Chapter Nine

"No. No! No!" Benjur Korimor cried out as he fought against the large, hairy white hands that gripped his shoulders digging fierce claws into the heavy material that protected his gray flesh. The thief struggled against his captor but remained pinned to the dingy wall of his small transport. "No, please!" He began to sob, gripping desperately at the long fur that protected the massive hands that held him. The slight of build humanoid shook violently as large tears streamed down his rough face. "Please," he wept as the fight started to seep from him. "Please don't kill me," he begged in the high voice of his species.

"Please?" the owner of the fur covered hands mocked. Towering over Benjur was a great Ulamar Draigon. The slightest twitch of tightly coiled muscles rippled under the mixture of silver scales and white fur that covered its body. It's wolfen like head raised slightly as his black nose sniffed the air. Bearing sharp teeth in a savage grin, he returned his attention to the troublemaker in his hold. "I haven't had my lunch today," he snarled.

"No, please don't hurt me," Benjur bawled quivering at the sight of the fangs hovering dangerously close. "Don't kill me."

"I can save your life," a third voice–sporting a cultured Core accent–entered the conversation. Behind the beastly being appeared a tall man. Face cleanly shaven and framed by short brown locks. "Let us give him a chance to explain himself, Quim."

A gentle sweep of the interloper's hand brushed back the soft brown leather of his long cloak revealing a low-slung blaster holster at his hip. One of many weapons on his person but the only he chose to bear. Fingers slid over the black form of the trim Tenrael-11 blaster pistol. Not his usual weapon of choice by any means but it served.

Benjur's eyes widened, focused on the calm man.

"No!" he howled, arms flailing about in a pitiful attempt at explanation. "It was just business, Garen. You have to understand." With a burst of energy, he exploded into struggle against the powerful arms that pinned.

Quim snorted, his canin-like snout wrinkling under silvery eyes. "I'm going to pull his arms free of his worthless torso," the Draigon snarled shifting his grip to Benjur's upper arms.

"Not yet," Garen calmly replied with a simple wave of his hand causing the long coat to brush along his tight cut leather trousers.

"Please," Benjur moaned, his large eyes focusing on Garen begging for mercy.

"You betrayed a business deal," Garen coolly replied.

"I was offered more credits. Much more. I couldn't turn it down. You know how it is."

"I do not break exclusive contracts. How many more credits was your life worth?"

"I–I–"

Benjur howled the instant Quim tugged on his right arm dislodging it from the shoulder socket.

Silently, Garen steeled himself, praying his beastly comrade would not kill the crook. He placed a hand on the massive, hairy shoulder.

Quim growled but let the bellowing figure drop to the ground. "He deserves–"

With the toe of his tall cut boots, Garen lightly kicked out, pressing the toe into Benjur's wounded shoulder. The thief wailed in agony. "We paid you for delivery of a product. You not only broke an implied contract, you stole Maka Koth's money. He is very unhappy with you."

There were other ways to acquire the information. None of them were going to happen with Koth's number one man standing next to him.

"I'll pay it back. Please," Benjur sobbed.

Deep blue eyes studied the gray skinned being, hiding whatever misgivings he had by a cool exterior. "You will never possess that kind of wealth." He knelt to face Benjur directly. Reaching out carefully with the Force, he searched the creature seeking anything that would prove a truth or a lie. "Whom did you sell the H'Aasarii Pyramid to?"

Behind, he could hear Quim's heavy breathing and the swish of his massive tale cutting just above the ground. Concern ran high, fearing that the instant Benjur offered the answer, the Draigon would snap his neck.

He had only been in Koth's employ for a few months but he had learned much about the pirates most trusted crewmember. He knew enough to be afraid of the sometimes unpredictable Quim. Although, he had no fear that he was in danger, his knowledge of the ancient language of Benedaact, barely rudimentary for a Jedi, was quite extensive for someone outside the Order. Koth needed him and his "expertise" in acquiring certain antiquities. More precisely, Jedi artifacts that according to an ancient text form a map reader to some vague treasure.

Not that he really believed the ancient text. It was merely an extension of the ghost story Master Na'tho and other initiate supervisors treated younglings too. He remembered the tales unfolding in the darkened Great Assembly Hall with only a single lamp offering light in center of a circle of initiates.

A tale for those who still suffered childish innocence.

Yet, the H'Aasarii Pyramid was real though. A holocron lost to the Order millennia ago and he was charged in retrieving it.

He would have had it and been on his way back to the Jedi Temple if it were not for this double crosser, Benjur Korimor. Now until he could track down the Pyramid's new holder, he was stuck in the company of pirates and murderers.

Lightning quick reflexes took Benjur by the collar and ripped him forward with a startled yelp. "I am losing my patience," Garen savagely barked.

The thief tried to shrink away.

"Let me loosen his other arm," Quim snarled.

"I sold it to Talaken," Benjur sobbed. "I sold it to Talaken of Attuka."

The name meant nothing to Garen. "Who?"

Quim snorted. "Local warlord on Attuka." He reached for the thief who shrieked in terror.

"Wait!" Garen snapped sensing Quim's murderous intent, sparing Benjur's life a moment longer. "Let him live."

"You are not the authority here!" Quim viciously snapped.

"No, but if he is lying, we will need to pry the truth from him. Besides," he added with a frown, "death would be a gift to this creature. Better he should live in fear of Koth's wrath."

The Draigon stared at him for a time, and then dropped Benjur to the ground. A low growl escaped the beast.

Calmly Garen rose to his feet and started to walk away. He hoped that would be enough.

"Maka will be furious," Quim said as he marched up behind the disguised Jedi. "He will want reparations for the credits lost."

"I am certain Benjur will be happy to do a few jobs to pay back his debt." He glanced back at the Draigon and offered him a knowing smile. "Besides, we need to get back to Selvax and report."

A hairy hand fell to his shoulder and Quim laughed. "I do not know who is more eager to collect the pieces of the puzzle, you young one or Maka."