As he prepared to escape from his cell, overpower his guards, and hunt down the captain of a ship full of hostiles with no weapons and no clue as to where said captain was, Zekk reflected that he must have done something stupider at some point, though he couldn't think of it at the moment.
He'd kept himself open to the Force, and even though the lights in his small room never dimmed, he felt the ship's crew slowly lay down to rest as the craft switched its internal chrono to night-time. The two guards outside his door hadn't gone to sleep and hadn't been switched out, which was good, because it would leave them tired and easy to overtake.
So he hoped, anyway.
In case somebody was still watching him on a hidden camera, he began by getting off the bed and stretching. He performed normal exercises to limber his body out, carefully inching his way closer to the closed door. Finally, he feigned getting winded and slumped against the doorframe, pressing one flat palm against the door itself as though for support.
Growing up in the lower levels of Coruscant, he'd learned a natural sense of how mechanisms worked before he'd ever called them Force powers. He'd been able to sense the gears and levers that controlled rusted doors in abandoned buildings and locate weak points in sagging floors and walls that might collapse under his weight.
He'd also been pretty good at telekinesis.
So it wasn't very hard for him to find the mechan-isms inside this simple door that kept it locked, and pull those mechanisms apart.
Then he tore the door open.
It slid aside as smoothly as if it had been controlled automatically, and Zekk immediately dashed out into the hallway. He immediately spun to his right, grab-bing the gun-arm of the guard and pulling him forward, locking his other arm around the Rodian's neck. He choked the Rodian and pulled his body up as a shield so the second guard hesitated to pull his trigger. That was all Zekk needed to slam him back against the wall with the Force, knocking his head against the bulkhead and dropping him.
Zekk didn't let go of the Rodian; he kept the alien's neck in a vice-grip and waited for his body to go slack. Zekk knew roughly how long without air it would take for a human to pass out but not die; he didn't know how that worked for Rodians and he reached out with the Force, trying to sense when the alien passed out. He felt muddled panic radiating from the guard, but the panic died the same time the Rodian's green limbs stopped flailing and he dropped his pistol.
Zekk loosened his grip on the Rodian's neck but still held him up. He stretched further with the Force, trying to find some indication that alarmed troopers might be heading his way. He couldn't tell anything for sure, but he had the feeling someone might be approaching from the hallway's left entrance.
He didn't know if he had time to haul the guards into the room and close the door behind him, so he settled with dropping the Rodian to the floor and picking up both pistols. He checked to make sure both were set to stun, then stuck one in his baggy jumpsuit pocket and grasped the other in two hands. Then he ran to the right, all the way to the end, and spared just a second to reach out with the Force for any presence beyond the door- nothing- before hitting the wall panel and opening it.
Another dark hallway. He ran down it, looking for an access panel where he could at least look the ship's specifications, but there wasn't even that. Zekk sensed more anxiety behind him, possibly someone finding his unconscious crewmates, so he ran all the way to the far end of the corridor, stopping only at the side of another door marked Maintenance.
That, he decided, would do nicely. Maybe.
The door wasn't locked, but the room inside wasn't big either. Zekk ducked inside and closed the door behind him, then took in all the tangled machinery, the tubes of pure oxygen, the cooling rods, the bucket of steam bolts.
Then he looked up, saw the large ventilator grate, and smiled.
He felt a presence coming up the corridor outside, so he wasted no time. The ceiling grate was too high above for him to reach with his arms, but that didn't matter. He gave it one push with the Force, knocking it aside, the leaped straight up into the vent. He was a big man, and he was just barely able to squeeze his shoulders diagonally through the opening. He immediately pulled the rest of his body into the air conduit; it was a tight fit and he bit back groans as he folded his legs against his chest as he straightened himself out.
Turning around in here was going to be next to impossible, so one he found a direction in which to go he'd have to stick with it.
Unfortunately, there was no time to choose. He felt that presence outside the door and immediately called on the Force one last time to drop the grid in place. He crawled a good two meters down the duct, enough to get all of him out of view, and listened as the door slid open and someone walked in. He held his breath and listened, listened, but heard nothing. Finally the door slid shut again.
For a second he considered trying to ambush the being who'd been looking for him, for every crewman he attacked it just increased the risk he'd be reported or captured, so he resigned himself to shuffling through the duct as slowly and carefully as possible.
