Deceptions
Seventeen seconds.
That was all the advantage Ben could hope for.
Five seconds for the false Jedi to scramble back up to their feet. Ten seconds for them to follow his mad dash down the length of the carriage. Two seconds to throw aside the compartment door.
No matter how Ben calculated it, it was an undeniable truth that the pursuit was right on his heels.
He took in the carriage he had just sprinted into at a glance. Rows of seats, curious faces turning to look at him and, at the far end of the carriage, the door onwards. If he had sixty seconds, he would have strolled casually through the car, moving slowly and drawing no attention to himself. If he had thirty seconds, he could have hidden – slipped unseen into one of the rows of seats, and turned his face away. Engaged someone in conversation, perhaps, like an old friend. Dropped onto the floor and rolled beneath a table and they might pass right by, oblivious.
But in seventeen seconds? He could only run.
Fifteen, fourteen...
So run he did, sprinting down the carriage, feeling his boots slide on the polished floor, the satchel smacking against his hip, knowing that curious eyes were turning on him with every frantic stride as his urgent flight drew the attention of the innocent passengers.
Eleven, ten, nine...
There wasn't enough time. He had to increase his lead or he was going to be caught.
Five, four, three...
How had the false Jedi found him? He had thought he was safe. He should have been safe.
One...
He was mere metres from the end of the carriage when he heard the far-off whoosh of the door behind him sliding open. A voice shouted "Stop that man!" A voice that was chilling and familiar. A voice woven with authority and madness.
Ben saw a passenger to his right stand up and reach out as he ran past, but the Rhodian hesitated and by then it was too late: Ben threw his hand out and swept the door ahead of him aside with the Force, and a second later he was through into the next compartment. He slammed the door closed behind him and slapped his hand onto the control panel. A quick burst of the Force and something sparked in the mechanism. That should buy him a few moments.
Running was not going to be a solution for much longer. Skywalker and his men were between Ben and the Kheelian section of the train, where Shaarm and Pakat sat oblivious, and they were corralling him onwards. Soon, he would reach the last few carriages and his enemy were right on his heels. He was trapped like a clawmouse in a snare.
Ben glanced about at the gloomy, windowless space. His unfamiliarity with this part of the train put him at a disadvantage, but as luck would have it, this might be one of the best hiding places he could hope for. The compartment was clearly one of the designated biped sleeping areas he had been told about. Ben could sense around two dozen creatures and saw some sleeping figures bundled up in blankets far above. The bunks came in two tiers up the walls instead of singly like the Kheelian berths, though there were still stacks of crates, boxes and produce towering either side of the walkway. Above his head, between the upper two rows of bunks, netting was slung the width of the car and almost to each end, like a vast hammock. Lumps and bulges in the cloth revealed it was similarly packed with luggage and goods – there may even be more bed spaces too.
Unlike the last compartment, no-one had noticed Ben enter. He perhaps had one more minute while Skywalker's men handled the sealed door, during which time there were a dozen places in which to hide. It would take his pursuers time to check every bunk and even longer to go through every crate and box stacked below that was large enough for a small man to conceal himself. All in all the compartment was as good a place to hide as one could hope for on a crowded train, but no doubt the false Jedi would think so too. And doing exactly what your enemy expected you to do was the best way to get caught.
Ben ignored the myriad hiding places to the left and right and instead ran on through the carriage towards the exit. He slid open the door into the vestibule, just as a distant hammering sound started up behind him. His enemies had apparently discovered the 'faulty' door control. It wouldn't be long before they forced it open. Ben darted in, closing the door behind him and subjecting the panel to the same treatment as the last, jamming the mechanism and sealing the door shut. Good. He had gained a small lead and was completely out of sight of his pursuers. Now to think.
Ben glanced around the vestibule. It contained no people or furniture, just two doors at each end leading respectively back and onwards through the train, and, on his right, a large external door. Through the thick transparisteel window, the world outside flickered and flashed past in a blur. Even as the thought came into his head – throw open the door, climb out onto the train roof, pass unseen above his pursuers - Ben dismissed it as pure nonsense. This was real life, not some cheap holonovella. They were travelling at 400kph; if he even managed to force the door open against the safety mechanisms and the external pressure, trying to hold onto the side of the train in those wind speeds would rip his arms off. No use trying to get under the floor or into the roof space of the train either. Both the ceiling and the floor of the vestibule seemed to be made of solid durasteel plates.
There was nothing for it but to go on. Frustrated, Ben hurried to the next compartment door. No need to guess what was upcoming this time; a panel on the door read LOUNGE in Basic aurebesh characters. By his calculation, that meant after the lounge there was only one further biped sleeping compartment and the new goods car which had been connected up at Zabora station. He was running out of train. He needed a new strategy.
The appearance of Skywalker and his false Jedi henchmen on the train had been a horrible surprise, just when Ben had finally thought himself safe. There was no way that they could have overtaken the train by any means other than some form of low altitude all terrain vehicle, or perhaps even a starship. They must have boarded at Zabora, when the train had last stopped. For all his efforts, all his hiding and subterfuge, Ben had still not evaded them, and there was no possibility that his pursuers would quit now, not after twenty days of pursuit.
That at the least told him all he needed to know about the man who called himself Skywalker. It was clear he was highly intelligent: dedicated, bold and ruthless. He had independent transportation, funds, resources, a disguise, and he had access to something else Ben did not currently have: back-up. Skywalker and his three friends could afford to split their party to both search the sleeping compartment and still continue on in pursuit after Ben.
Skywalker was not going to stop.
Ben touched the lounge door release and then hesitated. Up until today the rumours had only spoken of three Jedi, but there had definitely been four just now when they had confronted him. This Skywalker's resources seemed to be limitless, and there was nothing to say there weren't more accomplices elsewhere on the train. The lounges would be the ideal places to set a trap.
Nothing for it; he had to go on. He was out of options, and the durasteel jaws of the trap were closing fast. Ben took a moment to drag his scarf free and wrap it loosely around his head and shoulders, like the headscarves he had seen the other human labourers wear. It wasn't much of a disguise but it might fool a casual glance. He breathed deeply, forcing his muscles to relax, and felt the Force wrap around him. Hide me, he thought. Let me pass unnoticed.
A muffled thud in the compartment behind him spurred him into action. Ben slid open the door to the lounge compartment and, adopting a slow but purposeful gait, stepped in. He took in the scene ahead with a subtle, lightning-sharp glance. There was no clear sense of danger or threat emanating from any of the twenty-three beings in the compartment; fourteen adults and nine children, all bipeds. No-one looked up as he entered, and he saw no sign of movement as of someone drawing a concealed weapon.
Ben did not let himself relax though. He slowly walked on, keeping his eyes low, and glanced around the rest of the compartment. It was smaller and gloomier than the lounge designed for the Kheelian passengers. It lacked the large gallery windows of the latter; instead a line of low round portholes looked out over the inhospitable plains. There was also no canteen, only a couple of automated vendors which stood in front of the grey durasteel wall at the far end. A narrow corridor led onwards into what must be the last sleeping car.
The bipeds in the compartment – humans for the most part, and two more Rodians - were clustered into family groups around tables. A few solitary figures were looking out of the windows. Three of the humans glanced up at him as he passed through the carriage but all looked away, uninterested. He felt no eyes lingering suspiciously. If there were more fake Jedi on the train, they did not seem to be here.
As he continued, Ben's thoughts whirled. What was he going to do now? Just finding a hiding place was not going to be enough. Ben knew Skywalker would tear this train apart looking for him, and they were still hours from the city. The false Jedi had followed him at every turn, anticipated each move he made. He was going to have to do something unpredictable if he was going to escape this train with his life. Ben turned the problem on its head as he walked. He knew Skywalker was ruthless and unstoppable. So what did Skywalker know about him? True, his pursuers might have been familiar with the man he was before he lost his memory, but the lack of that past life and all its prior experiences no doubt made Ben a different person now. Just how different was yet to be seen. So what unintended patterns had Ben's own behaviour exhibited so far?
He was cautious, that was clear. Conflict had always been a last resort; if threatened he had chosen to run or hide rather than fight, or if he could, to talk his way out of trouble. That said, the business with the narms had shown he wouldn't hesitate to take lives, or indeed sacrifice himself too without a thought, if it meant protecting those he cared about. That was a trait his enemies would no doubt exploit if they became aware of it. He made plans and strategies and calculated risks; he had stepped naturally into a leadership role when required but he was just as content to keep quiet and stay under the radar. He had avoided being seen as much as possible and he had gone to some lengths to avoid authority figures and official recognition.
