Captain Mager of the Jolly Star had not been overly thrilled to have his ship boarded by a badly patched-up man claiming to be a Jedi Master with an urgent message for Coruscant. He had demanded up-front payment, which Alamys had been unable to give, but with a little persuasion he had managed to get Mager to take him on board anyway. Just in time too. Evading Sidious in the space-port had been relatively easy, with so many people milling about, and with a master's skill of keeping his mind tranquil. And yet, with so many recent deaths lingering with the Sith Lord's presence, Alamys had had a hard time of retaining that needed calm. He kept his fury bottled inside himself, his grief sheltered deep within his heart. There was nothing he could do now anyway, and by getting his message to Coruscant he might be able to prevent further harm from happening. His right arm carried in a sling, he was hobbling after a Devaroian who was supposed to take him to his cabin.
The Jolly Star was crawling toward her jump-point steadily, when a blast of darkness rose from the planet, seemingly engulfing everything. Alamys choked on that darkness, feeling it claw into his mind with icy determination, and he felt helpless against it for just a moment. When it was over he slumped against the bulkhead and closed his eyes. If he was any judge it would have been Nexus who had just perished, probably slain for his failure by his own apprentice. Sidious had not struck him at particularly merciful concerning failure, and with Nexus having been infected with the Motha Virus, the younger Sith would have considered it a lesser risk to take on his master now than later.
"Are you okay?" someone asked in a slurred voice, and the Jedi Master opened his eyes again to gaze up at the Devaronian. The alien bared prominent fangs in a smile.
"Thank you, yes," Alamys breathed and gratefully took the offered hand. "Just a dizzy spell."
In fact, his head was not only spinning, but also hurting like mad. Cold sweat threatened to break on his forehead as he recalled the list of symptoms associated with the Motha Virus. Mava had diagnosed him with fever, and now headaches and dizzyness were breaking through too. Next would be aching muscles, paranoia, constant thirst and in the end bones that were so fragile that they would shatter like glass at the slightest pressure. Alamys felt all blood drain from his face, and the Devaronian hurriedly went to steady him. Propelling the Jedi Master toward the passenger cabin, the alien was shaking his head and muttering to himself. He placed Alamys on the single bunk and gazed at him thoughtfully.
"I don't know what happened to you, you understand," he said, "but if I were you, I'd go see a medic real soon."
Alamys gave a weak smile. "I will, don't worry."
"Guess you should catch some sleep for now, eh?"
"Yes."
But the Devaronian was already gone. Closing his eyes, Alamys felt his chest tighten with worry. He could not use the Force to heal himself, he knew, but could he use the Force at all, without accelerating the virus' growth? It felt right, somehow, and so, tentatively, he drew sleep around himself like a blanket, forcing his body to relax and his heart-beat to slow somewhat. He would get to Coruscant and talk to Master Yoda. He would tell them of the Sith on Zelos II, and the virus. Alamys shivered ever so slightly. Then darkness overwhelmed him at last.
With the ship bound for Naboo and locked in hyperspace, there was not much Sidious could do safe letting his thoughts wander over the most recent events. Nexus' death certainly had not come unexpected, and he surely did not mourn his former master. The only thing he regretted was that he had not leaned enough yet. He knew that there was more out there, that the Dark Side was much grander, much more powerful than what the Whiphid had taught him. Had to be. After all, had he not chosen that path for exactly the reason of exploring the power of darkness? Corruption, manipulation, greed and fear were all elements that he knew commanded most sentient beings' actions far better than those so-called light side powers. But Darth Nexus had not been able to bring that across. He had been content with exploiting his apprentice's power and knowledge for his own ends, his lessons sporadic and half-heartedly done.