He did the best he could to move along, but the hard metal sides of the duct kept pressing his wide shoulders together. He didn't know how far he crawled before he found himself over another grate, but he got there eventually. As he peered down through the metal slats he saw the dim light of a computer console shining alone in a dark room. He stretched out with the Force again, found no one beneath, and decided this was pretty much what he'd been looking for.
Removing the grate wasn't hard, but dropping down was. It would be too awkward to shuffle around then try to lower himself feet-first, so he resigned himself to doing things the also-awkward way.
As he dropped head-and-hands-first onto the floor of the dark chamber, he found himself really wishing he was Jaina-sized. Crawling through ducts would be a lot easier then.
At least he didn't hit anything hard when he landed on the uncarpeted floor. Zekk scrambled to his feet and fumbled for a light switch. He found it on the wall next to the door, and for a second the bright light blinded him. When he pried his eyelids open again he found himself looking at what was probably a small auxiliary communications room.
His heart lifted. He might even try to call the Jedi for help, assuming he could figure out where he was. He sat down in front of the computer console and began accessing its primary database.
He learned a lot in a very short time. Apparently they were in hyperspace, flying Coreward down the Perlemian, and when he accessed the schematics he found that he was aboard a Corellian Engineering Corp Ranger-class gunship.
That could mean anything. Rangers had primarily been produced for the New Republic navy in the years before the Yuuzhan Vong War, but since then they'd found themselves re-sold to local defense fleets, even smugglers and privateers who liked small, fast, well-armed capital ships.
That didn't matter, though. What mattered was that, thanks to the schematic, he was able to locate his location, the location of the captain's personal cabin, and how to get from one to the other.
It looked like the ventilation system was actually his best bet, awkward as it was; certainly he had the least chance of being spotted. He hesitated before going back up; he could still try the access the comm systems and send a message to the Jedi, and frankly he doubted he'd get another opportunity. So he brought up the comm system and brought up the option to send a long-range transmission, only to find himself with a request for authorization screen.
He swore and wondered if it was worth try to force his way through. Probably not; he'd just run the risk of alerting the crew to his location. Still, he hesitated; if he didn't contact the Jedi now, he'd probably not get another chance.
The computer decided for him. The authorization screen was replaced by a flashing red one saying Unauthorized Access Attempted! Security Alert!
Yes, that pretty much settled things.
Zekk hurled himself up into the vent and awkwardly pulled his legs through. He used the Force to settle the grate where it was supposed to belong just in time to hear the door open beneath him.
He tried to crawl his way through the duct as quietly as he could, and he could hear voices behind him, saying, "He was just here! I know it!"
"He wasn't in the hallway. What about the vents?"
"I don't see him."
"We have to assume he went up there."
"Then how do we stop him? He could be anywhere?"
"He can't have gone far. Come on, we'll find him."
Zekk bit back yet another swear as the two beings slipped out of the room and out of earshot. He crawled along faster now, no longer caring about the noise; he needed to reach the maintenance shaft not far ahead. Then he could climb his way up to the level with the captain's quarters.
Assuming the captain was actually in his quarters, which he very likely would not be if there was an emergency on the ship.
Well, maybe the captain would have something valuable Zekk could hold hostage.
He got to the shaft successfully without being caught; from there, it was a long way up and and long way down. There were ladder-rungs on one side that he could climb up, but the shaft itself was bigger than the air ducts and he was pretty sure he could use the Force to accelerate his ascent, hopefully enough to confuse the crew trying to find him.
He closed his eyes, concentrated, and drew on the Force to pull him upward. He still grabbed hold of ladder-rungs with his hands, pushing himself higher with each touch and using the Force to pull him up even higher. He made his way up to the third-highest level and stopped. There was a porthole that would let him out into a hallway, assuming he'd read the schematics right, and he reached out with the Force to sense anyone waiting for him on that end.
Nothing.
He opened the hatch manually and rolled into the dim hallway. He snapped to his feet and brought his pistol up, checking one more time to make sure it was still set to stun. He followed the forking paths toward where the schematic said the captain's cabin would be, one turn after another-
-and then a laser sizzled over his head. He ducked and spun around the hallway corner, peeked his head out low, then darted back under cover just before a blue laser blast nearly caught him in the face.
Well, at least they were using stun blasts too. Still, he really wished he had his lightsaber right now.
Zekk popped a few stun bolts down the hall to ward off pursuit, then sprinted down the hall. He knew he was just a few turns away from the captain's room, and he hung a sharp right, hoping he'd be in the clear-
-and instead another volley of stun blasts nearly got him. He ducked back into the other hallway, knowing full well they just about had him trapped. He peeked around the corner against and saw just one enemy shooting at him. He fired, ducked back, waited for a few more shots to whip past his corner, then dared stick his head out again.