Ben suppressed a sigh. That didn't give him much to work with. If he hid he would be found, and he doubted he would be able to talk his way out of this one. Was his only chance to stand and fight, then?
No. There was still another option. He had a name now, and an ID. He was a registered citizen and his liberty and maybe life were under threat. What would any other innocent civilian do under such circumstances? Notify the authorities, of course. And who comprised the authorities on a train?
Ben paused. On his left a group of young humanoid males were clustered around a table, intent on their sabacc cards.
"Excuse me," Ben asked them, quickly. "The train guard?"
The teens barely looked up. "Somewhere down there," one of them said vaguely, waving towards the end of the car.
"Thank you," Ben said, and walked on to the end of the lounge compartment. On his left was the corridor to the next compartment. On his right, a smooth grey metal wall with a single plain door almost out of sight behind the vending machines. A small plate in the centre of the door read:
NO ADMITTANCE.
Now that was promising.
Maintaining his purposeful walk, Ben turned right and stepped confidentially up to the door. Without a pause, he grasped the handle and shoved, as if he had every right to be entering a restricted area. Confidence was the key to invisibility in a crowd; act nervous and you stood out a mile. That said, if the door was locked he was going to look like a fool.
It was. Old fashioned mechanical lock too, with no electrical panel he could short out with the Force this time. Turning slightly to hide the movement, Ben reached into his satchel and slid out his ID card and the datapad stylus. Keeping his body between the door and the onlookers in the carriage behind him, he slid the card between the door and the frame, pushed the stylus into the lock mechanism and twisted.
Nothing.
Come on, come on…
On the third attempt, the lock gave a soft click. The hatchway slid open and Ben walked through. Without glancing back he closed the door firmly behind him and twisted the lock home.
For a moment he just stood, silent and breathless; awaiting the hue and cry would break out behind him, expecting any moment to hear fists pounding on the door. But nothing happened. Slowly, Ben breathed out his relief; tried the let the tension and the fear release their toxic hold on his mind.
He was safe, for now.
At last, he looked around. As he had suspected, the space he had entered was a maintenance bay. One wall held an array of switches, levers and data screens, probably for controlling all the minor systems of the train, such as the door releases, heating and the like. There were large metal shelving units and cupboards too, stacked with towels, blankets, soap and other consumables, and all around was a clutter of cleaning equipment, tools and spare parts.
Beyond the maintenance area, in the far corner of the crowded room, was a curtain. Ben drew it carefully aside and revealed what could only be a tiny living space with a bed even narrower than the passenger berths, a sink, a rail holding a row of neat dark clothes, and stacks of books and datapads in teetering piles.
Curious.
Suddenly the sound he had been dreading broke the quiet of the compartment. Footsteps outside, followed by a soft click as someone tried the door handle. Ben froze.
Perhaps they would pass by. Perhaps they would-
The handle twisted and rattled but the lock held.
Ben sank back into a shadowy corner behind the shelving units and held his breath. Don't see me, he thought hard, weaving his need to hide into the Force, filling the room with a numbing blanket of obscurity like a masking smoke. Don't see me. Look away.
There was a scrape of metal as a key entered the lock and another click as the bolt drew back. The door slid aside.
"...deeper than the space between the stars...hmm hmm...love, the universe that could be ours..."
Wait, was that...singing?
A tall figure had ambled into the room, humming loudly. A teal-skinned hand slid the door closed, and, as the lock clicked shut, elegant lekku brushed against the back of a dark green jacket.
Ben gave a ghost of a smile. If he believed in good luck this must surely be the first example he had encountered in some considerable time.
Ditto, the train guard Ben had befriended not eight hours previously and the very creature he had been searching for, barely even looked around. The Twi'lek wandered into the room, still humming, and shrugged out of his uniform jacket with a comfortable sigh. While dumping his satchel on a nearby shelf his glance skimmed across the corner where Ben stood barely hidden, but to Ben's surprise, Ditto's eyes didn't pause for a second, merely sliding away from the intruder, oblivious. The Twi'lek just crossed to one of the control panels and began making a minor adjustment to a dial, still singing softly to himself, fully at ease.
Ben had not been seen. He could stay here, still and quiet, and hope that whatever influence was keeping him hidden lasted until they reached the City. But that was hours away still and this was his only chance to act first, to take control of a situation that had been spiralling wildly out of his grasp since he had first become conscious twenty-three days ago.
Ben straightened and stepped slowly out of the shadows.
"Hello there," he said.
Ditto jumped as if he had been electrocuted and spun around. His hands flew up in front of him as if to ward off a blow, but made no movement towards the shiny black and chrome blaster that hung at his hip. That told Ben a good deal; as he had suspected, the weapon was probably new and the Twi'lek was no warrior. Any arms training he would have received as part of the job would likely be rudimentary, his experience with the weapon non-existent. He had snapped and blustered at Ben last night but would he freeze in a fire fight? Most probably.
All in all perhaps not the best ally a hunted man could hope for.
"Ben?" The guard exclaimed. "What are you doing in here? This area is staff only!"
"I know," Ben said. "I am sorry but I needed to speak to you rather urgently."
"Wait, how did you even get in here?" Ditto glanced back towards the entrance in some confusion. "The door was locked..."
"Never mind that now," Ben pressed. "I need your help."
"Actually, my shift just ended," Ditto said. "The geomag storm has moved faster than they predicted and in a few hours we'll have to shut down the engines until it passes. We won't make the city today so I'm off duty until we have to halt and I get to spend the next twenty hours up to my neck in complaining passengers. Go back up the train to Car 21, you'll find the quadie guard's lounge. Ask for Jebett, she'll help."
Ben shook his head. "I can't," He said. "It has to be you. Please, just listen to what I have to say. Then you can decide if you are willing to help me."
Ditto was still looking unsure, but he eventually nodded. "All right, I guess," he said. "Mind if I get a drink first though? It's been a long night."
Ben gestured towards the small curtained area he guessed was Ditto's quarters. The Twi'lek tossed his jacket onto a rail, kicked his boots off, and picked out a couple of bottles from a tiny cooler in the corner. Ben declined the offered beverage and forced himself to wait, patiently, while Ditto made himself comfortable. At last the other sat, feet up on the control panel, and gestured to Ben.
"Okay, shoot."
Ben paused, suddenly unsure where to start. A little honesty might be the key here. But not too much, of course.
"What I told you before," he said. "About myself. Coming from the City, being a university researcher, studying the narms...Well I am afraid that was not entirely true."
"Okaaay," said Ditto, drawing the word out. "I'll be honest; I have no idea where this is heading."
"I am in hiding," Ben said. "My work at the university...it's a cover. I am not from Ata. I can't give you all the details, but some time ago, on another planet, I came into possession of some information, information that led to the arrest and imprisonment of some extremely dangerous individuals. I was sent here and have been in hiding ever since, to avoid retribution. But I have reason to believe that my identity has been discovered."
"What the kark... No. No way. That's bantha druk." Ditto was staring at him, half-smiling. "This is a wind up, right? Or a bet?"
"I'm afraid not," said Ben. "I am quite serious. Possibly deadly serious. At least four bipeds boarded this train at Zabora, most likely bounty hunters. They are in disguise, and are armed and dangerous. They have already tried to attack me once this morning."
Ditto was shaking his head, still not taking it in.
"You're really telling me, truthfully, that you are some sort of protected witness? And they sent you here? What did you do, snitch on a Hutt?"
"I can't say."
"Is your name even Ben?"
"It is now," said Ben, holding out his Ident card.
"Kark me," Ditto muttered, glancing at the card and handing it back. "That's quite a story. You say they are here? On the train?"
"Yes," Ben repeated, patiently. If he couldn't win the guard's trust now, he'd be in big trouble. He could, of course, use the Force to make the Twi'lek believe him. That mind trick he had used on the nurse in Tszaaf. But somehow it didn't seem right to use it on a friend. He wanted Ditto to believe him for his own sake, not because of some compulsion. "They've seen me and no doubt they'll be heading this way trying to find where I ran off to."
"When you say dangerous, how dangerous are we talking?" Ditto asked. He'd dropped his feet down from the console and was leaning forward now, beginning to look slightly anxious.