Darth Sidious had been raised on Naboo, though. And on Naboo only the best and brightest rose to power. He wanted to be the best of the best, the brightest of the brightest, the most powerful of the powerful. Naboo politics bred ambition just as they bred wisdom. But wisdom was for those who lost to the top of the pack and had no other choice but to cultivate just that. Ambition and perfection was what would get one to the top. No, Sidious' apprenticeship had not yet ended, not before he knew that he was master. And, unfortunately, that feeling he had not just yet. Grimacing slightly, Sidious rose from his seat in the cockpit and walked back into the rec-area. It still reeked of brandy, an unwelcome reminder of the late Darth Nexus. Unbidden, Sidious' gaze was drawn to the small corner where they had kept Jorka on their way to Zelos II. Though a pathetic Jedi to the bone, the man had also been a master, undoubtedly. Sidious still felt envious as he remembered the ease and determination with which Alamys Jorka had confronted them back on Corellia, unafraid, sure of himself and utterly in control of the situation. Well. Almost in control.
Again doubts gushed Sidious' mind. A man as thorough as Alamys Jorka was would not have let Nexus live. Never. Then the truth hit him. It had not been Nexus, who had been infected with the virus, but the Jedi Master. That had been Nexus' plan all along, to continue Inyo Di'vitt's experiments. Well, well, well. This would change the situation immensely, if it were true. He had already set an alert in the appropriate channels, and if Alamys Jorka was spotted, he would be apprehended. Sidious smiled. As far as he had been able to tell, the paranoia was the first symptom that struck the victim, and in this case that was actually perfect. Jorka would soon find that he could not trust his friends on Coruscant after all. And with a little motivation he would be discouraged from spreading his story at all, until Sidious could find him again and bring him down. He laughed out loud. So, Alamys Jorka was caught in a web tighter than even Sidious could have spun it. He would be no problem. And that meant that the Sith Lord himself could return to his studies unpertubed. He frowned.
A hand slipped into the pocket of his cloak and closed around the holocron. There had to be a way to fool the gatekeeper into accepting him as Jedi, so he could exploit the knowledge stored inside the cube. Yes, it was Jedi lore, and no, he was no Jedi, never would be or desired to be, but perhaps he could still make use of the teachings stored within Master Jeldo's holocron. Somehow.
Alamys woke disoriented to the sound of some sort of alarm, and found that he had been plunged into a nightmare. Red emergency light bathed his small cabin in an eerie glow and he could barely see. Trying to work some moisture into his dry mouth he rose sluggishly and was thrown back onto his bunk when something impacted against the ship, shaking it hard. Suddenly the door to his cabin whooshed open and Captain Mager appeared, wild-eyed and reeking of fear. With determination Alamys struggled upright again, and a lance of pain stabbed down the entire length of his right thigh. Suppressing a wince, the Jedi Master gave the captain a nod.
"We are under attack?"
"Pirates!" Mager snapped. "If you really are who you claim to be you must help us!"
Alamys gave the man a cold glance, then pushed past him into the corridor, saying: "I will see what I can do."
The Devaronian, who had helped him to his cabin previously, followed Alamys and Mager to the bridge and wordlessly handed the Jedi Master a drinking container which he took thankfully. After a few sips to wet his parched throat, Alamys asked:
"How many ships?"
"Two Kaloth cruisers. They have an inderdiction field up," Mager groaned.
That was bad. An interdiction field would prevent the Jolly Star from making an escape into hyperspace, and if they were stranded somewhere in the middle of nowhere, that would mean that there wouldn't be any help coming either, if Mager's people had managed to get a call through at all.
"What kind of cargo are you packing, Captain Mager?"
The man glowered at him as they entered the bridge. "Foodstuffs from Ryloth."
"And inofficially?" Alamys asked, unimpressed. When Mager grimaced in disdain, he continued: "Listen, I must know what they are after so I can negotiate with them. Have you tried to get an emergency message across the ether, or are they jamming communications?"
"Jamming."
"Marvelous." Not that he had expected anything else. "All right. So, what's the inofficial cargo? Spice for the Core?"
Mager, realizing their situation at last, nodded. "Yeah. From Durga's clan."
The captain flinched back at the look that passed across Alamys' face. "Durga, is it? Thank you. That might help." Looking around searchingly he added: "Where's the comm unit?"