This time he spotted the gunman as he took aim. Zekk reached out with the Force and grabbed the man's gun, twisting it in his hand, pivoting it so it spun around to point its barrel in the face of the shooter.
The man crumpled under the blast of his own gun. Zekk turned the corner and charged down the corridor just as his pursuer was catching up. He knew he was just one dash away from the captain's cabin, and he made the final turn fully expecting there to be at least one more guard waiting for him.
Sure enough, there was. The guard, though, wasn't expecting Zekk to jump high in the air and use the Force to swing himself around the corner so he slammed into the Nikto, foots smashing face, and knocked him to the deck.
Zekk pumped one stun shot into his gut to be sure, then threw himself against the door to the captain's cabin. More guards would be here any minute and he reached out with the Force, felt the locks and mechan-isms of the door, felt the empty room inside.
Well, hopefully the captain had an art collection inside he'd really want to negotiate over.
Zekk found the locks, flipped them open, and pulled the door to the side. Stun blasts lanced past his back as he slipped through the opening, then slid the door shut behind him and latched the locks tightly into place. Then, for good measure, he snapped the mechanisms, sealing himself safely inside.
He breathed a sigh of relief, then turned around.
A man was in the middle of the room, staring at him.
Zekk snapped his pistol up and pointed it at the man's chest. He was human, tall, at the point in middle age where his midsection was getting thick and bits of gray streaked through his red-brown hair and beard. His eyes were a blue-gray, and they were curious rather than frightened.
Zekk stretched out with the Force to feel the captain's intentions. He couldn't sense him at all.
"Who are you?" he snapped. "What are you?"
The man sighed and raised his hands in the air. "I'm impressed. You know, deep down I think I wanted you to try to escape. I've heard so much about you Jedi but I've never seen one in action. To get this far, you've lived up to your reputation. By the way, did you kill any of my crew?"
"No. And I won't kill you, not if you don't make me."
"Hmmm. Do you have your word, as a Jedi?"
"Of course. I don't kill anyone unless I have to. I promise."
"All right, then. I'll hold you to that, Jedi."
"Are you this ship's captain?"
"Evan Praelyx of the Wayward Soldier, if you were wondering." His lips slanted in a grin. "Come on, Jedi. Go ahead and ask. I'm sure you're dying to know."
Even though he had the blaster in his hand, Zekk was getting increasingly convinced that he wasn't the one in charge of this conversation. He half-stuttered out, "Why can't I feel you in the Force?"
"Well, there's only a few possible explanations for that," Praelyx said easily.
"Are you a human replica droid?" Zekk asked, dreading and disbelieving any other option.
Praelyx shook his head. "It would be best just to show you, but first, I want to remind you of the promise you made a minute ago."
Zekk nodded, tightened his grip on the pistol, and braced himself. Praelyx reached one hand to the back of his head, down to the base of his neck, where Zekk couldn't see it. Then a straight line appeared down the middle of his face. Then his face itself seemed to peel apart, skin and hair retreating to the sides of his head before slinking down beneath the collar of his loose cloak.
The face beneath the face had a sloping forehead, no nostrils, thin lips bearing jagged teeth, and dark-gray skin pocked by curling tattoos and a few old scars.
It had been a very long time since Zekk had stood face-to-face with a Yuuzhan Vong, but it hadn't been long enough.
"So," the creature said, deadpan, "You probably have questions."
The voice was the same perfect accent-less Basic that had come from the red-bearded human's mouth. That only made things more surreal. The first thing to come from Zekk's mouth was, "Your crew, do they know?"
"All my officers do, yes."
"And this ship, the…."
"Wayward Soldier."
"What is it? Are you pirates? Privateers? Mercenaries?"
"We've been all three over the years." The Yuuzhan Vong walked casually over to the nearest sofa and sat down.
For the first time Zekk looked at the room around him. He noticed a few collectibles: a gilt-framed mirror on one wall, some Mon Cal art sculpture on another. And there was the sofa, a chair, a holo-projector, a table and a kitchen. It was all appallingly normal.
"Have you been running around like this since the end of the war? For ten years?"
"More or less." The Yuuzhan Vong crossed one leg over the other and leaned back on his sofa. "I became Evan Praelyx after my ship crashed on the planet Nar Haaska."
