Chapter Two
The guards were a pathetic outfit of thugs, a mishmash of different species from different places. Most looked to be mercenaries clad in not even the slightest bit of uniform. Each wore their own trappings and each was equipped in the manner they saw fit. Their weapons were lying scattered everywhere, behind the crates they sat on, on the walls, about their feet, strewn on the floor too far for them to grab if danger arose.
They were too concentrated on the modified game of Pazaak they were playing that they didn't notice the dark figure nonchalantly walking towards them under the soft glow of the city lights. As they argued about who had won the last game or if someone had cheated to win it, the figure's cloak fluttered softly in the wind. As their hands flipped their cards over and their eyes kept careful check on their littered credits, the dark shadow the figure cast came over them and finally caught their attention.
They all looked up, startled, surprised and shaken. There was just something about the shadow, something about the figure that cast it that unnerved them and made them all run for their weapons.
Maybe if they had been a little bit more prepared, if they had given at least half their attention to their watch, maybe, just maybe, the outcome would have been different.
The two seated near the wall flew toward it and, with a loud crash, fell to the floor, eyes wide open, as if in shock, but dead.
One who had lunged for his blaster found that right before his fingers touched it, his arm had bent into the most undesirable of positions. He screamed but nothing came out, it was as if all the air had been choked out of him, and his lungs felt like they were being crushed. His other limbs had followed suit and he became a writhing mass of pain on the floor, shaking madly and slowly quivering to a stop, to its death.
The last, who had managed to pick up his vibroblade, found that he would not have any chance to use it. He was being lifted into the air by the neck by some invisible force. His limbs lost their strength and his weapon slipped from his grasp. The last things he saw were the piercing green eyes of the dark figure from under his hood, and everything just went black. His body fell to the floor, lifeless, like the others.
Silence fell upon that place of death. It became yet another typical tragedy on the Smuggler's Moon. The figure seemed to pause and waver. If only we could have talked. It didn't have to end this way.
The cloaked figure walked towards the door that now lay unguarded and looked at the console.
The access code has been changed to 5105. It will be nice to see you back on duty. He had overheard the conversation of the Trandoshans from the bar. That was what he had been waiting for during his stay there. It was all he needed to carry out the operation much more smoothly.
His hand came out from under his cloak, his dark leather glove a perfect fit around his fingers. He reached out and typed in the access code slowly. The numbers flashed green on the screen and as he pressed the enter button, the console flashed a bright green line and the door slowly opened.
As he entered and the door shut behind him, darkness enveloped him, save for the dim illumination from some hanging lamps above on the high ceiling.
Crates upon crates were stacked on top of each other. They had the feel of weapons crates and he knew exactly what was in them. This bastardization would end.
On the other side of the warehouse he could see droids unloading more crates. This mess would take up quite a while to clean up, what with the chain of supply that seemed evident from the numerous trucks filled with crates. But the best place to start would probably be here at its core. The shipping would cease and the operation be scrapped utterly if its top brass were to come to an unpleasant end.
He surveyed his surroundings. Moving beams of light indicated that there were guards on patrol among the boxes. The droids unloading the shipment looked to be outfitted with a couple of blasters. There were cameras at strategic points of the warehouse and turrets hanging right beside them. At the far end of the room was a staircase that led to a room above it, and through the glass window and the blinds within, shadows could be seen moving.
Stealth seemed like a good idea but with the outcome he had in mind, the guards would know anyway and he would have to deal with them and the other defenses one way or another.
He felt a beam of light turn into the racks to his right. Listening to the steps and feeling the movement of the presence, he waited for the moment that the guard was in line with him and then he struck.
Giving the shelf of crates a mighty kick, he toppled them over and listened to the guard's startled scream. He did the same with the shelf to his left, causing a domino effect in both directions.
With no longer any cover from the crates and having exclaimed his presence with all the noise, all the warehouse's defenses focused on the dark figure. The loading droids dropped their crates and shot a salvo of blaster fire. With a wave of his hand, the red beams were returned to the droids.