An elderly Twi'lek waved at him from a ready station. "Over here!"
Alamys was thankful that the Jolly Star did not pack holo-equipment. It would not have made a very godd impression to appear before those pirates as patched up as he was. He needed to project strength and confidence toward their leader if he was going to achieve anything here. And, of course, Mager had to be prepared to part with his official cargo, if necessary.
"Where are we, exactly?" he asked Mager, whose expression had turned a bit more optimistic.
"More or less in the middle of nowhere. Closest planet is Tynna, and if they didn't threaten to blow us into scraps I'd try to go there."
"I see," the Jedi Master replied. Just as he had feared. Still, this meant they were in Bothan Space, on the Mid Rim. Responding to his nod, the Twi'lek handed him a head-set, and Alamys motioned for him to take the call off hold.
"This is Alamys Jorka speaking," he declared, his deep voice booming into the comm with unbridled force. To any spectator the transformation he underwent then was very visible. Where he had looked weak and slightly worried before, he was now standing straight, his height and stance combining into a confident pose that the pirates could not see, of course, but it helped Alamys to boost what came across the ether. I need a comlink, he mouthed at the Twi'lek, urging him to hurry.
"Yeah, yeah," a voice replied after a few moments, sounding nasty and amused. "Captain 'Meager' already told us he had a Jedi Master on board to assist him. Seems as if you aren't up to much more than talk, though. Good for us." Alamys kept silent, and for thirty seconds waited for the other man to react to that silence, which he did. "Hello? You still there?" All smug amusement had faded from his tone, and turned into annoyance.
The Twi'lek handed the requested comlink over to Alamys, who popped the back of it open with his good hand. He had seen that same trick used by Mava's brother, Tekko Rahn, and it had almost cost Alamys his head when the pirate had managed to summon help despite the Jedi Master's jamming his ship's comm. Time to call in a few favors. While he started fiddling with the comlink's innards, he said:
"I am still here, as you can undoubtedly see, whoever you are. Now. Let's talk. You are engaging in illegal and criminal restraint of trade in Republic space, and I am authorized to report you and your activities to the local law enforcement office, which I believe is located on Bothawui."
"Too bad we're jamming your comm," the unknown pirate retorted.
"Too bad, yes. What are your plans form here on?"
"Easy. We're going to board you, space the crew and sell what you've got in your cargo holds. Standard procedure," he added helpfully.
"Just what I feared," Alamys sighed. "Captain Mager informed me just what cargo he has loaded. Are you certain you want to be found selling Durga his own stuff back? He wouldn't be pleased, that I know for certain." Especially now that Alamys had alerted the Hutt to the theft in progress.
"We're not stupid. We can sell it elsewhere."
He should have known that the man wouldn't be that easily frightened. "I wouldn't count on it. If you don't want more trouble you'll leave the Jolly Star alone." There was no answer, and for quite some time Alamys thought that the pirate had decided to let the Kaloth's guns speak after all. He had a very bad feeling all of a sudden, and that intensified when the nameless pirate's voice came back and asked:
"Alamys Jorka, you said?"
"Yes."
The next moment the Kaloth cruisers did open fire.
Qui-Gon had settled his rented speeder into a depression in the forest, outside the fortress' detectors' range. Now he was making his way up to the castle from the cliff-side, where the detectors were weaker, as he knew very well. He wanted to surprise Aloura, and confront her about her lie concerning Dooku's supposed voyage to Telos. It was heavy going, with rain pouring down from the grey morning sky and hard winds tearing at him. It was fall in the region, with all the nasty storms that accompanied it here on Serenno.
Once the Jedi Knight had reached the castle's foundation walls he made his way around and into the garden surrounding it, where he knew he would find assistance in getting into the building unannounced. As expected, Falaryn Miska, the castle's old gardener, was already up and busy in the greenhouses of the compound. Qui-Gon entered with a smile and breathed the fragrant scent of just awakening flowers deeply.
"Who's there?" Falaryn may be old, but he protected his flowers like a young mother-hen.