"Hutt space?" Zekk sidestepped to look at the Vong head-on but didn't lower his pistol.
"Oh, yes," the creature nodded casually. "The Hutts put up a much better fight that was expected. The point is, my ship crashed, and I was the only survivor. Thankfully I had an ooglith masquer on me, and I was able to blend in with all the other mercenaries the Hutts had hired to defend their territory."
"And you've been wearing this masquer for over a decade?"
"Not the same, but there are still worlds in this galaxy where Yuuzhan Vong life thrives. Even ones where masquers grow."
"You want me to believe you just slapped on a masquer and became a whole new being? No thanks, I'm not buying it. I know what you people are. You killed so many friends I lost count. You're fanatics, you're-"
The Vong waved a hand dismissively. "Butchers, monsters, I know. But that was a long time ago."
"You're trying to tell me, what, a Vong can change?"
"You can clearly see I have. And to be frank, by the time I crashed on Nar Haaska my…. faith had begun to waver."
He spoke so plainly, so casually, like the rough-edged mercenary spacer he claimed to be. Zekk lowered his weapon a little bit and asked, "What were you before, really? What caste were you?"
"I was an intendant. If you're truly curious, my name was Yoshak Skell, though I doubt you've heard of me. I was never… important."
"I'm finding it kind of hard to imagine. Okay, maybe you weren't a warrior or a priest, but I still can't think of many Vong who'd just walk away from everything like that."
"You're right. That's why they lost the war."
He lowered his pistol a little more. "They? Not we?"
Praelyx, or Yoshak Skell or whatever he was, heaved a very human sigh. "If I truly considered myself Yuuzhan Vong I would have joined them in exile on Zonama Sekot. As you can see, I haven't, just like I haven't launched myself into a one-man campaign against the complacent infidels.
"The intendant caste always had to deal with the dirty underside of managing an empire, even more than the Workers and the Shamed, because we worked in the places were ideals of the Gods clashed with the real universe."
Zekk's thoughts flashed back to Nom Anor, who'd harassed the strike team at Myrkr and helped Vergere captain Jacen. Nom Anor had been an intendant, and by all accounts an agnostic one loyal only to himself who, after falling from grace, had made himself prophet for the Vong's shamed under-castes, in effect bringing down his own civilization through his self-serving schemes. In the last battle of the war he'd even sided with the Jedi- again for his own selfish reasons.
Still, Zekk found Evan Praelyx hard to believe.
"So, you don't believe in your gods? Not Yun-Yammka, Yun-Yuuzhan, Yun-Harla?"
"Perhaps they do exist, but if they do, they clearly haven't thought to punish me for abandoning them."
This whole conversation bordered on the surreal, but as he looked around at this so-ordinary cabin, Zekk found he had no choice but to believe it. He lowered his pistol and remembered what he'd come to ask in the first place.
"Why did you capture me? Why am I here?"
"We were hiding in the Transitory Mists, watching the battle, hoping we could gleam some information, maybe, or recover some ships for scrap."
"You're scavengers."
"Waste not, want not, Jedi. But when we went sifting through the debris right after the battle we found you. At first you didn't look like much, but then Harn peeled you out of your flight suit and found that light-saber of yours."
"Where is it?"
"Nowhere you can get to. The point is, once we learned we had a Jedi onboard, well, then we had to decide what to do with you."
"You don't get to decide. I get to decide." He raised the pistol again. "Let me off this ship so I can get back to the Jedi. If you want, I'll give you my word that I won't tell anyone where I was or who you are."
"Hmmmm… You know, I would consider your offer, but I just got a better one earlier today."
"What? What offer?"
"A job offer. Wayward Soldier has a new mission, and just before I get it, a Jedi drops into my lap." The Yuuzhan Vong grinned. "Perhaps the gods smile on me after all."
What kind of job?" Zekk growled and wagged his pistol, though it felt increasingly useless in his hand.
"The good old-fashioned kind that got me this ship in the first place. Piracy."
"And what are you going to pirate?"
Praelyx leaned forward and grinned a toothy Yuuzhan Vong grin. "The real question, Jedi, is from whom. The answer, as it turns out, it another old enemy of your kind."
"What do you mean?"
"You can't guess? We're going to break into a star destroyer and steal from the Empire. And you're going to help us."
Zekk stared. His jaw went slack. His weapon, forgotten, fell to his side.
"Yes," smiled Praelyx, "You are."