shrugged.
Latan raised a thick, black eyebrow. "Only a few?"
"I don't want my great-grandson harmed," she said quickly.
"Have no fear of that. Is there anyone else you would like to see remain unharmed? That lovely granddaughter of yours, perhaps?"
"If it were left up to me, I would not have you bother about sparing her, but Jerule has his eye on her. Bring her along with the child."
Latan nodded. "And what of your son, Dynast K'lia? Shall he be spared?"
Tsara's face twisted with anger. "He banished me! Does that answer your question?"
"I understand. And the two Jedi?"
Tsara clasped her hands and twisted them tight. Count Dooku had warned her explicitly that Skywalker was not to be harmed. Tsara had no idea why someone like the Count was interested in that spawn of the devil. She gripped her hands tighter.
"The young Jedi....is not to be killed," she finally spat out. Then her eyes narrowed. "But, if by chance, he were to be injured in some way that was especially painful..."
Latan inclined his head and smiled. "Understood. Now, as to our fee."
Tsara reached into one of the pockets in her robe. She pulled out a thin, silver disk.
"250,000 decales. Half your customary fee. I'll give you the rest when the baby is mine."
Latan shook his head. "No need, Lady Tsara. Keep the rest of your money."
Tsara's eyes widened. "What?"
Latan gestured over to the young man who had brought her to see him.
"My son is eager to test his skills against the Jedi. We will do this for half our regular fee."
The young man stepped forward and bowed to Tsara. She now saw the family resemblance. The boy had Latan's deep set storm-gray eyes and the same cruel cast to his wide mouth.
"At your service, Lady Tsara. My name is Rhad. My father is correct. The fighting skills of the Jedi are renowned throughout the galaxy. I look forward to finally encountering one."
Lady Tsara eyed him for a moment, then turned back to Latan.
"My son will lead the raid," he told her in answer to the look on her face. He glanced over at Rhad. "What do you think? Fifteen men?"
Rhad shook his head, his eyes burning. "I will need only ten, Father."
Tsara frowned. "Are you sure ten will be enough? I've made plans so that the Assembly guards who are now stationed at the manor will be pulled away, but these are Jedi we're talking about."
Latan smiled and shook his head. "Trust my son's judgment, Lady Tsara. I speak not just as a proud father when I say that Rhad is the finest warrior in the Red Tide."
Rhad again bowed to Tsara, his wide mouth stretched in a smile. Tsara frowned at him. She wasn't sure about this young pup leading the raid. She had hoped it would be Latan, but it wasn't for her to decide, and she was well aware that the mercenaries employed by the Red Tide were not only dangerous, they were reliable. As far as she knew they had never failed in any commission they had been given.
"Well, I'll trust in your judgment, Latan. But, it must be done quickly," Tsara said. "There is another Jedi involved in this, but this one isn't a boy or a physician. This one, Kenobi, is one of the Jedi Order's finest warriors, or so I've been told. I want this done before he returns."
"Understood. Though it's a pity we can't wait for him." Latan grinned over at his son. "I think Rhad would enjoy the challenge."
Tsara frowned. If Latan's son wanted the challenge of going up against Kenobi, she thought irritably, he could do so on his own time. She wanted her great-grandson in her possession before that meddlesome Jedi returned.
"What do you need me to do?" she asked Latan as she handed over the money- disk.
Latan took it and slipped it into a pocket of his jacket.
"When do you plan to have the Assembly guards pulled from the manor?" he asked.
"In a few days. The day after they leave, I will have the security droids deactivated. I have someone in the manor, a servant still loyal to me, who will do this. But, I would ask one thing more of you. I want to come along. I want to be there when it happens."
Latan raised his eyebrows. He looked over at his son who merely shrugged.
"It is somewhat unprecedented, Lady Tsara," Latan said to her. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," Tsara hissed, her fists clenched. "I want to be there. I want to see the looks on their faces. On all their deceitful, traitorous faces."
"As long as you are aware of the risk, Lady Tsara, so be it. My son will contact you when he is ready to strike."
Tsara nodded. "Now, remember" she said, raising a bony finger and shaking it, "I do not want my great-grandson killed."
"Or your granddaughter and the young Jedi, correct?" Latan added, his lips curled up in a knowing smile.
Tsara was about to say she didn't care what happened to either of them, but she bit her lip. She had promised Jerule he could have Onara and there was still Dooku's warning about the Jedi brat, but she wished with all her heart the Count had never spoken it to her.
"Yes," she said with a hard jerk of her head, her mouth tight. "They are to be spared. But," and she leaned towards Latan, "if the young Jedi should happen to be hurt in some way...."