"I don't think they will have any interest in anyone else," Ben said. "But I have been their guest before and have no desire to repeat the experience."
He twitched aside his scarf and collar to reveal the thick yellowish scab that covered the angry red burn scar forming on his throat. He heard Ditto draw in a breath, and knew he was believed.
"They did that...? Hells. Ben, I'm sorry, but...what do you want me to do? We're just guards. I'm not trained for this. We can legally make arrests but we're not cops. I don't know how to fight four people..."
"Just let me hide here for now," Ben explained. "I'm sure they'll try and recruit your assistance sooner or later, but please, whatever tale they spin about me, you must not believe them. They aren't what they claim to be. They are currently disguised as Jedi knights."
"Jedi knights?" exclaimed the Twi'lek, looking even more amazed. "But...how? Why would they-"
The door handle turned.
The lightsaber was in Ben's hand faster than he could think. His thumb hovered over the button, but he didn't press it. Not yet.
Ditto glanced at Ben.
The handle turned again and gave a slight rattle. There was silence for a second, and then came three firm knocks.
"Shift's ended," the Twi'lek shouted at the door in Galactic Basic. "What do you want?"
A muffled voice from the other side called back.
"Please open up, sir. We just want to talk to you."
Ben knew that voice. Fear poured over him like an ice rain.
"It's them," he whispered to Ditto, already moving. "Please. Trust me."
Ditto swallowed, but didn't respond. He stepped towards the door.
Ben slipped silently behind the curtain that screened the guard's tiny living alcove, gripping the 'saber tightly. He crouched down, pressing his back to the wall until he could see into the maintenance area through the narrow gap at the edge of the curtain.
Even as Ditto was unlocking the door, the knocking came again.
"All right, keep your shirt on," muttered the Twi'lek and slid open the door.
Ben couldn't see them from the angle, but he heard Skywalker's all-too-familiar voice.
"Good morning, sir. You are the guardsman for this part of the train?"
"Yeah, but I'm off duty. You'll have to go see the Kheelian guard. One of them speaks Basic. They can help with any trouble."
"Oh, you have trouble alright, my friend, and you are going to want to hear this. May we come in? I don't wish to have this conversation in the hall."
"I guess..."
Ditto clearly had little choice in the matter as two figures were already stepping into the room, pulling the door shut behind them. Ben recognised the man who had called himself Skywalker and one of his accomplices from earlier, a near-human male with very pale, almost lemon-coloured skin and silver eyes. Both were still dressed in sweeping brown robes and hoods that shadowed their faces. The other male and female he had seen must be elsewhere, perhaps searching the other compartments.
Ditto stepped back, keeping himself between the intruders and the rest of the room.
"Well, what is it?" The Twi'ek said, with a familiar bravado. "You're cutting into my drinking time."
"My name," said the man with the blue eyes, "is Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. I am here because I need your help."
"I told you," said Ditto, stubbornly, folding his arms. "I'm off duty."
Ben closed his eyes. Ditto might be trying to help but his terrible acting might just get them both killed.
"Interesting," said Skywalker. "You did just hear me say we were Jedi? Everyone else we have met has fallen over themselves to help us. You don't even seem surprised. I would have thought a Twi'lek would be particularly eager to lend their assistance to our mission, given the vital role we Jedi so recently played in the liberation of Ryloth..."
"I don't live on Ryloth," Ditto returned. "I don't care what happens to that stinking planet. It's been a long night, Master Jedi, can we get to the point where you tell me what you want?"
"Of course. We are here on Ata pursuing an escaped prisoner. He is armed and extremely dangerous."
"An...escaped prisoner."
"Yes. He has been hiding out in some backwater near the moors. We've been closing in on him for some time but we finally have him trapped somewhere on this train. For the safety of everyone on board it is imperative that we apprehend him as soon as possible. Alive, of course, to stand trial for his crimes."
"What crimes?"
"They are numerous, but in particular he recently kidnapped a Jedi master. Tortured him to death with his own weapon."
"Stars' end," muttered Ditto.
"Precisely," said Skywalker. "He is extremely cunning and is likely to tell any number of falsehoods to gain your sympathy and trust. Do not believe anything he tells you. You have no idea what he is capable of."
Ditto was silent. Ben gripped the 'saber tightly.
"What do you want me to do?" the Twi'lek asked, quietly.
"Keep out of our way," Skywalker said. "We'll catch him, but you must let us work without interference. We know he is somewhere at this end of the train, and I am going to search every inch of it 'till he is caught. That said, if you or the other Kheelian guards spot him, do not hesitate to detain him. I authorise you to use violence if necessary to subdue him. You have blasters? Good. Stun him or injure him, and bring him to us. I will take it from there. Here, his picture."
Skywalker handed a flimsi to the Twi'lek. Ditto glanced at it and Ben saw him twitch; an unconscious motion, no doubt, but a damning one to the watching Jedi. Both of them looked up and directly towards the curtain behind which Ben hid. The silver-eyed henchman pulled out a blaster in one smooth motion and stepped towards the alcove.
There was nowhere else to hide. With the only option Ben had left, he leapt vertically up into the air, catching hold of an overhead pipe and bracing his feet against the opposite wall. Beneath him, there was a rattle and the curtain was whipped aside. Ben locked his joints and froze. Beneath him he could see the top of the henchman's hood, his arm, the black gleam of the blaster in his hand and all the while Ben was gripping onto the ceiling like a spider. It would take just one glance up from the man below and it would all be over. Don't look up. Don't see me.
"Yeah, I've seen that guy," Ben heard Ditto's voice, a little too fast and a little too loud. "Last night, in the canteen. Don't know where he is now though."
The man with the silver eyes directly below Ben wasn't taken in by the distraction. He looked around the alcove with what felt like an agonising slowness. He ducked and peered under the bed, poked into every corner with his blaster and riffled through the clothes rail.
"Gurra?" called Skywalker's voice from out in the main room.
"There's nothing," the man responded. The man stepped back into the maintenance bay and let the curtain fall closed. He never once looking up.
"Very well," Ben heard Skywalker say. "Please, remember what I have said, guardsman. We want this man alive. You will bring him straight to us if you see him?"
"Yeah," Ditto said, quietly. "Sure."
There were footsteps, fading away, and then the click as the door back out to the lounge slid open and then closed once more. With all his sense, Ben could just make out muffled footsteps continue along the corridor.
"Ben?" Ditto's voice called, cautiously. Ben dropped carefully down from the ceiling, letting the Force cushion his fall. He stepped out from the curtain. At his appearance, Ditto took a few steps back, not taking his eyes off Ben. The blaster was now in his hand and wariness had displaced the easy trust in his eyes. Ben followed at a casual distance, rubbing his aching collarbone. He really wasn't healed enough to be hanging off his arms like that.
"You heard what they said?" Ditto asked. "About you being a criminal?"
"I heard," Ben said. "It isn't true."
"No offence but how do I know that?" Ditto said. "What he told me – it makes sense. Everyone knows the Jedi are peacekeepers. Why would they lie?"
"Because those aren't Jedi," Ben explained again. Damn that Skywalker. "This isn't a Republic planet. Why would the Jedi be here?"
"They said they'd chased you here. That you killed one of their own."
"Also not true," Ben said. "Besides, even if it were – four Jedi? That seems like a very high number for a single criminal, no matter how dangerous."
Ditto paused. "That's actually a good point. On the newsfeeds they usually only come in pairs at most, except in the big battles. And there weren't any troopers."
"I'm sorry?"
"Clone troopers," Ditto clarified. "Have you been living under a rock? The Jedi have a whole army these days. If they were hunting a dangerous escaped prisoner, I would have thought they'd bring a squadron or two. I would. Stop the whole train, evacuate the passengers."
"Exactly," said Ben, while having no idea what a 'clone trooper' might be, or why peacekeepers would need an army. "Please, Ditto. You are the only hope I've got of not dying today. I can't prove to you that what I'm saying is true, but think about it like this. I'm not the one asking you to shoot someone, or detain a person you don't know using violent force. The last thing I want is for this to end in anyone getting hurt. There are Kheelians here on the train that will vouch for me. I just want to be left alone. I just want to be allowed to live my life, in peace."
Finally, Ditto nodded. "All right. All right, I'll help you. But I just lied to that Skywalker guy, and my job is on the line here. So please, please, don't turn out to be some kind of wanted outlaw.
