Chapter XVII - Alone On Quesh (Ashara)
I want to be a Jedi like my mother was before me. That was my mental declaration over the confusing jumble of thoughts swirling in me as I paced in the small Imperial ship. "Calm yourself, Ash," I said aloud for encouragement, "you know why you're here."
Do I? a counter thought echoed softly from lingering doubts deep within. As I paced some more, I scratched a patch of dry skin on my arm absently with my fingernails. I thought I knew what I was doing. There were reasons why I was here; initially to get the Sith away from the enclave without hurting anyone else, and then the Force seemed to encourage me to continue with her. And? a thought rose from the depths of my soul. Yes, there was another motivation, one that I wouldn't admit to anyone and which I hesitated to dwell on. A secret.
Not very Jedi-like, another counter thought challenged. Having secret motivations wasn't Jedi-like; at least it didn't feel like it. I've always had them, and I assumed that my fellow padawans did too, but I had never been in a situation before where my motivations seemed to conflict with the Jedi way. That internal conflict was the source of my anxiety; that and the Sith who ran off toward trouble without me. I paced to the cockpit and looked out the windows into the dark hangar. The Sith told me she wasn't taking me with her and then locked me in the ship. I knew she locked me in because I tried the door a few minutes after she left, urged on by a sense in the Force to go after her. She was stubborn and suspicious. Leaving me locked inside the ship was just the latest example of that. Part of me understood her thinking, after all, we were strangers and supposedly enemies, something that was confusing my thinking as well. She didn't feel like an enemy, at least not from my sense of the Force, which seemed to be guiding me to help her.
What if your Force sense is wrong? an ominous thought drifted through my mind. What if you are using it to justify your decisions? I shook my head to scatter the idea as I paced some more. It had to be the Force. I'd been trained to feel its presence and follow its currents. There was a connection between us, and she had the ghost of my ancestor. Still, the uncertainty pooled at the edges of my mind. She was a Sith, the enemy. Why would the Force draw me to her, or want me to help her? Master Ryen had told me to run; to not trust her, stating that the dark side of the Force was deceptive. Was this what it meant to fall to the dark side? Was I being tempted?
"Stop it," I said out loud, "you're a Jedi." The words sounded muffled in the empty cabin of the ship. I had intended them to be an encouragement, but they also felt a little like an accusation because I wasn't acting like a Jedi at the moment, so full of emotion and conflicting thoughts. My steady, routine-driven life had been thrown into turmoil over the past twenty-four hours; a pattern that I depended on. If you're a Jedi, then act like one, I challenged myself. After a bit more pacing, I stopped near the kitchenette in the middle of the ship and decided to meditate in the Force and try to clear my thoughts, so I squatted down cross-legged on the black metal floor next to the cabinets. I closed my eyes to start my meditation, focusing on my breathing and heartbeat as I usually did. At that moment I was surprised at how rapid both of them were. It took a lot of effort, but I slowly pushed the negative thoughts out and urged the Force in. The masters told us that Jedi can moderate their body functions through the Force; some even achieving a hibernation state. I couldn't imagine the skill it would take to control my body that way, especially considering the effort it took at that moment to slow my breathing and heartbeat just a little bit.
At the enclave, the Jedi spent hours meditating in the morning and afternoon. It was a way to make a personal connection to the Force and learn to sense its currents. As I meditated and drew the Force into me, I couldn't help but sense that its aura felt very different from the Force presence of the Jedi enclave on Taris. Of course, it would be, in the enclave I was surrounded by familiar Force users, including Masters Ocera and Ryen. Here, everything felt strange and unknown. With my mind on the enclave, I couldn't help thinking about Master Ryen. What happened to him was horrible, and sometimes an unbidden image of him being cut by the Sith's red lightsaber came into my mind. It all happened so fast, and I felt guilty, even though I couldn't have stopped it. I wondered if Master Ryen blamed me, and whether he'd make a full recovery. I also thought about how the Jedi were reacting to what had happened. Were they trying to rescue me? Would they even know where to look? I started scratching my itchy skin again on my neck and shoulder and would've given anything at that moment to have my Shili ceramide ointment.
With my eyes closed, I visualized my small room in the enclave, I could see the bottle of ointment sitting right next to my bed on the little metallic nightstand. Beside it was a trinket box from my mother, one of the few things of hers that I had. Absently, I reached for the thin, worn bracelet on my left wrist. It was also my mother's; she was wearing it when she died defending Coruscant. It was made of fibers from flowering plants on Shili, our ancestral homeworld, braided into a multi-strand cord. Imagining my room suddenly made me feel lonely and out of place. The things I cared about seemed so far away. There were reasons why I was here, yet there were reasons why I shouldn't be, and the conflict rose in me again. I reached to my side and felt the hilt of my lightsaber on my belt. The Sith had given it to me before she left. A brief thought flashed in my mind to use the weapon and try to escape. Part of me wanted to, the part that felt lonely and out of place, but I stayed seated on the floor. I wouldn't leave. Not yet, not when I didn't have the answers I needed, not while the Force seemed to be guiding me to stay.