"It's Qui-Gon Jinn!" the Jedi Knight called back.
Falaryn came around one of the lush plants, stooped and slow, but his face lit up at seeing the younger man. "Oh! It is you, Master Qui-Gon! I did not know you were staying with us!"
Qui-Gon smiled. "It is a surprise," he told the gardener conspiratively. "But I need someone to let me into the house. Can I count on you?"
"Certainly! Mistress Aloura will be happy to see you again, I assume."
Qui-Gon doubted that very strongly. Keeping his features unconspicuously calm, trying not to show his disappointment and fleeting anger, he followed Falaryn through the dripping orchard and to a small gate set into the wall of the castle. The gardener let Qui-Gon in with a shy smile, and, once inside, the Jedi Knight shook off his soaked cloak. As far as he could tell he was in the basement. Wandering through the dark hallways, he found a set of stairs and followed it up, into the kitchens, where a few droids were just beginning preparations for the morning meal. They didn't spare the intruder any attention. Unmolested, Qui-Gon walked onward, uncertain of what to do. He could wait for Aloura to rise, or wake her, or he could snoop around her office for clues. Rejecting the second and third option, he made for the foyer, where a fire was already burning in the hearth.
He stared at the flames, frowning. Could it be that Aloura was up already? Qui-Gon turned toward the stairs and made his way to the upper floor, where he knew the offices and administrative staff were housed. Indeed, he could hear voices from Dooku's own office. Perhaps the count had already returned. Qui-Gon gently gave the door a push, and it slowly swung inward, allowing him to look into the room. He saw Aloura, dressed in a morning robe, her back to him, facing her master, or at least a hologram of him. For a moment the young Jedi Knight held his breath. But no, Dooku could not see him, he was outside the transmission field. Keeping very still, he resolved to listen.
"I understand your concern, Aloura," Dooku was just saying, "and your unwillingness to lie to a friend, but it is imperative that I conclude this journey unmolested."
"Then you will be returning to Coruscant afterward?" she asked, sounding genuinely worried. "They seem to be concerned for your well-being."
The count inclined his head gravely. "With what you told me that is understandable. I do hope that Qui-Gon will find Master Jorka alive. I may have no liking for the man, but he is a good Jedi, an apt mediator and tactician."
"What if Qui-Gon returns? What should I tell him?"
"Tell him that I regret having had to order you to act against your nature and friendship. But I do not want to deal with his curiosity or that of the Jedi Council right now." The count's features darkened. "Later, perhaps. That will be all for now. May the Force be with you, Aloura."
"And with you, Master," she breathed, and the transmission died. When Qui-Gon closed the door behind him she whirled around to face him, her eyes widening in surprise. "Have you been listening?" she asked sharply.
"And a good morning to you too, Aloura," Qui-Gon replied drily. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he regarded her silently for a while, and she drew her robe closer around herself, obvioulsy uncomfortable with the situation. "You sent me to Telos," he said at last.
She nodded, blushing. "I am sorry. I –"
"I heard," Qui-Gon interrupted her. "I almost feared that something bad had happened to him. Now I am glad to see he is enjoying his usual good health. What is this about, Aloura?" he finished gently.
"I do not know. He is making contacts, I believe, but for what, I cannot tell you."
"Would you, if you knew?"
"You know where my loyalties lie," she answered haughtily.
Qui-Gon sighed. "I guess I do, yes." He turned around to leave.
"Wait!" Aloura called out. "Where are you going?"
One last time he looked back over his shoulder to face her. "I have my orders, Aloura. I will follow them. I won't be seeing you again. Farewell." He could see the expression on her face all too well before he averted his gaze. Hurt, betrayal, and profound sadness. But then, didn't he feel just the same? He had no friends on Serenno. Not anymore.
"Shields gone!" the Devaronian shouted, face fixed into a primal snarl of fear. Just in that moment another direct hit spun the Jolly Star around in a merry circle. "Propulsion is gone," he added gloomily, into the silence on the bridge. They were dead in space, with the Kaloth cruisers moving inf or the kill.