Ben couldn't help but smile a little. "I'll try not to."
"Okay," said Ditto. "So what do we do?"
"I need a way out," Ben said. "I'm outnumbered and they have me trapped. I have to get off this train."
"A way off? No chance," Ditto snorted, dashing his hopes immediately. "Sorry. Zabora was the last station before the City. There's nowhere else to get out."
"You said the train will have to make a stop because of the magnetic interference from the storm..."
Ditto turned and tapped a few keys on a datascreen mounted over the control panel. "Storm will be over us by 15 turns, that's six hours from now. We'll start slowing down at 13 turns to make sure the train is fully stationary and all the equipment is properly shut down before the worst of it hits."
"So I have to stay hidden for four more hours. When the train stops, I'll make a break for it."
Ditto was shaking his head. "Come on, that's impossible. We're in the middle of the Scarred Plains, Ben!"
"So, what's out there?"
"'What's out there?' Absolutely nothing, that's what, for hundreds of kilometres. There's nowhere to go to. The train is shielded from the contamination but if you somehow got out you wouldn't last a day. It would be suicide. You'll just have to hide-"
Whatever Ditto was about to say was interrupted by a loud hiss of static. The Twi'lek reached for his bundled-up jacket and pulled out a small radio communicator.
"...are you there? Ditto?" The caller's voice was distorted with static.
Ditto cursed, lightly. "Storm's messing with the signal already." He explained, and pressed the transmit button.
"Yeah, I'm here, Jebett, but I can barely hear you. What's going on?"
"...someone here... looking for a pechnar," crackled the voice. "...called Ben Waken. Do you ...?"
Ditto looked at Ben, wide eyed.
"Who's asking?" he said into the radio. There was silence for a moment, then they heard:
"...couple of Kheelians...name...Shaarm and Pakat?"
Ben let out a breath. "Those are my Kheelian friend, the ones I'm travelling with," he explained. "I haven't been gone that long but I suppose they must have become concerned...I have to warn them about what is going on. They might be in danger too."
Ditto nodded and made to press the speaker button. Ben stopped him, swiftly.
"Get them to head down towards us, but don't say anything too specific," he warned. "Low tech radio communications are far from secure and anyone could be listening."
Ditto gave him an odd look, perhaps confused by his excessive paranoia, but he obeyed the instruction. "Jebett, tell the Kheelians to head towards the biped end of the train. I'll come and meet them, help them find their friend."
There was a little more silence, then they heard:
"...all right...tell them...out."
"Good," Ben said, once Ditto had tucked the radio back into his jacket and pulled the garment back on. "Now just to get back up the train without being spotted. We can assume, I think, that the two false Jedi who were in here have moved on to the end of the train, but where the other two are is anyone's guess."
"Can you describe them?" said Ditto as he headed for the door. "The four you saw?"
"Well there was the leader, the human male with the blue eyes..."
"Skywalker?"
Ben nodded. "The other three were also humanoids; the human hybrid with the yellow skin, he seems to be called Gurra, and a human female. The fourth was- damn I can't recall the name of the species. Tall, bipedal, with furred faces and limbs..."
"Wookiee? Bothan?"
"More feline, with fangs. Angular features."
"Zygerrian?"
"Yes, that's it."
In the meantime, Ditto had slid the door open a crack and was peering out into the main lounge. Quietly, he asked:
"The female. Was she short with cropped off red hair, blue facial tattoos and a sort of brown cloak, like the others?"
"From your precise description I assume she's waiting just outside in the lounge?"
Ditto slid the door silently closed and straightened. "Yeah, she's hanging around by the vending machines. Kind of stands out what with the outfit and the fact everyone in there is staring at her. But she's gonna see you too, the moment you step out of here."
"Perfect," Ben muttered. He was well and truly trapped.
Ditto shrugged. "Why are you trying to go anywhere though? You could just stay here. They've searched this room so I'm sure they won't come back."
"Oh, they will if they don't find me. If they've left someone hanging around outside it is because they think they have a lead. Otherwise she'd be searching elsewhere. Perhaps she's waiting for you to leave so she can follow you. Or maybe she intends to break in here and search the place as soon as you go."
Ditto tapped on the maintenance console, uncertain.
"We need a distraction," Ben said, firmly. "I need to draw her onwards into the next compartment so I can get back up the train to the Kheelian section. What is in the next compartment?"
"Biped bunks," Ditto says, "And then the Zabora freight car. It won't take those guys long to search that though. If you want to go, I think you've got to go now."
Ben nodded. "Very well. I don't suppose you would be amenable to lending me a spare uniform?"
"Kriffing hells, you don't ask for much do you?" Ditto looks startled. "You know I would lose my job?"
"I know," Ben said, low. "I do know that and I am grateful beyond words. And I'm open to other suggestions if you have them. But think about it like this; you'll very probably be saving my life."
"Sithspit," Ditto cursed. "Fine. Fine! You're the most persuasive son of a Hutt I ever met, you know that? Force, I hope you aren't a con artist."
Ditto disappeared into the curtain alcove and came back with a folded bottle green uniform which he dumped on the console in front of Ben. Ben took off his coat, stuffing it into his bag, then pulled on the green trousers and jacket over his own clothes. The Twi'lek was thankfully narrower across the chest and shoulders than was common for his species, so the jacket didn't look utterly absurd on Ben's half-starved frame, though the trousers of course had to be belted and rolled up several times so that he wasn't in danger of tripping over them and falling on his face. He pushed the rolled-up ends into his boots and laced them up to hide the excess fabric. There. That probably looked all right.
"You look ridiculous," Ditto commented, handing Ben another belt. "Also there's only a single biped guard on the whole train, and it's not like you and I look similar."
"Ah, but Skywalker probably doesn't know that you're the only guard," Ben pointed out, buckling the belt up over the jacket and then straightening the garment. "Besides, this is only meant to fool a casual glance. Just enough to make no-one look twice."
"How are we going to get the female out of the lounge though?" Ditto asked. "She wont be looking casually at anyone. And what about the Zygerrian?"
"These panels - they give you access to the environmental controls in each carriage, right?" Ben asked, pointing to the main console. The Twi'lek nodded.
"Very good," Ben said. "Well, when I say, cut the lights in the compartment next door, the sleeping compartment. Then, five seconds after, the lights in the lounge."
"They'll cycle back up," Ditto warned. "You'll only get about 10 seconds outage before the emergency lights cut in and the system reboots."
"That'll be enough," Ben said, with a nod. It had better be. "I'll worry about the Zygerrian if we encounter him."
"Hang on," Ditto said, and hurried back behind the curtain. He stooped low and pulled something out from under the bed, returning a second later with a box.
"It's part of the standard uniform," Ditto said, holding out a hat and discarding the box it came in. The hat was the same bottle green with a stiff black peak over the eyes, almost like the hat of a Nubian security officer.
Ditto continued. "Obviously, they let me get away with not wearing it, because…" he gestured to his lekku. "But it might help you."
Ben accepted the hat and pulled it on, shoving as much of his ragged hair beneath it as he could. The brim shaded his eyes and might obscure his face a little.
"Thank you," he said. "Really. I mean it."
Ditto nodded, a little grimly, and went to the console. "Better get this done," he said. "Before that Skywalker guy reappears."
Ben crossed to the door and cracked it open, silently. The female was standing close by with her back to the door, staring across the lounge. Clearly waiting for something. Ben raised his hand and then dropped it, sharply.
"Now," he breathed.
There was a click as Ditto threw the switch. Then, faintly, from their right came a chorus if angry shouts and one or two startled screams.
"What the….?" said the woman and then she ran towards the door to the next compartment. She threw it open and went inside.
"Boss?" they heard her say and then the door closed behind her.
"Now!"
Ditto threw the switch and the lounge before them plunged into darkness, even the shafts of gloomy daylight struggling through the round porthole windows was cut off as the transparisteel went opaque and dark. Ben threw the door aside and darted out, Ditto at his back.
"What the hell?" someone on his right said.
"Where are the lights?"
"What's going on? Hey! Don't touch my cards, cheat!"
Ben and Ditto strode up the carriage as quickly as they could without running, while the figures around them in the dark yelled and complained. A scuffle seemed to have broken out amongst the sabaac players; Ben didn't look around.