After meditating, I ate some protein bars and went to bed, tossing and scratching for what seemed like hours before eventually falling asleep. Something woke me sooner than my body wanted, and in a half-roused state, I wandered out of the bedroom to check on the ship. The night sky was beginning to lighten with a predawn glow beyond the hangar opening. As I approached the cockpit, I heard a soft alarm sounding and noticed that yellow warning lights were flashing on the hangar's walls. Suddenly, a ship drifted across the front of my vision just beyond the hangar shield. It hung in the air for a moment before the shield shimmered out. The ship was going to land. After some maneuvering, the ship came to a rest on the dark gray floor of the hangar, and the shield shimmered to life again across the hangar opening. A rushing sound echoed around the ship, and I realized that they were purging the atmosphere like they had done when we landed.
I couldn't see the ship through the front window, but motion-activated cameras relayed images to the console in the cockpit, giving me a side view of the ship a few meters away. The ship's door opened and its ramp extended to the floor. Several armed soldiers spilled out and began to look around in a tactical stance. From another camera view, the personnel door at the back of the hangar opened and facility personnel came through to approach the ship. There was no audio, so I didn't know what they said, but a short exchange occurred where the soldiers motioned for the facility staff to come to their ship. More soldiers debarked, some of them wounded, and the facility staff started directing them through the personnel door.
Then, to my shock, Pez drifted out of the ship and spun his little red eye to look in my direction. Instantly I sensed that something terrible had happened. I reached out in the Force and could sense the Sith's aura, weak and erratic, but it was her. A tall blond soldier walked up the ramp into the ship, leading a woman dressed in a medical outfit. I couldn't look away from the monitor, anxious and worried. With the blond soldier in the lead, a floating stretcher slowly appeared and drifted down the ramp with the woman and a military medic following. On the stretcher was the Sith, unconscious and covered in bandages. Pez drifted forlornly alongside as the team headed towards the personnel door and then through it. The Sith had been critically injured, and there was no sign of her apprentices.
I began to pace again as my thoughts drifted to wondering what happened. Where were the apprentices? What caused the Sith's injuries? Was she going to survive? The tension was horrible, and I was tempted to ignite my lightsaber and hack my way through the ship's hatch just to get answers. It was about a half-hour of anxious waiting before the camera images appeared on the dash again, showing the personnel door at the back of the hangar open as two soldiers stepped through and came toward the ships, one of them the tall blond from earlier. Pez followed them, hovering behind their heads and looking back at the door they had just come through before hurrying to catch up to them. The men stopped just outside the ship. Worried about what they were doing, I tapped the screen to see if I could activate the audio. After fumbling for a moment, I found an option to turn on outside audio.
". . . to secure the ship," I heard the blond-haired man state.
"It's probably locked," the other man replied.
"That's why I brought this." The blond man lifted his hand to show the Sith's wrist com.
A flash of panic shot through me. They were going to open the ship and find me. I looked around as my mind panicked, but after a moment realized there was nowhere to run or hide, the ship was too small.
"It's not goin' to work," his comrade frowned, "the device will be bio-coded to the Sith."
"I had Tech'r crack it for me." The blond guy stated with a grin before he activated the Sith's wrist com, making the ship unlock with a clank and a hiss as the hatch popped open. I reflexively reached for my hip and took my lightsaber in my hand as the ramp began to extend but hesitated to ignite the weapon because the blue color would complicate things. If they knew I was a Jedi they'd likely attack, so I decided to act like the Sith's apprentice. Just as the hatch swung up enough to bring the hangar bay into view, Pez let out a string of tones and began to swish back and forth in front of the soldiers. When the ramp was down far enough, the little droid shot up toward me with a big red eye.
"Beep-duooh," he mourned as he bumped into my shoulder and nuzzled there. "Duooh . . . duooh," he kept toning softly.
I put my hand up and petted the smooth sphere of the droid as the ramp came to a rest and my eyes met the gaze of the blond soldier. He and his friend stood in surprise when they saw me. It was obvious that they didn't expect anyone to be on the ship. I wasn't sure what to do and decided to wait for one of the men to say something.
"Ah," the blond guy spoke, "who are you?"
"I'm a companion of Lord Kallig," I replied confidently, despite my heart fluttering in my chest. If they didn't know about me, then they didn't need to know about the state of things between me and the Sith. "Who are you?"
The blond soldier eyed the lightsaber in my hand and then looked back at my face. "I'm Captain Mordon; this is Sergeant Yoms," he jabbed a thumb at the curly-haired guy next to him. "We brought the Sith and some of my men in for medical care."
"Is she going to make it?" I asked nervously.
"Click-tweep-click-zwip-beep-duooh," Pez toned as he backed off my shoulder and hovered before me. He wasn't acting very droid-like. I could almost hear the emotion in his electronic noises, and his eye looked at me with a sense of sadness.
"I don't know," Captain Mordon replied with a slow shake of his head. "I can take you to her if you'd like?"