Latan smiled. "We'll keep it in mind." He gestured towards Rhad. "My son will take you back to the park where he met you."
Tsara closed her eyes as Rhad tied the blindfold about them. She felt his hand on her arm as he turned her towards the door.
"Goodbye, Lady Tsara," she heard Latan say from behind the darkness of her blindfold. "A pleasure doing business with you, as always."
Tsara nodded and let herself be led from the room, out of the building and back into the repulsor car. Once the car stopped after its long drive, her blindfold was removed and, putting her veil back on and covering her head with the hood of her robe, she was allowed to exit the car. As she stood next to it, Rhad looked up at her from the back seat.
"How much pain do you want the young Jedi to suffer, Lady Tsara?" he asked.
"Anything short of death would be satisfactory," she replied.
She was about to add that if Skywalker's death couldn't be avoided, that was fine too, but she didn't. Rhad nodded, grinning. He closed the door of the repulsor car and it sped away. Tsara watched it merge into the traffic of the capital. She then made her way to the antique shop where a vehicle, along with a driver, which Jerule had loaned her was waiting. Not long now, Tsara thought, as she climbed into the vehicle and signaled the driver she was ready to return to Kindah province.
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The wind tore at Obi-Wan's face as he raced the snow-speeder across the frigid landscape of Toola. His brow was furrowed, but not just from the biting cold. He and Zaka were only a few kilometers out from the Whiphid camp. Zaka had informed him they would be arriving at Doruo's camp in about two hours.
Obi-Wan had decided that once they got there, since it would still be daylight, he would do a reconnaissance of the camp, then wait until nightfall to enter it. His plan was to get Sinja-Bau away without coming into contact with either Douro or his men. He could only hope that, despite her madness, she would come willingly with him. And if she didn't? he thought. He frowned as his mind grappled with that horrible possibility.
Then he felt Zaka pulling at his arm. He looked at the Whiphid. Over the roar of the wind he saw Zaka was yelling and gesturing for him to stop. Obi- Wan did so, the snow-speeder thrumming softly as it floated on its repulsor field. Obi-Wan pulled down his visor.
"What is it, Zaka?" he asked, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. His need to get to Douro's camp was like a fever in his blood.
Zaka didn't answer at first. He swung his big head around as if looking for something in the surrounding landscape. Obi-Wan followed his gaze. There was nothing to see but ice and snow. He looked back at Zaka. Apparently satisfied they weren't being watched, the Whiphid reached back into the storage section of the speeder. He grunted as he dug around. Once he had what he was looking for he turned towards Obi-Wan.
"For you, Je-di."
Obi-Wan looked at the leather pouch in Zaka's hand. He took it and something almost akin to an electric shock raced through him as he felt what was inside the pouch. He quickly opened it and pulled out his lightsaber. He looked over at Zaka, his eyes wide.
"What are you doing with this?" he asked.
"Big Yezun no understand. Je-di and weapon one." Zaka put his hands together and gripped them. "Zaka understand this. Zaka been out among the stars. Learn of Je-di. Fighters of the Light who carry blades of light. Not right for Big Yezun keep Je-di weapon."
"But how did you get it?"
Zaka shrugged his hairy shoulders. "Zaka take it."
Obi-Wan shook his head but he was smiling at the Whiphid.
"But what happens when Big Yezun discovers it's missing and that you had something to do with it? Won't you be punished?"
Zaka nodded solemnly.
"Banished Zaka will be. But," and Zaka tilted his head back and looked up at the sky, "Zaka ready go back to stars. Boring here."
Obi-Wan grinned and, reaching over, grasped Zaka's thick, hairy arm.
"Thank you, Zaka. If you are banished and you wish to go back among the stars, you can come with Auna and me when we leave."
Zaka nodded. He watched, his long black eyes glittering in the bright sunlight, as Obi-Wan dug among his fur wraps and attached the lightsaber to the belt under his tunic. He hadn't realized how much he had missed his weapon. He had not let himself dwell too much on its absence on this last and most important leg of his quest, for his philosophy had always been to make do with whatever resources he had, but now that he had his lightsaber again, he had to admit, he felt stronger and more confident. Once it was securely hooked to his belt, he looked over at Zaka.
"Thank you again, my friend," he said warmly.
Zaka nodded, then silently pointed in the direction they had been headed. Obi-Wan smiled as he pulled the visor back over his eyes and engaged the snow-speeder.
Hold on, my love, he thought, as he sent a silent plea across the endless darkness of the galaxy toward Ahjane. Not much longer. The wind once again tore at Obi-Wan's face as he and Zaka raced towards Douro's camp, but this time he was smiling in the face of it.
To be continued....