"Hey, are those guards?" Someone shouted, spotting them through the gloom. "This is the third time in two days! Fix the damn lights!"
"Sir, what do you think we're doing right this second?" Ditto said, without stopping. "Excuse me…."
They reached the end of the compartment without anyone else stopping them and jogged into the vestibule. Ben closed the door behind them with a solid click, just as there was a distant hum of the lights powering back up. Someone behind them cheered.
"It worked!" Ditto was beaming, eyes shining. "I can't believe that worked!"
Ben was still moving, heading to the far door. "Yes, well, don't start celebrating yet. There's plenty of train still to go, at least one of them still ahead of us."
But despite Ben's fears they made it through the next four compartments without incident. No-one gave the uniform a second glance, and there was no sign of Skywalker's Zygerrian friend. Ditto muttered darkly about budget cuts and cheap manufacture when they reached the two doors with the broken lock mechanisms that Ben had fried, both now forced open. Ben wisely kept quiet about that.
At last they reached the carriage with the rows of refreshers. Ditto headed up to the far end to another door Ben hadn't noticed before, also marked NO ADMITTANCE. It was another maintenance area, about half the size of the one which contained Ditto's berth, but similarly arrayed with shelves of cleaning products, tools and equipment.
"You'd better wait in here," Ditto said. "I'm sure any minute we're going to run into one of the other guardsmen and then the moment they see you I'm going to get fired. Just keep out of sight for now; I'll be back soon with your friends."
As it turned out 'soon' meant almost immediately. Ben had barely sat down before the door was being opened once more, and Ditto entered again, followed by the familiar and comforting figures of Shaarm and Pakat.
"We are sorry to disrupt your morning," Shaarm was saying in Basic, as she entered, Pakat following silently behind. "But our friend has not been seen since last night and we wanted to…"
Ben watched her gaze sweep over him without recognition before he enjoyed her almost comedic double-take of surprise as she suddenly recognised him.
"Ben! I give thanks you are safe! Where have you been?"
"And what in all the sky are you wearing?" Pakat added, as they both patted his shoulders and back.
"Both the disguise and my safety are thanks to my new friend Arendet'ti," Ben gestured to the Twi'lek with a nod of thanks. "But I'm afraid I had to tell him about the trial, and about how I am in hiding here."
Ben stared at Pakat hard as he spoke. He had no doubt Shaarm would pick up on the minor falsehoods he was telling, but Pakat, for all his sparkling intelligence, never lived quite as much in the moment as his mate. He might miss the subtleties of what Ben was saying entirely and say something to give the game away. But Pakat just stared between the three of them in confusion, saying nothing. Shaarm nodded to show she at least had comprehended what was going on, and that something urgent had occurred.
"What has happened?"
"They're here," Ben replied, in Kheeli. "On the train."
"What!?" Shaarm hissed and Pakat let out a little cry of dismay. "How?"
"They boarded at Zabora," Ben explained quickly. "At least four, perhaps more. They had me trapped at the other end of the train for a while but we slipped passed them. They won't be deceived for long."
"We left them far behind, in Tszaaf. How did they even catch the train? They must have a ship somewhere, or…"
Shaarm interrupted Pakat's panicky guesses. "It's going to be all right, Ben. You have a disguise and a safe place to hide here. They cannot know that you look different, that you changed your hair.."
"I'm not sure there is anywhere to hide. And I'm sorry - they've already seen me."
Shaarm and Pakat just stared in mute, horrified silence while Ben reported his encounter.
"Their leader calls himself Skywalker." Ben concluded, and then glanced at Ditto, not anxious to share everything yet with this new, uncertain ally. "He knows...all about what happened to me."
Shaarm nodded, looking fierce. "Does he mean you harm?"
"Oh yes," Ben said. "He is the one who gave me this before." He tapped against the bandage on his throat. "I recognised his lightsaber. It is the one they used to burn me."
Pakat looked horrified and Shaarm gritted her teeth.
"But the storm!" Pakat exclaimed. "We're stuck here! What are we going to do?"
"Wait, they have lightsabers?" Ditto said, finally catching up on the conversation. "You said they weren't Jedi."
"They aren't," Ben said. "Shaarm, Pakat - they aren't Jedi. That's what they are pretending to be. I can't explain how I know and I don't expect you to believe me. But they aren't."
"We believe you," Shaarm replied, instantly. "But what do we do? How are you going to escape?"
"The storm is coming," Pakat repeated. "Soon we're going to be parked up, maybe for days. How are we going to keep him hidden for that long? They will have as much time as they like to search everywhere."
"Technically they can't enter the staff areas," Ditto pointed out. "But as they came to me with their story about an escaped convict I expect they went to the other guards too, and they'll help that Jedi guy search every centimeter of the train. Never mind that they'll probably have given out other copies of your picture to everyone too, so the passengers will be looking out for you."
"I'm sorry," Ben said, low. "I'll just have to try and keep hiding or running. If I can't leave the train there isn't any other way out. But wherever I go though, it is vital that we are not seen together. Do you all understand? They must not suspect that we are associated or you will all be in as much danger as I. I would rather surrender than risk any of you."
The others were silent, too anxious to argue.
"Listen," said Ditto after a moment. "Like this guy said, we're going to have to stop in a few hours and then we won't move on again 'till the storm's over. It looks like a heavy storm in terms of intensity but it should be over quickly… I'm guessing worst case scenario we reach the City maybe the day after tomorrow."
"That's nearly 40 turns from now," Shaarm summarised.
"Do you have any radiation suits?" Pakat asked, suddenly. "For maintenance or something? Ben won't be able to stay hidden in the train that long, but what about if he was outside?"
Shaarm looked up. "He'd never be able to cling on while the train was moving. But if he could somehow get into a suit and outside while we were stationary…"
"That's mad," Ditto said. "Completely mad. We don't carrying any suits on board anyway. Maintenance work is all done at the stations."
But Ben had felt the spark of something. It felt like hope. What Pakat had just said had ring a bell in his memory. Something he has seen, recently… "There are protective suits on board," he mused, searching his patchy memory. "I remember seeing a shipping tag on a container when we first boarded. Anti-radiation protective clothing and equipment by Dormler Industries. Shipping unit crate 15/cf22...something. cf224c?. Destination: University research laboratory nine."
Ditto just stared.
"Well?" Shaarm prompted the Twi'lek after a moment, unfazed by Ben's eidetic and yet frustratingly sporadic memory. "Do you have a cargo manifest?"
"Um, yeah. Yeah, I do."
Ditto grabbed a datapad off the wall and flicked through it for a moment.
"You're right. Compartment 15. Astonishing."
"They won't be designed for bipeds though," said Pakat. "You wouldn't be able to move much."
"Hang on, you can't just take stuff from private shipping containers whenever you-", Ditto started to protest but Shaarm interrupted.
"Borrow, not take. We will put it back. Or you could explain to the owner; say the train officials needed to commandeer the suit for some other reason. Emergency repairs perhaps."
"Look, okay, maybe I just don't want to know," Ditto said, looking as shaken as anyone who tried to argue with Shaarm might look. "Keep all that to yourselves. Just for stars' sake don't damage anything and put it back when you're done."
The Twi'lek turned away for a moment as if wrestling with something. Eventually he turned back. "All that talk of maintenance might have given me an idea…"
Ditto cast a critical eye over Ben.
"What is it?"
"I'm judging how wide your shoulders are."
Ben raised an eyebrow. "Any particular reason?"
"I have an idea how you can move around the train unseen," Ditto proposed, "and, luckily for you, it doesn't involve theft followed by climbing onto the roof of a moving train and then dealing with wind speeds that will tear you in half."
"Well, I'm in favour so far. Care to elaborate?"
"When you boarded the train, did you also happen to notice the solar panel cladding array on the roof? Yes? Well, those panels are maintained by human engineers – small ones, mind you – as they have to crawl through the maintenance ducts which run beneath the roof space. Those ducts run the entire length of the train but the only access points are in crew-only areas. "
Ditto pointed directly upwards. Above his head was a small hatch.
Ben grinned.