"Do something!" Captain Mager cried, grabbing Alamys' collar and trying to shake him, which, considering their height difference, was a futile endeavor on the captain's part.
"I am terribly sorry, but I have already exhausted my repertoire," the Jedi Master growled. He felt dizzy and sick, and his head was pounding like mad. When he moved, his muscles ached in protest. "They will board us," he explained. " And you'd better say your prayers now."
"We won't give up without a fight!" Mager replied defiantly.
Alamys shook his head. "Of course not. Listen," he continued wearily, "I am in bad shape, as you can see, and I won't be able to protect you for long, once they board. If you have some kind of escape pods I suggest you use them. Perhaps they'll let you go. I have alerted Durga and I am certain he will send someone to help eventually, but they could be too late. So better be on the safer side."
"Fine," Mager breathed and let go of Alamys' clothes. He relaxed somewhat, shoulders slumping. "I didn't know you'd called for assistance. All right." Turning toward his crew he told them to board the ship's escape pods and abandon the cargo. None of them grumbled over that order, though it would cost them. Durga did not approve of his couriers' failures in delivering his goods to his customers. But then, he approved of pirates preying on his couriers even less.
Alamys leaned back against the comm console, his legs shaking. He was wondering hard why the pirates had opened fire so suddenly, and why the pirate captain had confirmed his name. Had he received a message of sorts? The Jedi Master grimaced ever so slightly. Of course he had. A message that probably went along the lines of: Alamys Jorka, Jedi Master, wanted dead or alive, reward. And issued by none other than Darth Sidious, if he was any judge. So. The Sith Lord was using all means available to him to prevent Alamys from getting to Coruscant. Understandably. And if those pirates managed to get aboard the Jolly Star before help arrived, he would have won already.
A premonition made him turn around to face the viewport, and just a moment later another battle-group appeared almost on top of the Kaloth cruisers. Mager hurried back to join Alamys, eyes wide.
"What's that?" he asked, seemingly awed. "The help you mentioned?"
"I hope so," Alamys replied and took the prepped comlink he had used to get his message to Durga. As expected, a call had come in during the battle, and Alamys listened closely to teh recording, his heart sinking further as he realized who had come to the rescue. He watched the Kaloth cruisers back off, undoubtedly impressed by the newcomers' credentials and guns. Suddenly a voice snarled over the comlink:
"Jolly Star, this is the Black Edge. Prepare to be boarded. We're taking your cargo aboard."
Mager tore the comlink out of Alamys' grasp brutally. "Hey, wait! You cannot – " There was silence on the other end, and the Jedi Master put a reassuring hand on the captain's shoulder.
"Relax. They are Durga's people and will most probably escort you and your cargo back to Nal Hutta. The worst that can happen to you is to be charged for the lost time."
A loud clang on the outer hull told them that the newcomers were establishing a cofferdam. The Kaloths had retreated further, and were preparing to leave. "They are letting them get away just like that?" Mager asked suspiciously.
"They won't be able to hide. And the merchandise has first priority," Alamys explained. "You
should inform your crew of what is happening," he added wearily.
Mager nodded mutely and darted off the bridge to find his men and tell them of this new turn of events. Left all alone on the bridge, Alamys slid down along the comm console to sit on his haunches, waiting. Of all people who could have come to the rescue it had to have been Tekko Rahn. Mava's brother. Lowering his head tiredly, the Jedi Master tried to find calm in deep, even breaths, but he hurt all over, the stress of the attack taking its toll on his body. He was far from recovered, and with the virus handicapping his healing abilities, he would remain incapacitated for some time. But he wasn't beaten just yet.