"Okay," I nodded as Pez nudged into my shoulder again. After taking a few steps down the ramp, the captain raised his hand.
"The droid seemed worried that the ship would take off on its own."
"Can you understand it?" I asked in surprise.
"No, but the base computer acted as an interpreter, sort of. I guess it was a protocol droid in a former life."
"Oh," I replied, not sure if he made a joke. "Lord Kallig planned an escape launch if something went wrong, but I think she was supposed to activate it manually."
"I was told to secure the ship," he added, glancing at the wrist com uncertainly.
"Pez," I said softly, "are you still connected to the ship?"
"Bleep," he shifted back away from me and nodded.
"Can you disable the nav programming?"
"Dweep-click," he replied with a sideways shake of his form.
"Why not? You know your master wouldn't want the ship to leave without her."
"Chirp-dweep-zwip-bleep," the droid let out a long string of noises and I glanced at the soldiers who looked back impassively.
"I don't know what that means, Pez." I stepped down the rest of the ramp to the captain's side, looking up into his rugged face almost two heads taller than me. He was tapping the Sith's wrist pad and moving through menus. "I don't think he can respond to anyone else's commands."
"I think I got it," the captain said as he managed to get to the proper screen. "There," he sighed as he hit the button to deactivate the navigation.
I looked back at the open ship. "Can you lock it up before we leave?"
He nodded but took a moment to find the proper input before the ramp started to ascend and the hatch shifted closed. The captain and sergeant stepped toward the doorway, and I followed. Pez drifted very close to my shoulder and made soft, anxious puffing noises with his hover jets. They led me to an elevator, and we all got in, waiting for an awkward moment for the door to close.
"A Togruta," the captain stated casually, "haven't seen very many of your kind." Something about the way he said 'your kind' didn't sound right. "You're a Sith too?"
"Something like that," I nodded, glancing quickly at Pez who eyed me but made no noise.
"You didn't tell me your name."
"Ashara," I replied.
"Why weren't you there, Ashara?" Captain Mordon asked pointedly, putting the wrong emphasis on the syllables of my name, "I mean with her?"
"She didn't want me to go," I replied in a measured voice, keeping my irritation in check from such a rude and direct question, "she thought to get there before trouble and save her apprentices."
"Well, she was wrong . . . the apprentices were dead and she walked right into a trap - almost got herself killed too . . ." He was going to continue but the elevator doors opened, and he exited, walking quickly to the left.
I followed the sergeant who took a couple of hop steps to keep up with his superior. I decided that I didn't like the captain. He was harsh, and I got the sense that all of his thoughts were negative. I followed some distance behind through a set of double doors into a large medical bay. There were other soldiers in the bay, some being treated for injuries. The captain and sergeant went over to their comrades and left me standing just inside the doors. At the far end behind a wall of glass, a doctor and several medical droids were working on the Sith. Pez let out a sad tone and drifted right up to the edge of the glass. I followed the droid while taking in the scene.
The Sith looked so small and frail on the operating table. There was a mask over her face, and her color was peaked, grayer than her normal brown tone. The doctor was working on her right arm, which had a gash through it just below the elbow. One of the medical droids was treating burns on her other hand and arm. I tried to read the medical panel next to the doctor but didn't know what all the symbols and charts meant. The look on the doctor's face was grim and determined, which made my fears increase. There was a display panel on the wall next to the glass separation and I walked over to it to read the information.
Name: Tishmaly Ashron – Kallig
Sex: Female
Race: Human
Age: Nineteen years old
Homeworld: Zoist
Occupation: Force-sensitive Sith
Condition: Trauma, shock, 2nd and 3rd-degree burns, traumatic amputation of right antebrachium 3.45 inches from the elbow, may be suffering from excessive Force exertion, exhaustion, and other Force related conditions.
Prognosis: Probable recovery with possible lasting or permanent disabilities in the right arm and hand.
There were other medical notes, but I stopped reading and looked back into the operating room. She was just nineteen, a little more than a year older than me. Tishmaly was her first name, something she hadn't told me before. I watched the doctor working delicately on Tishmaly's arm and reflexively reached over to the spot on my right arm. 'Possible lasting or permanent disability' echoed in my thoughts. She might not be able to hold a lightsaber in that hand again. A shudder passed through me. How would I react to that news? How would she?
"Beep-duooh," Pez toned mournfully as he drifted over and nuzzled my shoulder.
"It'll be okay," I soothed. "The chart says that your master will probably recover." He shifted his little red eye to look at me and then back to the operating table. Time seemed to move slowly as we waited. I got the sense I was being watched from across the room, hearing soft talking above the hum of electrical equipment. Finally, the captain wandered over to where Pez and I were standing. He stared at me with his attractive yet cold blue eyes. I looked away from him and noticed that the operation was completed. They were getting ready to move the Sith.
"She looks a mess, doesn't she?"
I looked back at the captain and sensed he was analyzing me. "Yes," I said, my voice more emotional than I had hoped, "how did this happen?"
"I told you, she walked into a trap." He glanced toward the operating table as it drifted into a recovery room beyond. "She knew it too," he added as his eyes returned to mine, "ran right in bold as hell. 'Course look what it got her."