Now they had two options and that was enough to come up with a plan, of sorts. It had been perhaps a turn since the Jedi had confronted Ben. Plenty of time for them to have searched the last few carriages at the rear of the train and to realise Ben had slipped past them. They'd almost certainly start to move back up the train, trying to herd him before them like an errant caprius. If Ben could make it past them using the crawl space in the ceiling, they might continue on to search the entire rest of the train before turning back again. Of course, eventually one of the other guards would probably clue Ben's pursuers in to the existence of the maintenance ducts, so he couldn't count on being able to hide there forever. But it would hopefully give enough time for Shaarm and Pakat to 'acquire' a protective suit from the Dormler Industries shipping crate and for the train to slow enough that he could survive outside for a few turns.
It wasn't much of a plan. But what other choice did he have?
Ben shoved a few key items into his pockets and then handed the rest of his satchel off to Pakat for safe keeping. He was going to need as few hindrances as possible when negotiating the maintenance tunnels.
"Well, are you ready?" Ditto asked.
"As I'll ever be."
Ditto released the hatch door and it swung aside. Pakat lifted Ben up and he scrambled into the small space, smacking his head almost immediately.
"You're heading that way," Ditto pointed. "It's about 240 metres to the next hatch in my maintenance bay or there's another right at the end of the train another 100 metres on from there. There's no other access though apart from those hatches so for stars' sake don't get stuck. None of us can get in there to pull you out so you'd likely be trapped until they next disconnect the carriages in about four month's time."
"I'll be fine," Ben says, looking down at their upturned faces. "See you on the other side."
"Good luck!" said Shaarm, and Ditto closed the hatch, plunging him into gloom.
Like most things in life, it was easier said than done, and there were several moments when Ben wasn't sure it could be done at all. At first it hadn't seemed too bad. He had lain flat, carefully taking his bearings before he set off back down the train, and that's where he noticed the gap between the curving roof above his head and the interlocking panels which formed the ceiling of the compartments below was not much more than 40cm high, and his movement was limited to flat crawling, pulling himself along using only his arms. Then, after the first few metres, the going began to grow more difficult. Wires and components from the solar panels above hung down around him, obstructing further movement, and every so often light fittings or the rails for the doors below jutted up through the floor. Added to the hot, dark, airlessness in the crawlspace and the fact he could only lift his head a few centimetres, the whole experience was a claustrophobic nightmare. The first time Ben's boot got caught up on a tangle of loose wires somewhere above the first vestibule it was all he could do not to panic and to remember to use the Force to untangle himself, brush the wires away and free the limb.
The roaring sound of the stabilisers outside the train was deafening and the walls shook and rattled around him. The crawl space was clearly not designed to be accessed when the train compartments were hitched together, let alone when the train was in motion. But there was no use worrying about that now, and no way to turn back even if he wanted to.
Two-hundred and forty metres. He could do it. He must.
A loud whirring noise ahead announced another upcoming set of doors in a compartment below and, for Ben, another negotiation of the tricky connection between the two carriages, connected by durasteel couplings and sealed together by thick bands of flexiduct casing. He had started by counting each metre that he crawled but he had long since lost count; this must the be sixth or seventh set of doors, surely. He must be nearly back at the biped lounge. As usual, the doors were the worst part; the housing extended almost 10cm proud of the floor up into the space and Ben had to try and squeeze over the obstacle without getting trapped in the narrow gap or catching his clothing or fingers in the whirring mechanism of the door housing. Ben shoved with his feet, scrabbled with his hands and forced himself over the bar. At last he was clear. That had to be the last carriage. It had to be.
Finally. He could see the hatch right ahead and the urge to give up had never been stronger. He could escape the crawl space in seconds, for the safety of the maintenance bay by Ditto's quarters and hide out there. Or he could risk it on foot through the last two carriages to the end of the train.
But no. If the false Jedi hadn't yet passed by beneath him and were still at this end of the train, watching the guard's office, he would be seen the moment he stepped out of the maintenance bay and all this would be for nothing. Worse than nothing, because if the humans got hold of him then Shaarm and Pakat would doubtless put themselves in danger trying to free him. He had to go on, stay hidden, all the way to the end of the train.
One last push. Ben gathered his strength, peered ahead in the direction of the distant shadow that was the end of the train and forced himself on. Only another 100m or so to the end of the train. Half what he had already done. Easy.
He lost track of time, dragging himself onwards through the narrow space, with the heat and the noise and the cloying airlessness. Time passed. Too much time. Then, his knuckles cracked into a ridge of durasteel and then slid over a smooth panel. The last access hatch in the last compartment. He'd made it.
Before he did anything, Ben dropped down onto his face and just breathed for a few seconds. Cramp was squeezing its way up and down his back and his shoulders were on fire. His arms, trapped beneath his body, were trembling. That had been a thoroughly unpleasant experience.
As he was lying there recovering his breath, there was a crackling sound below, followed by a mellow chime.
"Gentle passengers," announced a tinny voice in Kheeli, clearly through a set of speakers. The voice echoed up into the crawl space; it must have been transmitted throughout the train. "We have begun our deceleration in advance of the storm. In one hour the train will be stationary and current estimates predict progress will be halted for one full day and night. During the storm, all electrical items should remain switched off to prevent them becoming damaged. The canteen droids will remain in service. Please speak to your train guard if you have any concerns. We give thanks for your patience."
There was a slight pause then, as if the announcer had been presented with a sudden break from the standard script.
"Gentle passengers," the voice continued. "You may be aware that a peacekeeping operation is taking place on the train. This is unusual but please follow the directions given to you by officials and co-operate with their activities. There is no danger."
Ben managed not to groan. That damned Jedi had thought of everything. Now everyone was going to be on the look-out for suspicious activity. Even worse for staying under the radar.
Now that he had caught his breath he noticed a thin sliver of light escaping around the hatch. Ben pressed his eye to the gap and saw he was looking down into another tiny maintenance bay. It was stacked with an increasingly familiar array of electrical dials and screens and piles of tools and cleaning products. But as far living beings went, the room was empty.
Ben moved his hands around until he felt a latch at the edge of the access hatch, and flipped it open. The hatch slid aside. With a degree of caution, Ben curled forward and dropped soundlessly into the room, landing in a crouch. Across from him was the only exit, leading out from the maintenance bay into the main train carriage. He paused by the door for a second, reaching out with his senses and the Force, but the room beyond was empty of any living beings. Cautious anyway, Ben opened the door and peeked out.
This was the last carriage; the goods van they had acquired at Zabora station. Unlike the other goods carriages he'd seen further up the train, the vast space around was not divided up into compartments. Instead, rows of massive shelving units ran along each wall and extended into the centre of the carriage. The near end was heaped three crates high with boxes and goods, mostly seeming to be building materials like metal girders, pallets of brick and stone, and containers of dried paint and unmixed duracrete.
His pursuers, having realised Ben had given them the slip by now, had clearly moved on back up the train, and it might take them many turns to search the other thirty or so carriages. Ben was to wait here until Pakat and Shaarm could bring him one of the experimental radiation suits. The 'experimental' nature was mildly concerning. Would he get enough protection from the suit to survive outside the train during the storm for the next 25 turns? Even if he did, he would be forced to re-enter the train when it started moving again and Ben had no idea how he could evade capture until they reached the City.
The shelving units obscured most of the view up the train to the door so Ben moved cautiously through the carriage, looking for a suitable place to conceal himself. He didn't know how long the others were going to be. His own progress through the train had been painfully slow, but there was at least a turn still until the train would come to a stop. So, wait it was. He was already regretting giving the rest of his possessions over to Pakat. Some food and water would be very welcome right now, but there was no helping that. What he had on him would have to be enough.
As he stepped around a shelving unit, something moved behind him. Before he could turn there was a screeching sound followed by a low static hum, a noise bursting with raw, visceral power. A sound that was growing increasingly familiar.
A lightsaber.
Ben turned slowly, and the blade was centimeters from his chest. Behind it, Skywalker's face was bleached with flickering shadows. Ben had been right about one thing at least. The 'saber's blade was blue.
The trap was sprung.
But Ben had felt nothing. He'd searched the compartment ahead with the Force before he had entered and it had been empty. He knew it. How had Skywalker hidden? How?
Skywalker was watching him through unblinking, hooded eyes. There was the slightest smile creasing his face as he watched Ben trapped at sword point, trying to figure out why his senses had failed him. As if in response to his thoughts, Skywalker raised his left arm. The glint of the suppression bracelet on his own wrist, the one Ben had so foolishly and unthinkingly cast aside in his flight that morning, was unmistakable. It had obscured the man entirely from Ben's senses.