The cameras locked onto him and the turrets followed suit. The next turn of events revealed the identity of this cloaked assailant for all in that place to see.
A flash of green, the deflection of blaster fire towards several turrets and the unexplainable implosion of the rest, followed by a scream, sent panic into the atmosphere.
- - -
The breathless guard ran away from the fighting. He had heard the orders from their captain clearly, but he didn't sign up for a death sentence. "It's a Jedi, men! Kill him!" The command echoed in his head but his heart just beat harder and faster.
No one said anything about a Jedi! They said the job was to kill any civilians who went snooping around in the Exchange's operations.
He heard his fellows' screams. They were probably being decapitated of hand and limb, slowly and professionally. The smoke and dust were heavy in the air and the red and green flashes of blaster fire flared every few moments.
It was just supposed to be a simple guard job. The Exchange was just shipping weapons. Even when the shipping was illegal, the Jedi never seemed to care. Nar Shaddaa was on the Outer Rim. They rarely interfered with things in the Outer Rim. They never seemed to care.
More blaster fire, more screaming.
"It's a Jedi, men! Kill him!" The command echoed in his head but his knees lost their strength and gave way. The mercenary slid onto the floor and crashed into one of the fallen crates.
It's just weapon shipping! He screamed in his head as he tried to regain his footing. What the hell would--?
The man stared in fearful bewilderment at what rolled out of the broken box.
More blaster fire, more screaming. Then silence, complete and unnerving silence.
The sound of footsteps came from where the fighting had been. The Jedi was coming.
He did sign on for a death sentence. They all did. The weapons on the floor proved it.
Why didn't anyone tell them what they were shipping?
The footsteps grew louder. They were getting closer.
This whole warehouse was a death sentence. It was practically begging for people to die.
The footsteps were now in front of him and the Jedi came through the smoke and dust, his green lightsaber casting an eerie glow about him.
"Please stop! Don't kill me!" The mercenary begged while his hands frantically groped around him for anything he could use as a weapon. "I didn't know! Please don't kill me!"
The Jedi took a step closer.
"Don't kill me!" The man screamed as he picked up one of the lightsabers strewn about him and brandished the handle in front of the cloaked figure. "You think you're the only one with a lightsaber! I can use this! I'll kill you!" With that, the frantic man pressed the on switch and the lightsaber's beam flourished itself. But it was aimed in the wrong direction, and the man had stabbed himself.
The mercenary, recovering from shock, began to scream in pain. The blade had seared effortlessly through his clothing and had impaled him on the floor.
The Jedi took a step back. He shook his head and stretched his hand out toward the man.
The sound of bone cracking and then silence again.
- - -
A surge of emotion ran through the cloaked figure. He could see the guard writhing in pain outside the door. He could hear the screams of the disorientated mercenaries when they saw his lightsaber. He could hear the frantic guard begging him not to kill him. He could see the unstable blade burning through the man's chest, the lightsaber beam burning to a point of losing its cohesion. It was if the lightsaber was screaming in pain. He could hear the breaking of the man's neck.
He could feel the breaking of the man's neck.
Over and over again.
The silence about him was deafening. The screaming from within his chest swelled. The smoke about him choked. His hand gripped his lightsaber tightly.
"Nod!" The dark figure screamed and the window of the room above shattered inwards. Then an explosion came and pushed itself outwards. "Come out, Nod! Let's finish this!"
The office was in flames and shambles. A fire roared. There had probably been some flammable substances within.
A dark figure made itself visible from within the flames. The fire parted and a man slowly floated out the window, levitating himself to the ground below.
"The Jedi have finally taken notice of me again." The man said mockingly, his voice carrying the haughty air of nobility. He was a tall man who was surrounded by the dignified air of age, but who stood strong like a man in his thirties.
"How did a traitor like you, a pathetic worm like you, gain power like that?" The cloaked figure asked, his voice seething through his teeth.