"Why would she run into a trap?"
"Beats me," the captain shrugged. "I didn't even know why we were sent to this stinking planet until we landed, and have no idea why a bunch of Sith were fighting in an abandoned warehouse."
"You weren't there to help her?" I asked, a little confused by his words.
Captain Mordon's face twisted. "My orders were to intercept a mercenary team that was interfering with Imperial business. I had no idea that Sith were involved until I stumbled upon your friend and the other dead ones. To be honest, I might have found an excuse to avoid the mission if I knew."
While the captain was talking, the doors to the medical bay swished open and Commander Trey stepped in. When he caught sight of the captain, he moved toward us. "Captain," the commander stated with a nod before his eyes began to appraise me.
"This is Ashara," the captain said as he tilted his head in my direction. "Another Sith waiting in Lord Kallig's ship."
"I see," the commander nodded, "my Lord," he added as our eyes met. "I wasn't aware that Lord Kallig had company."
"She wanted me to keep a low profile," was all I could think to say.
"Sounds right," the man thought out loud as he assumed an at-ease stance with his hands behind his back, "your friend is the suspicious type." I simply nodded. "Captain," the commander turned his attention away from me, "I've received an update on the situation, the Sith killed by Lord Kallig was named Cineratus. He appears to have been a promising Sith Lord who reported to Darth Kallous, presumably borrowed by Darth Thanaton to intercept Lord Kallig."
"I don't know anything about no Sith Lords or Darths and I want to keep it that way."
"Well, unfortunately, our activities are going to get their attention, which could be problematic since Darth Thanaton is almost on the Dark Council. He's quite powerful and appears intent on finding Lord Kallig."
"I want nothing to do with any Sith in-fighting," the captain replied defensively.
"I get your point, but you did interfere with the mercenaries who were working with Lord Cineratus, which could be a complication, and you did rescue Lord Kallig."
"Shit!" the captain spat as he turned away and took a few paces in frustration. "Worse than that," Captain Mordon turned back to us, "there were Imperial soldiers mixed in with the mercs, Tech'r seems to think they were elements of the 31st Sec Ops company attached to the Korriban Division."
"That's part of the Third Fleet," Commander Trey responded, "what were they doing here?"
"Helping hunt the Sith apparently. If you haven't grasped the implications, I'll spell it out," Captain Mordon paused to look between us, "my men killed Imperial soldiers. What the hell is going on here, Commander?"
"I'm afraid that I'm operating with as limited information as you, Captain. I was not aware of Sith or Imperial military involvement, only that I was to assist in recovering Lord Kallig and her apprentices."
"Someone should have done better intel, dammit! Why do we have Sith and military assets killing each other? Hell, we've got enough trouble with Republic conflicts going hot all over the galaxy."
"There appears to be a conflict of interest in the Sith hierarchy," Commander Trey replied.
"No shit," the captain spat, "any other obvious details you wanna call out?" The captain paced away and back. He was very agitated. "Well, it's no matter to me," the captain replied bluntly. "The less I know about Sith business the happier I am."
"You may wish to understand how elements of Imperial Command might react to your actions."
"What the hell does that mean?" the captain stiffened. "Look, we were sent in to clear a merc team and that's what we did. I don't know anything about the Sith, dead or alive, and I'd just assume keep it that way."
"You participated in an action that ended in the death of a Sith Lord. That's not going to make Darths Thanaton or Kallous happy," Commander Trey stated.
"I completed my orders!" the captain barked, making the whole room pause. "If you or the Sith are worked up about that then they can talk to my CO. As soon as my men are treated my team is outta here."
"I'm afraid it's not as simple as that, Captain."
"Like hell it isn't," Captain's eyes flashed between me and the commander. "I don't take orders from you . . . or the Sith." His angry eyes turned toward me as he sneered the word 'Sith'.
"The Sith you met at the warehouse, Lord Vashcar I believe, contacted me with the update and said that we needed to lay low and await a conference call."
"I don't take orders from any Sith," the captain protested.
"You do at the moment; we all do." As he spoke the commander flipped open his wrist tablet and hit a few buttons to beam a hologram above his hand. "Written orders from my superior and Twelfth Fleet."
"Bloody hell!" Captain Mordon groaned as he swept his hand through his blond hair in frustration after gazing at the holo. "I knew this mission was bad the moment the major began reading it off to me."
The sergeant stepped forward hesitantly, "hey cap," he said softly, "ease up . . . you know how desk jockeys are. It's prolly just a mix-up."
The captain looked at his subordinate sharply for a moment before stepping away from us; trying to quell his temper. After a moment he stepped back. "I want to contact my CO. He's the one who gave me the order and my team is not supposed to be out of contact for more than six hours."
"All communications from this facility are being blocked at the moment," the commander stated flatly. Captain Mordon's eyes flared and it looked like he was going to start arguing again. "It's my understanding that your CO will be on the conference call," the commander added quickly.
"And when is that?"