"It was just a hunch," said the man who called himself Skywalker. "I'm rather surprised it worked myself."
He pulled the cuff free with his teeth and then dropped it into his palm. Ben utilised the momentary distraction to take a step back, intending to dash behind a nearby shipping crate but Skywalker instantly twitched the blade closer. Ben felt the heat against his skin and took the hint. He stopped moving. But there had to be a way to escape. He just needed time to think.
"Put that back on, please," Skywalker ordered, and tossed the suppression cuff lightly towards him. Ben deliberately fumbled the catch and let the thing bounce off his arm and fall to the floor. Skywalker gave him a look.
"Who are you?" Ben asked, but Skywalker wouldn't be drawn into conversation. He merely raised his hand and spoke quickly into a communicator, eyes fixed on Ben.
"Gurra. I have him. The last carriage."
Blast it. Now backup was coming too. Skywalker made a little gesture towards the floor with the 'saber blade.
"Pick the cuff up and put it on. I'm not going to ask again."
Ben didn't move. Skywalker must know the Force was his only ally right now and there was no way Ben would give it up so easily. He repeated his question instead, this time adding a little Force suggestion to the words. "I know you and your companions are not Jedi. Why did you lie?"
Skywalker suddenly flicked the blade, searing a thin line of hot pain against the flesh of Ben's shoulder. Superficial, no doubt, but a compelling warning nonetheless.
"Put that cuff on and maybe I'll tell you instead of cutting off an arm. Your choice."
Blast it. A glance at the man's face showed he wasn't bluffing. Ben needed more time and he needed answers. This might be the only way to achieve both. He crouched slowly and his fingers brushed the cuff where it lay on the floor. He reluctantly slid the hated thing over his hand, leaving it partially open. That feeling of being slowly suffocated under crushing ice began to squeeze in around him and he dropped forward onto his knees, gritting his teeth.
The false Jedi smiled at the sight. Leaning forward, he took hold of Ben's wrist and snapped the bracelet fully closed. The world tilted away from Ben in a dull, nauseating swirl and it was all he could do for a moment not to pass out. If he hadn't already been through this before in the early hours of the morning when he had been experimenting with the cuff he probably would have.
Skywalker must realise that Ben was Force-blind and defenceless. Not an ideal position to be in. But it hadn't seemed like the false Jedi was going to let his guard down before Ben was incapacitated in some fashion. And at least being Force-blind might be marginally less debilitating than losing an arm.
"Well?" Ben said, looking up at Skywalker from where he was kneeling, forcing down the sickness and dizziness and crushing pain. "You owe me an answer."
The man tilted his head a little, though the blade didn't falter. Ben could almost see the thought process flash behind his eyes: Ben was unarmed and the longer he stalled them with conversation, the sooner Skywalker's allies would arrive. Thus there was no harm in indulging a few questions.
The man smiled that unpleasant smile once again. "When I walked into your cell and you started asking where you were, and claiming you couldn't remember anything, I assumed we were being treated to yet another of your famous subterfuges. Clearly not. But once you escaped, well, telling everyone we were Jedi was an obvious countermeasure."
"Really. How so?"
"Come on. What did we have to lose? It made the locals much more helpful, for one thing. And if you were actually faking the whole memory loss thing, you would hear the word Jedi and think your little friend had come to save you. Of course, if you weren't faking and really had turned into a total basket-case, well then. It wouldn't matter what I was wearing or calling myself when I stunned you and dragged you back to my ship to cut out your brain."
"But you wiped my memory..." Ben argued, trying not get drawn in, though the need for answers was consuming him.
The man gave a vicious little laugh. "Oh no, we didn't. Like I said, I didn't even believe it at first. Amnesia? Please. We're not living in cheap holovid. But no-one is this good of an actor."
"But you do believe it now," Ben said. He'd slid his arms to his side and was carefully feeling round the cuff, trying to find that weak spot. "I don't remember anything. Don't you see? Whatever information it is that you want, I can't give it to you, even if I wanted to. I'm of no use to you, so you may as well leave me be."
Skywalker shook his head. "Oh, don't be so modest, my dear General. You are far from useless. I can think of a number of ways you will fit very nicely into my plan."
Ben's hands stilled and his mouth formed its own cold smile. "How kind. But I am afraid I must decline. I have plans of my own."
He stood up, suddenly, knowing it would put Skywalker off balance. The other man stepped in and raised the blade again.
"You aren't going anywhere. Sit down and don't test me. I don't want to melt the rest of the skin off your face; for one thing it will make a mess of this nice, tidy train. But I have already been delayed far too long sharing tea parties and lies with your furry little friends. Believe me, if there hadn't been kids in that house I would have burned it to the ground. So stop messing me about. I have no intention of being drawn into a conversa-"
There was a clang behind them; the distant door to the carriage was thrown open. For a split second, Skywalker took his eyes off Ben, glancing away, and Ben moved. Leaping back, he ripped the other 'saber out of its hiding place inside his sleeve, igniting the blade in a shrieking burst of blue. He swung his arm round and, in one smooth motion, slashed the blade down across his own wrist. The suppression cuff burst apart with a shower of sparks and molten metal, and the Force thundered back in to him.
Someone gave a shout and a second later, Skywalker's blade came down like a burst of lightning. Still dazed and reeling from the psychic blow of the Force returning, Ben stumbled and caught the blade against his own at the last moment. The two blades collided and locked, humming and buzzing like living things, pulsing out heat and power and energy, neither of them giving any quarter. In the swordlight, Skywalker's face flickered and glinted with madness.
Somehow Ben knew what to do to break the lock. He leaned back, letting his guard weaken for a second, and then pushed, flicking his wrist just so. His blade skittered across the other and the 'saber was twisted from Skywalker's grasp, falling clattering to the floor. The blade went out.
This time, Skywalker wasted not one second glancing after it; instead he snatched a blaster from under his robes and opened fire. Ben leapt to the side as bolts rained down, darting behind a container for cover. Skywalker was running back as he fired, disappearing between the shelves and yelling to the three other false Jedi who had sprinted into the carriage. Ben was outnumbered once again; he Force-jumped up three metres onto the top of the nearest shelf then dashed along the row, trying to keep Skywalker in sight.
"There he is!" The Zygerrian yelled from somewhere to his right. "Cut him off!"
Blaster bolts flashed in his peripheral vision; Ben threw himself forward and rolled, letting them spark harmlessly over his head. Came up and carried on running. Sensed another bolt come screaming towards his back and without wasting time to think he swung the 'saber around and cut the bolt from the air.
"Hey!" Someone yelled. "Mind your aim, Gurra! We're taking him alive."
"Like hell you are," muttered Ben.
He could sense two beings on his right, one on the left, out of sight. But directly below he caught a glimpse of Skywalker through the shelves. Ben leapt down from the crates to the carriage floor, rolled and landed in a crouch, using the momentum of the roll to swing the blade up. Skywalker bore down on him, slashing with his own sword in a rough parry, it clearly hadn't taken the man long to retrieve the weapon, though it did the false Jedi little good. Ben easily knocked the blade aside. He darted forward, ready to strike, but Skywalker still had the blaster in his left hand and once again Ben was forced back under a hail of bolts.
A shout from the left and the woman was there too, firing wide shots. Pinned down, Ben threw himself behind a pallet, just as a shot blasted against the metal floor, centimeters from his knee. These false Jedi might not want to kill him but they certainly didn't seem bothered about inflicting a crippling injury. Well, two could play at that game.
His brain calculating possibilities lightning-fast, Ben spun out from his cover and twisted his arm, catching the next incoming bolt and deflecting it right back where it had come from. The blaster sparked and clattered to the floor as Skywalker fell back with a cry of pain. But Ben paid for his moment of triumph immediately: he had stepped out from behind his cover and one of the female bounty hunter's shots flashed under the arc of the 'saber blade and clipped his arm. Ben gasped at the sudden, searing agony but there was no time for self-pity. He grabbed two boxes from high above his head with the Force, swept his arm forward and smashed them into the durasteel between him and his enemies. Cans went crashing across the floor; clouds of blue paint powder billowed out in every direction. Skywalker and the woman were thrown back, yelling, and Ben ran, sprinting to the next set of shelves and scrambling back up onto the top row. Two of the four false Jedi were down and fifty metres away the door of the carriage was open. He set off at a run; jumped, and landed on top of the next row of shelves; ran and jumped again to the row after.
