Chapter 11
Senator Perany rung out the cloth in the cool water, looked over the body before him, and had no idea where to begin. With each passing minute it seemed like a mathematical impossibility for the Jedi's chest to ever so slightly rise and fall. It was going to be a long night...
Gently, the old statesman cleaned Qui-gon's face. It was so bruised it hardly looked clean. Somehow they had managed to remove his tunic--it was nearly imbedded in his skin. The only assurance they had that his head wasn't fatally damaged was the fact that he kept breathing. His left leg was quite obviously broken in more than one place. In the dim, hidden room of Tyndale's home, it was becoming painfully obvious that if Qui-gon was going to survive the next few days, he needed treatment soon.
"A friend of mine just brought word that Kalizan's men have been discussing a Jedi attack," Tyndale announced as he joined his elder in the underground safe haven. "Apparently, Kalizan has given orders for the army to form ranks."
"Well let's hope it's sooner rather than later. That will be our only chance to save him," Perany anxiously shot back.
"Yeah..." Tyndale trailed. "Is there nothing we can do for him?"
"I've dressed as many wounds as I can. But we have no way to tell if he's internally bleeding. He could be dead within the hour. Look if Kalizan pushes them around enough, the Jedi will strike. Right now, he's wondering why they are taking interest in his little party at all, and when he figures it out, well, we need a way out of this, Tyndale."
Prince Kalizan slammed the report on his mahogany desk, screaming for Deraloy. He appeared from the next room, bowing and awaiting command.
"What in CARNATION IS GOING ON? Do you mean to tell me that these Jedi actually believe we have one of their people? Deraloy, I specifically remember asking you to keep all and any interested parties separate from our operations here. I absolutely DO NOT NEED these people coming to visit!"
"Sir, you would have been informed earlier if we had thought there was any credibility to their inquiry. We simply did not think that there was any possible way a Jedi could have been harmed in our attacks."
"And? This has changed?"
The general cleared his throat uneasily. "It was discovered that...that on the day of our initial attacks there was a Jedi Master present with your father's council."
Kalizan could only blink. Disastrous. And so it would begin—the first step to the end. "What do I do now? Send flowers? I suppose since we cannot produce a body, they expect to conduct their own investigation. Excellent, Deraloy, excellent. They land their ships on a pile of rubble where the natives of this planet toil endlessly to clear it. They will never see me for what I am; all they will see is an overseer, with the whip in his hand, beating them on and on—the royal slave driver! Yes..." He let out a helpless laugh. "Yes, Deraloy, all of this to end up the slave driver! And the Jedi to release them from my bondage." Ralant let his arms fall limp to his side as he wandered to the balcony and dropped to the couch. Deraloy followed slowly, hearing him whisper "All is lost." He knelt before his master.
"My prince, I swear it on my life that your conquest and glory shall not be compromised. There are hundreds of bodies never to be found. The army upon which we currently rest is strong, honorable. They will fight if so ordered, and they will be victorious. Surely your spirits could not be so easily dampened. There is not an obstacle here which cannot be mastered." Kalizan smiled dimly at this, reassured. He turned determined, but uncommonly tired eyes to his general.
"Get some rest, sir. The rest of today's assignments can wait. I will settle this matter with the Jedi at once." The Prince nodded, swung his legs onto the sofa and made an attempt to sleep, only to open his eyes again moments later.
Senator Perany rung out the cloth in the cool water, looked over the body before him, and had no idea where to begin. With each passing minute it seemed like a mathematical impossibility for the Jedi's chest to ever so slightly rise and fall. It was going to be a long night...
Gently, the old statesman cleaned Qui-gon's face. It was so bruised it hardly looked clean. Somehow they had managed to remove his tunic--it was nearly imbedded in his skin. The only assurance they had that his head wasn't fatally damaged was the fact that he kept breathing. His left leg was quite obviously broken in more than one place. In the dim, hidden room of Tyndale's home, it was becoming painfully obvious that if Qui-gon was going to survive the next few days, he needed treatment soon.
"A friend of mine just brought word that Kalizan's men have been discussing a Jedi attack," Tyndale announced as he joined his elder in the underground safe haven. "Apparently, Kalizan has given orders for the army to form ranks."
"Well let's hope it's sooner rather than later. That will be our only chance to save him," Perany anxiously shot back.
"Yeah..." Tyndale trailed. "Is there nothing we can do for him?"
"I've dressed as many wounds as I can. But we have no way to tell if he's internally bleeding. He could be dead within the hour. Look if Kalizan pushes them around enough, the Jedi will strike. Right now, he's wondering why they are taking interest in his little party at all, and when he figures it out, well, we need a way out of this, Tyndale."
Prince Kalizan slammed the report on his mahogany desk, screaming for Deraloy. He appeared from the next room, bowing and awaiting command.
"What in CARNATION IS GOING ON? Do you mean to tell me that these Jedi actually believe we have one of their people? Deraloy, I specifically remember asking you to keep all and any interested parties separate from our operations here. I absolutely DO NOT NEED these people coming to visit!"
"Sir, you would have been informed earlier if we had thought there was any credibility to their inquiry. We simply did not think that there was any possible way a Jedi could have been harmed in our attacks."
"And? This has changed?"
The general cleared his throat uneasily. "It was discovered that...that on the day of our initial attacks there was a Jedi Master present with your father's council."
Kalizan could only blink. Disastrous. And so it would begin—the first step to the end. "What do I do now? Send flowers? I suppose since we cannot produce a body, they expect to conduct their own investigation. Excellent, Deraloy, excellent. They land their ships on a pile of rubble where the natives of this planet toil endlessly to clear it. They will never see me for what I am; all they will see is an overseer, with the whip in his hand, beating them on and on—the royal slave driver! Yes..." He let out a helpless laugh. "Yes, Deraloy, all of this to end up the slave driver! And the Jedi to release them from my bondage." Ralant let his arms fall limp to his side as he wandered to the balcony and dropped to the couch. Deraloy followed slowly, hearing him whisper "All is lost." He knelt before his master.
"My prince, I swear it on my life that your conquest and glory shall not be compromised. There are hundreds of bodies never to be found. The army upon which we currently rest is strong, honorable. They will fight if so ordered, and they will be victorious. Surely your spirits could not be so easily dampened. There is not an obstacle here which cannot be mastered." Kalizan smiled dimly at this, reassured. He turned determined, but uncommonly tired eyes to his general.
"Get some rest, sir. The rest of today's assignments can wait. I will settle this matter with the Jedi at once." The Prince nodded, swung his legs onto the sofa and made an attempt to sleep, only to open his eyes again moments later.