"The meeting is at 0700 in the conference room, that's two hours from now." The two men stood and glared at each other for a tense moment before the commander looked into the operating room where one of the medical droids was performing post-op cleaning. "How did the procedure go?" he asked the captain and me.
"I don't know," Captain Mordon stated sharply as he turned and walked back to his team. It was hard to understand what was going on between Commander Trey and Captain Mordon, but it was clear that the captain was not expecting to be delayed; he seemed surprised and angry that he had been caught up in Sith intrigue.
"Let's go find out," Commander Trey said to me as he started to walk across the med-bay. I followed him towards a doorway on the far side of the room. Pez puffed along behind me. We stepped through the doorway into a smaller medical lab. The doctor was standing next to a bacta-tank working on a console. Tishmaly was inside the tank, floating in the green-blue fluid with a mask on her face and a medical band on her arm where the re-attachment occurred. I felt a little embarrassed by her nudity, having only a medical contraption around her waist to obscure her privates. Her small breasts were exposed, masked only by her dark hair drifting in the fluid.
"Beep-duooh," Pez toned as he buzzed forward to press his round frame against the tank's exterior.
The commander led us right up to the doctor's side. "How's the patient?"
The doctor glanced at us before turning back to the monitor. "She'll recover, but there are complications."
"This is Doctor Nbyang," the commander stated to me, "if I required treatment, there is no one I'd trust more. This is . . ." he turned toward me, "I'm sorry Lord, I don't know your surname?"
"Zavros," I replied, still watching Tishmaly floating in the tank.
"This is Lord Zavros, a companion of Lord Kallig."
"Nice to meet you," I said politely. "Thank you for helping Lord Kallig."
"I did my best," Doctor Nbyang replied. "There are some anomalous readings related to brainwaves and her metabolic rate. The endocrine system seems to be out of balance too. I've not trained in Force-related physiology, so I'm not sure what to make of those readings."
The doctor was looking at me like I might have an opinion. "I don't know either," I hedged.
"She sustained injuries to her shoulder and side before this incident. The bacta patches were not a sufficient treatment. I had to add bone and tendon grafts to the shoulder along with some tissue matrix for the bacta tank to utilize in regrowth. The side wound was almost through the internal oblique on the left side and into the abdominal cavity. She was lucky, any deeper and it could have perforated internal organs."
"She knew that the wounds needed to be better treated, but we got the emergency call from the apprentices and she didn't want to wait." I didn't want to bring up the issue of the ghosts, but I wondered if it had something to do with the other problems.
"Well, she's lucky that I was able to treat the shoulder or she might have had permanent damage. It was reckless on her part, and I'm surprised that she was able to function."
"She was having difficulty," I replied. "She took some medicine to help with the pain before we arrived."
"Yes, it came up on the bio-scans."
"So, what happens now, doc?" the commander asked, "I've got to provide a report in about two hours."
"I used some synthetic bone matrix to connect the hand back to her arm. The lightsaber slash disintegrated about two inches of the forearm and I had to clean away another half inch to get to healthy tissue. It's going to take about two days for the tank to help regrow the connected arm, and the rest of her body needs that much time to recover from shock and burn repair."
"So, two days before she can be moved," the commander nodded.
"Moved!" Doctor Nbyang chirped. "I said two days in the tank. It could take twice that long to make sure she's stable and determine if complications arise."
"Well, it may not be avoidable. Her enemies will be looking for her, and we don't want to be caught in the middle if they find her. It's best for everyone if we move her out as quickly as possible. No offense intended, my Lord," he added with a look in my direction.
"I understand," I replied. "She didn't intend to stay long anyway."
"I would say three days is the tightest window I could recommend before moving her."
"Can the bacta tank be moved?"
"It's bolted to the floor," the doctor replied incredulously. "There are mobile bacta tanks, but I don't have access to any on Quesh, and once someone has been immersed it's not recommended to remove them, even for transfer to another tank. The technology is a little more complicated than it appears, I'm afraid."
"Hopefully we won't have a problem, but if we do, risks might need to be taken. It's not like you can hide someone in that contraption."
"If you don't mind, I had some other patients to look after," the doctor said as she stepped aside and headed for the door we came through.
I looked back at the Sith floating in the tank. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours it was making my head spin. I felt like I didn't belong here, like I was playacting. She had killed another Sith in battle, something I couldn't relate to or understand. The violence surrounding her frightened me, but sometimes there was a look in her dark eyes that made me want to help her. She didn't seem to want to live this way, didn't want to fight and kill people. I could sense that about her in the Force, but there was also darkness inside her, driven by bitterness and anger. She looked peaceful floating in the tank before me, but I knew the struggle inside her.
"My Lord," Commander Trey said next to me, "I need to return to my office and go over some information before the meeting takes place. Is there anything I can do for you before I go?"
"Is it all right if I stay here?" I asked.
"Of course," he nodded. "I'd like you to attend the meeting. You have insight into Lord Kallig's experiences on Taris and the trip here; it might be helpful to the discussion."