"He's making for the door!" The Zygerrian shouted. "Cut him off!"
"Give it up, Ben!" Skywalker's muffled voice was somewhere below. "There's no escape this time. If we leave this train without you, people are going to start dying!"
Ben was still running but skidded almost to a stop as Gurra, the human hybrid with the silver eyes, vaulted up onto the shelves two units ahead of him, blaster raised. Ben dived into a somersault and came up kicking out hard. Gurra took the brunt of the kick straight to the diaphragm and dropped like a stone, wheezing. The blaster fell from his hand onto the packing crate and Ben instantly slashed at it with the 'saber blade, leaving two lumps of hot useless metal. Gurra lay at his feet, an enemy disarmed and defenceless. The best chance Ben had to even the score. To survive. Ben draw the 'saber back, flicking the blade in, ready to strike the final blow. The killing blow.
He froze. The man was lying there, helpless, but for all the threat that he posed, for all he might have hurt Ben in the past, and whatever diabolical plans they had in store….Ben couldn't strike the man down. Not like this. It wasn't right, it wasn't-
Crack.
Pain. Horrible, shocking pain all up his right leg and into his body. Something whipped around his ankle was yanked hard and he was falling, the 'saber dropping from spasming fingers. Bolts of pain flashed up through his muscles and joints, his nerves were like wildfire, and then he fell from the shelves and hit the ground.
The pain stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Ben rolled aside, gasping, in time to see the Zygerrian's sneering face as he coiled the long cord of the electrowhip back and cracked it in the air with a snarl of delight. Then the whip came lashing down towards Ben once more. Ben tumbled aside, throwing his hand out and calling the lightsaber to him, but too slow; the whip clipped his back in an agonising stripe. Then, the smooth metal of the lightsaber hilt smacked into his palm and the blade ignited. He got to his feet, somehow, slashed at the cord as the whip cracked in again but he couldn't cut it, couldn't even leave a mark; the cord must be made of some material that made it impervious the lightsaber blade. The Zygerrian cracked the whip again and again; Ben fought back, blocked each blow, threw himself into another somersault to avoid the electrified cord. But he was running out of time; he could hear shouts and running footsteps coming up the aisle between the shelves. He'd destroyed two of their blasters, he was sure, but if he had to face all four of the false Jedi he had no idea what the outcome would be. In desperation, he darted in, forcing his attacker back. The Zygerrian lashed the whip at Ben's face; the tip cracked a handbreadth from his eye and he dropped, sliding in under the Zygerrian's guard and bringing the lightsaber down with an inevitable smoothness.
The Zygerrian's hand, still clutching the whip handle, fell to the floor.
The injured enemy fell back with a scream, clutching his severed forearm. Ben didn't waste a moment in guilt but shoved past him and ran for the aisle. He could see the open carriage door ahead, only a few dozen metres away, but then someone slammed into his back. Hands grabbed his shoulders, arms like steel cords wrapped around his upper body and neck, and hauled him back. They hit the floor, Ben kicking wildly, trying to jab the lightsaber round behind him at the enemy holding him down.
"Get the 'saber!" Someone yelled, and both the woman and Gurra were there too, grabbing Ben's arms, twisting his wrist close to breaking. The blade was flashing between them, erratic bursts of blue fire; Ben's arms were trapped, someone was kicking him hard in the side, the arm around his neck was tightening, and…
The 'saber fell from his hand.
"BEN!"
He saw two figures in the distant doorway. Shaarm and Pakat with hands up at their mouths in horror. He heard an echo of Skywalker's voice: 'if there hadn't been kids in that house I would have burned it to the ground'. New strength surged through him. He rammed his head back hard, smashing it into Skywalker's face. Something went crack and the arms holding him loosened. He surged up, kicking out, punching hard and tore himself free. The 'saber hilt had rolled about metre away; Ben scrambled over, snatched it up, and then turned towards the door. He hurled the weapon as hard as he could, using the Force to guide it towards the Kheelians, still frozen in horror in the doorway.
"Shaarm!" Ben yelled. "The couplings..."
He saw her eyes widen; she reached out towards the flying lightsaber hilt, but Ben had to look away, rolling aside once more as a blaster bolt missed him by centimeters. The female bounty hunter was firing and now Ben couldn't deflect the shots, but he had a plan, he had to…
Skywalker was on his feet again, nose dripping blood and dark fury in his eyes.
"You-" he began, but Ben didn't wait to hear more. He crouched, snatched up handfuls of the spilled paint powder billowing across the aisle and dived forwards, hurling the paint into the false Jedi's eyes even as he called the Force to him, zeroing all his attention on the object in his enemy's fist. The other lightsaber. Skywalker stumbled back, his hands coming up. Ben reached out with the Force, pulled, and the 'saber tore itself from Skywalker's grasp and flew straight into Ben's own. It fit perfectly in his palm like it belonged there, comfortable and powerful and familiar and…
"This," Ben hissed at Skywalker, "is mine."
He turned and sprinted for the carriage door. Blaster bolts sparked around him and ahead he could see blue light burning in the doorway. Shaarm was wielding the other 'saber, slashing at the floor of the vestibule, hot metal and sparks flashing around her, as she worked to sever the couplings holding the two compartments together. The floor beneath Ben's feet gave a jolt, a warning siren started wailing and somewhere behind Shaarm he could hear Pakat yelling.
"She's nearly through, Ben! Run!"
There was an awful clunking sound, a distant screeching as of metal torn lose, and the entire carriage began to shake. The force of the train's speed had ripped all but two of the last cables in the couplings that Shaarm had started cutting and the goods car was tearing itself loose from the rest of the train.
"Ben!" Pakat yelled again as with a graunching scream, a great rift opened up in the flexiduct seal between the two doorways and the last carriage tore away, dragged along by the last two surviving connector cables. Daylight streamed in through the gap and the carriage shook and pitched. Ben shoved the 'saber into the front of his tunic, put on one last burst of speed, pushed away from his feet with the Force and leapt out through the door. He sailed over the void between the carriages, feeling the tearing winds drag at him, seeing blinding daylight, the nauseating rush of the blurred tracks passing far below, and then he was crashing to the floor in the safety of the vestibule. The Kheelians had backed up against the rear wall leaving an open space for his landing and Shaarm started to step forward, but then there was a yell and something slammed into Ben's back, forcing him to the floor. Gurra, the human hybrid, had leapt after him and they were both thrown across the vestibule floor. The false Jedi flipped over, lashing out hard with the blaster in his fist, catching Ben across the side of the head. Dazed, Ben tried to push himself up, but looked back as he heard Pakat shout in alarm once more, just audible over the blaring sirens and howling winds. Gurra's silver eyes darted up, zeroed in on the Kheelians and the blaster's barrel started to rise. Ben dived forwards, barrelling into the man, knocking him back away from the Kheelians towards the doorway. Then he leapt up into the air and kicked the man as hard as he could with both feet.
Gurra was thrown back; his flailing hands missed the edge of the door frame as he fell, and the howling winds dragged him straight down into the searing void between the carriages. Ben saw one last glimpse of terrified wide silver eyes and the man was ripped down into the gap and beneath the train.
There was a screech of tearing metal, a last judder shook through the train, and the final cable holding the goods carriage snapped. Ben watched through the door, numb with horror, as the carriage shook itself free from the train, dropping back down the track as the bulk of the train sped away. Clustered in the doorway of the stricken carriage were the false Jedi; the woman, the Zygerrian and, between them, the man who had called himself Skywalker stared back at Ben with hatred. The goods car quickly lost its momentum, growing smaller and smaller as the train thundered unstoppably on and away, leaving the stranded carriage and its bounty hunter cargo behind.
Before Ben, the door to the vestibule rebooted and slammed shut, cutting the scene off before his eyes. The siren fell silent.
"Ben," Shaarm whispered, from somewhere behind him.
And then, another sound. A blaster powering up, right behind his ear.
Ben turned around. There was Ditto the train guard, his teal skin pale with shock and horror, the shiny new blaster held out in both hands, with the barrel pointed directly at Ben.
"Don't move," The Twi'lek said. "Don't move. Ben Waken, I am placing you under arrest for murder."
TBC
A/N: I am so sorry for the unexpected hiatus! But I am not dead, and neither is this fic. It will be finished, come hell or high water.