"Worm?" The man cocked an eyebrow and pushed his black cape backwards. It billowed slowly back to rest. "I am the Duke Lorian Nod of Barab, address me fittingly, fool."
A pause came between the two. Aggravation was thick in the air.
"And the question is not how I gained my power?" Lorian Nod's voice came like a knife. "The question is: Has the Council become so foolish as to send a mere boy to face me?" And it cut with an edge just as sharp.
He threw his hand forward in the movement of a slap and the cloaked figure's head jerked like it had been hit. The hood fell, revealing the Jedi to be but a young lad.
His face turned back to look at the Duke of Barab, his green eyes burning with indignation. "You are a worm!" He screamed again. The sabers at his feet flew away a couple of inches. The anger could be felt emanating from the Jedi like a strange heat. His breathing was heavy and a tense aura seemed to surround him
The rage subsided, his breathing relaxed and calmness fell about him. "Nothing more than a disgusting little worm."
"I will make you eat those words." Nod seethed and pulled a lightsaber from behind his belt. He clicked it on, and a red, volatile beam formed itself.
"And I will make you pay for your crimes."
The two lunged toward each other and a heated lightsaber battle began.
Lorian Nod was a man in his seventies, the best friend of the respected Count Dooku during their Padawan days, a failure of the Jedi Order who had sought to gain power by stealing a Sith Holocron from the Jedi Archives. He could have been great but he lacked the patience. Now, he stood before the young Jedi a broken old man who had fallen so far.
His lightsaber's erratic beam reflected his inner turmoil. Its red color reflected his inner darkness. As the Force would have it, he would fall.
He struck at the young Jedi with all his rage and ferocity. His anger for being cast out. His fury for being looked down upon. As the battle would have it, it would be his demise.
The green-eyed Jedi slashed a quick and powerful blow that severed the unstable blade for a brief moment. It was all that the Jedi needed to end the battle. Nod's blade reformed itself but it was too late, the clear green lightsaber beam was at his throat.
Silence fell again. The rage had been snuffed out. The dust slowly settled. The humming of the lightsabers were the only sounds in the dead warehouse. The Jedi's calmness blanketed everything. But their hearts beat strongly and their emotions screamed for release.
"So kill me now, boy." Lorian said mockingly. "Or does your flawed Jedi Code prevent you from striking me down?"
"I live the Code, and yes it would prevent me." The boy closed his eyes for a moment. He paused and pressed his lips together. "But the galaxy would be a much better place if there were a lot less Jedi secrets."
The hum of the saber came and the heated atmosphere subsided.
The young Jedi looked down upon the giant burning mass from the top of a nearby building. His mission here was complete. He had broadcasted the security videos on every underlying crime frequency he could connect to. The Exchange and anyone else watching would know that all operations concerning the mass-production of lightsabers would have to be scrapped if they didn't want any more Jedi intervention.
He had sliced into Lorian Nod's computer mainframe and had ordered the immediate cease of shipping. It would slow down operations and give him time to strike at any stubborn branches in the system. He hoped it wouldn't have to come that. The boy clenched his fists and lowered his head. There had been enough killing for this day.
Down below, the frantic fire squads and security forces of Nar Shaddaa scrambled around to put out the blaze and keep curious civilians away. They would be working on this mess for days to come. He had rigged the place with permacrete and thorium charges and had littered thermal detonators everywhere. The explosion had probably been felt throughout the whole moon.
The blaze wouldn't be going out anytime soon. The crystals in the lightsabers were ingots from Barab I. They had caused the distorted beams and the explosion in the office. Now, they served as the burning grave of the self-proclaimed Duke of Barab.
A tear rolled down the young Jedi's cheek. They were supposed to be saviors of the galaxy. Conceding to the good that he had done today, he had fulfilled the role of a Jedi. But all he saw was death and destruction.
Author's Note:
If you are familiar with the name Lorian Nod, it is because he is a canonical character and I have opted to change part of his official story since I am making an Alternate Universe (which I know I have not made quite evident yet. But you'll see.)