I nodded to him but was worried about the idea. No one here knew I was a Jedi acting like a Sith Lord, but others might know the truth. He turned and left then, leaving me to ponder and worry about what was to come. There was a bench along the wall opposite the bacta tank and other medical equipment so I sat down to think about what would happen next. Three days was starting to sound like a long time, especially to interact and pretend to be someone I wasn't with strangers for that long. I glanced over at the tank and watched Tishmaly for a while. She twitched several times but otherwise drifted peacefully. My mind drifted through random thoughts as I zoned out for a bit; was the liquid in the tank warm? was Tishmaly aware that I was watching her, what would happen if the Imperials found out I was a Jedi?
At some point, Pez noticed I had moved away and sat down. He floated over and nudged my shoulder gently. "Beep-duooh."
"It's going to be all right, Pez," I soothed. "Your master's strong and made it through the surgery. She's in the tank healing now." The droid's frame shifted so that his big red eye could look at me. In a way, the Sith was right, Pez did act differently from any droid I'd known before. I could almost discern emotions in his glowing eye.
I sat for a while in the quiet medical room with only the hum of electronics and the soft beeping of medical equipment. It was easier to close my eyes and relax now that I knew what had happened and fewer questions were rattling around in my head. Pez drifted back to the tank and pressed his frame to the glass. He looked so sad, which was really odd for a droid. I drew my legs up onto the bench under me and watched the Sith for a while. There were medical wires and tubing attached to her mask and the band wrapping her hips. There was a gauzy harness that suspended her in the tank which gave her floating form an ethereal appearance. My eyes drifted across her exposed chest, and the dark nipples standing rigid made me glance away with the feeling that there should be a curtain or something around the tank. I wouldn't be happy to find out I was floating like an object for anyone to wander in and look at.
My skin was itching again, and when the doctor came in to check the medical console, I asked her if she had any moisturizer. Luckily, she had a synthesizer that she could produce medicine with, and she created a lotion for me. It wasn't at all like my ointment, but it soothed the itchy dry spots and gave me some relief. After applying the ointment in a small exam room, I went back to the bench and sat down to wait. I took the time to close my eyes and try to meditate more deeply in the Force now that my mind had answers and my body wasn't so itchy.
Sometime later, I was surprised by a chime and my name being called over the intercom. "Lord Zavros," the electronic voice echoed through the room, "Commander Trey would like you to join him in the conference room." I looked around the empty medical bay, unsure where to go. "Lord Zavros?" the base computer asked.
"I'm here," I replied.
"Take the lift up a floor, walk to the left down a hall and the conference room will be on the right. The meeting is about to start."
"Okay, thank you," I replied. Why am I thanking a computer, I wondered as I stood up. A high-pitched warble rang out and I looked down to see Pez falling to the floor. He had settled in my lap while I was meditating and didn't expect me to stand up so quickly.
His little thrusters managed to stop his fall before he hit the floor and he drifted up to face height, his red eye narrowed at me. "Dweep," he toned.
"Sorry," I found myself being polite to a computer again, "I got called to a meeting."
"Bleep-zwip-click-deep," he answered incoherently.
I looked over at the tank and then the door. "I have to go," I informed the droid, "do you want to stay here or come with me?"
"Beep," he sounded as he drifted a bit closer to me.
"Okay, I'm a little nervous, to be honest," I said as I started walking to the door. "Someone in the meeting might know I'm pretending."
"Beep-duooh," the little black sphere replied as he drifted around my head.
I think I understood what that sound meant; concern, worry, or sadness. "It'll be all right . . . I think." I was trying to be reassuring to both of us.
I followed the instructions to the conference room with Pez drifting softly behind me. My anxiety grew about this meeting and who'd be there as we left the elevator and moved down a hallway. It was one thing to play a Sith to a few unknown people, but I had no idea who'd be on the holo-call and whether or not they'd know Tishmaly. Things could get very complicated if my bluff was called. As we approached the room, I decided that I'd find an unlit corner in the conference room and try to disappear into it. I was happy to see that the large room wasn't brightly lit when we entered, but heads turned to look at me and the holo was on, making me self-conscious. Commander Trey caught my eye but didn't speak to me, so I headed toward the dimmest corner and sat down.
"She is in stable condition," I heard the doctor state to the holo-com, "but she sustained some serious injuries, and the recovery process could be long."
"It is disappointing to hear that the outcome is so dire," a male voice stated through the holo-com.
"Some of my men were injured as well," Captain Mordon stated in a harsh tone. "They'll be out of action for at least a few weeks, and we're lucky no one was KIA."
"Your concern is noted, Captain," the voice on the holo-com responded.
"Is it? because I've got more of them . . ."
"Captain Mordon," another voice echoed in the room, "this is Colonel Visk standing in as a representative of the Twelfth Fleet and the Krayiss Division. While I appreciate your candor, I expect you to keep your emotions in check."
"Is my CO aware of my status?"
"He is, Captain," the Colonel replied. The captain sat silent but didn't look happy.
The first male voice sounded again. "Commander Trey, please give us a synopsis of events from your perspective."