The sound of approaching footsteps reached him and he looked up to watch a group of five armed men stroll onto the bridge, Mager in their midst. The captain looked slightly frightened, but also relieved. The leader of the newcomers wore a headset with a camera lens hovering in front of his left eye. Undoubtedly it fed what he was seeing back to their ships, and right now he was studying the Jedi Master with cold curiosity. Alamys rose slowly, ignoring the pain in his legs and shoulders. He took a few steps toward the group before three blaster rifles swung in his direction and targeted his torso in an unmistakable warning. He could have disarmed them easily, but any aggressive move on his part would only endanger Mager and his crew. The pirate heading the group raised a hand to his left ear, then nodded in response to something he must have heard over the listening device he wore. Then his gaze turned on Alamys again.
"You are coming with us, he said. Captain's order."
Spreading his arms slightly in surrender, which, given his splinted right arm, wans't all that easy, Alamys replied: "Tell Captain Rahn that I will come voluntarily. No need for violence."
The nameless pirate gave him a mirthless smile and looked him up and down quite pointedly, obviously meaning to tell him that he saw no threat in Alamys. Foolish, but not unexpected. Waving his team forward, the man watched two of his cronies bind Alamys wrists together in front of him and they were none too gentle doing it. Yet, after having survived torture at the hands of two Sith Lords, Alamys barely noticed that sloppy cruelty. One of the mne pushed him forward, past Mager, who looked slightly worried and a bit apologetic, but clearly did not want to challenge his would-be rescuers over the Jedi Master's safety.
When they had passed the cofferdam between the ships Alamys tensed involuntarily. He did not know whether Tekko Rahn would still blame him for his prison sentence, and he was loath to meet the man for fear of having to tell him that he was responsible for his sister's death. As it turned out he was spared such an encounter for the moment. His escort ushered him into a holding cell and left him there, confident that he could not escape them. Which was all too true. Drawing his knees up to his chest, Alamys sat on the hard metal bench that was the cell's sole furniture and leaned his back against the wall, closing his eyes. They would take some hours to relocate the cargo, and then they'd probably go straight to Nal Hutta or Nar Shadaa, a long way to Coruscant. And for the first time ever since his ordeal had begun, Alamys Jorka began to ask himself whether he should really continue running from destiny.
Qui-Gon let his ship hoover above Serenno just a few clicks from the jump-point for Coruscant, feeling undecided. He had no clue where to go andlook for Dooku next, and the Jedi Master did not want to be found, making any blind search a futile endeavor. And yet the young Jedi felt that his old mentor owed him an explantion. He was being righteous and childish, he knew, and that rankled almost as much as Dooku's secrecy. Taking a deep breath, Qui-Gon stared at the comm sequence displayed on the fighter's central screen and finally punched it through. It took a few moments for the call to reach Coruscant, and a few more before it was answered.
"Qui-Gon, what news you have?" Master Yoda asked, sounding alert and fresh, despite the time difference.
"Greetings, Master Yoda. I have failed to find Count Dooku, but have found out that he is well and does not want to be disturbed in whatever quest he is undertaking. He is erasing all traces for me to follow. What shall I do? Try to go and find Master Jorka? I could start on Corellia ..." He trailed off, sensing that there was something hidden in the silence that came from the Jedi Master. "Master Yoda?"
"A request, reached us it has only a few hours ago. The reason for my being awake still it is."
"Oh." Qui-Gon frowned in puzzlement. "What request?"
"Request does Count Dooku to be freed of his duties toward the Jedi Order. Leave us he will."
Qui-Gon felt as if hit in the stomach. "Leaving? He is leaving? Why?" he asked, aghast, once he had overcome the initial shock.
"Reasons he gave enough. Talk about those we will once returned you have." There was a short pause. Then: "Home you should come, Qui-Gon Jinn. Need oyu here we do."
"But what about Master Jorka?" the younger man tried weakly. "What about your fears concerning those two running around unchecked?"
"Gathering the darkness is already," the old Jedi Master sighed. "Too late to interfere. Not lose we want to another. Come back you must, Qui-Gon."
A shiver ran down Qui-Gon's back. Too late already? He felt very cold all of a sudden, but gradually determination replaced uncertainty. All the more reason for him to return to Coruscant and make a difference. Master Yoda was right in that. "I am coming home," he breathed. "I won't let you down."
TBC