The commander discussed the events from hailing us in orbit to Tishmaly being placed in an artillery shell to be launched halfway around Quesh. I couldn't believe the idea when I heard it at the time and was equally surprised that Tishmaly went through with the plan. From the reactions around the room, it seemed like other people had the same surprise. The commander lost contact with Tishmaly after she was launched. Captain Mordon was next and described the encounter that he and his team had with Tishmaly and the assassins, talking sharply in his military voice. He made no effort to hide his frustrations.
He described the events in detail before wrapping up his statement. "She was disoriented and combative when we tried to approach, waving her lightsaber at us and yelling incoherently before she collapsed. The medic and I were assessing her condition when another Sith entered the complex. He took control of the zone and told us to evacuate her as soon as possible. While the medic and I carried the wounded Sith to the drop ship, the second Sith ordered my team to collect the bodies of the dead and carry them to the basement. Once the site was cleaned up, he told us to leave the area and get the injured to this mining base.
"While we were boarding and prepping the ship an explosion rocked the complex and the building collapsed. We got airborne and flew low until beyond local detection and then made our way here."
"Thank you, Captain," the facilitator in the hologram replied. "Lord Vashcar was the Sith who assisted you. Is he on this call?"
"I am," a harsh male voice came through the holo-com.
"Lord Vashcar," an electronically altered voice echoed through the com, "please provide your perspective on this."
I noticed Commander Trey stiffen noticeably when the synthesized voice spoke, and several others looked around nervously.
"I couldn't make it to the location any sooner or would have intervened on her behalf," the Sith Lord stated. "I had met Lord Cineratus previously - this outcome is disappointing." The Sith paused, expecting a comment that didn't come. "I was ordered to leave no sign of our presence, so I collected equipment and bodies into the destroyed room and set off several thermal detonators. All evidence was vaporized and the building collapsed into the ashes. It will take some time before anyone can even guess what happened. The captain's team operated cleanly and efficiently, and no emergency call went out from the assassin team."
"Thank you, Lord Vashcar," the facilitator replied.
"Who's orders?" Captain Mordon said in frustration. "Why are we cleaning up evidence instead of securing the sight and following military procedures?"
"Captain, you're out of order," Colonel Visk's voice echoed harshly through the room.
"Excuse me, Sir, but I was told that my team might be on a Sith hit list because of this mission. I think we deserve some answers."
"Captain, you are under my direct command at this moment," the colonel's voice became more urgent. "Shit's not going to roll downhill this time. I don't play that game, but you're going to have to trust me. We're not going to have a chain of command discussion in an open conference." The captain sat back in his chair with angry eyes and a flushed face, but he kept silent.
"I would like to speed this up," the synthesized voice sounded through the holo-com. More people shifted and glanced at Commander Trey, who was clearly nervous, and I determined that the speaker had to be very important. "Lord Vashcar, how long do you believe it will take for Imperial Intelligence to determine what happened?"
"I think the merc assassin's supporting elements and Darth Thanaton likely already know that their plan failed. Captain Mordon can add his opinion, but the on-site assets likely had either a report-in or extraction time that was missed. The supporting assets in orbit would have reported a loss of contact; probably within an hour."
There was a pause. "I take it you are not at the mining facility," the electronic voice said.
"I am not," Lord Vashcar replied. "I felt it prudent to remain in the Imperial zone to observe any official reaction."
"You are still planet-side?"
"Yes."
"What concern do you have that the mining facility could be compromised?"
"Given the military and intelligence assets in-system, I think it's likely that the facility will be observed and inspected within days."
That admission had everyone in the room fidgeting and looking around even more anxiously.
"The last medical report stated that Lord Kallig would need at least four days to recover," the electronic voice stated. "Is that assessment still accurate?"
"It is," Doctor Nbyang replied.
A shrouded figure appeared in the hologram above the conference table. "And who are you?" the synthesized voice asked.
"Doctor Cysheva Nbyang," the doctor stated as she looked over at Commander Trey.
"She is the station doctor who performed the surgery," Commander Trey added.
There was a pause as the shadowy figure looked between the doctor and the commander. "You've invited a lot of people to this conference, commander. I wonder if that was prudent." The shrouded figure seemed to scan the room for a moment. "I'm being told that the mission had mixed success and has not yet been compromised, but the likelihood of discovery is high." No one spoke up as the figure in the holo scanned the room some more. My heart stopped as the figure's head turned toward me. The face was covered by a cloak and the image was dark, but I knew when its eyes settled on me. There was a pause, and I felt the impulse to get up and run.
"Who are you?" the menacing voice asked. I knew the question was directed at me, though the soldier next to me went white and leaned away from the holo-com. My voice seemed stuck in my throat and Pez made a soft sound by my side.
"If I may," Commander Trey said after he cleared his throat, "Lord Zavros was in the ship awaiting Lord Kallig's return. My understanding is that they are companions."
The image in the holo-com stayed focused on me. I felt like the shrouded figure was drifting closer to me, though that wasn't physically possible. "Companion?" the voice repeated, "I know of no Lord Zavros."
The entire room was looking at me and I fought for breath. I had to say something and worked to control myself with the Force. The shrouded figure seemed to shift as if it sensed my use of the Force. "We only just met," I replied softly, my voice shakier than I wanted it to be. I took another breath. "It wasn't in either of our plans to travel here together," I added a little stronger.
"There is no Sith named Lord Zavros," the synthetic voice stated harshly.
"I'm not officially a Sith Lord," I replied as confidently as I could. "I believe Commander Trey was using the title courteously."
"You carry a lightsaber," the figure observed.
"I'm completing my training," I replied softly.
The image seemed to glower at me in thought. "What is your association with Lord Kallig?"
"We are friends," I replied with the conviction that it was true. I did want her to be my friend. "She asked for my assistance, but not with the rescue. She insisted that I stay with the ship; hoping she could reach the apprentices and get them out without a fight."
The figure continued to focus on me for a moment. "Her assessment was flawed," the synthetic voice stated coolly, "and now she is at a disadvantage . . . we all are."
Thankfully, the figure shifted away from me to scan the rest of the room. "I want all mission-related assets off the planet as soon as possible," the synthetic voice stated sharply, seeming to have reached a decision. "That includes you as well, Lord Vashcar. The mission is over, use the prearranged orders provided to get off-world and return to your previous responsibilities."
"What about my staff and me?" Commander Trey asked.
"Carry on with your normal routine, Commander."
"And Lord Kallig?"
"She is on her own. Our assistance to her is over."
"The doctor doesn't want her moved?"
The shrouded figure turned to focus on the commander. "Use your discretion, Commander, but do not jeopardize your operation. If you are caught with the Sith, you are on your own." The figure scanned the room one more time. "I suggest you all limit your comm activity to official business only. Don't draw any undue attention to yourselves or the coalition. This meeting is over."
The holo-com went dark to indicate that the transmission had been cut. Commander Trey looked around the room and his eyes landed on the captain.
"Well, you heard the man," Captain Mordon said as he rose stiffly, "my team is outta here."
"Do you need any supplies or refueling before your departure?"
"Let me check with my lieutenant, but I don't think so," Captain Mordon replied before doing an about-face and marching out.
"I'll prepare the injured for travel," the doctor said as she rose from her seat and headed after him.
The room cleared as I stayed seated. I received several awkward glances, but no one said anything. Commander Trey stood at the end of the table talking to one of his subordinates and noticed when I finally stood to leave.
"Lord Zavros," he spoke, "do you have a moment?"
I stopped. Pez made a soft, worried tone next to me as the commander dismissed his aid and then stepped toward us.
"Not a Sith Lord?" he sighed with a curious look in his eyes.
"I have been trained," I countered.
"I meant no disrespect," he added, sensing my agitation, "and the appellation is used as a courtesy as you suggested. It is just that in circumstances like this, it'd be nice for people to be more forthcoming."
"I'm sorry, but I don't feel at liberty to speak. Lord Kallig was pretty adamant about not involving me. She seemed to want me to keep my anonymity."
"And why would that be?"
"That's a question for her."
The commander didn't seem happy with my reply. "Unfortunately, she's unable to respond at the moment." He paused, and we shared an uncomfortable moment before he continued. "The figure in the holo-com . . . the one that addressed you . . . is very powerful and can make you answer questions. Let us hope your friend recovers before that happens. Let us also hope that she recovers before her enemies decide to investigate my little corner of this world, otherwise things are going to get very complicated."
I nodded in agreement, not knowing what to say.
Back at the ship, I rooted through the cabinets for something to eat and drink. It felt late and I needed sleep, so I ate a protein bar and drank one of the nutrition drinks before heading to the bedroom to change. Pez drifted after me and I glanced at his red eye.
"I feel lost right now," I admitted softly.
"Bleep-zwip-click-warble-click-deep," the droid chattered incoherently.
"I can't understand a word of that," I sighed, stepping over to the bed and pulling open the bottom drawer.
"Beep-beep," Pez added in a more up-tone as he nudged my shoulder.
"Thank you, I think," I said to him as I looked into his glowing red eye. "I'm going to have to get some sleep, do you want to stay here with me or go to the medical center and be with your master?"
The droid shifted to look toward the ship's hatch and then back at me before toning out another long string of noises.
"I don't understand, but you know the way to the medical center if you want to go." I began to pull out the pajamas and set them on the bed. "Can you make sure the ship is locked so that I don't get surprised? I don't want to have to sleep in my clothes again."
Pez seemed to drift around in an uncertain state as I switched into pajamas and got ready for bed. I needed to wash my clothes because they were the only outfit I had, so I put them into the cleanser and crawled into bed. The droid seemed to have decided to stay and settled onto his charger. I took a glance around the ship before heading to bed and was surprised to see the spec ops drop ship still in the hangar considering the captain's urgency to get away. After sliding into bed, it felt like I wasn't going to be able to sleep as my mind filtered through everything that had transpired in the last few hours, but my body was so exhausted that sleep soon captured me.