Chapter Four

The recently dubbed Sith apprentice's mind teemed with hundreds of different scenarios. How would this Force sensitive assailant react to an attack? How much training does he or she have? He already knew that this person lacked real experienced in matters such as this, but he could only speculate very broadly on the level of martial training he or she had undergone.

"So, Jurn," Bide began. The cold touch of the blaster barrel on his neck shifted location to a lower point of his neck. He smirked. His assailant's arm was tiring; a female, perhaps. Or a young man. "How long have you and Kleen been working together?" The barrel pressed more firmly into Bide's neck.

"Alright, alright, relax. I'm not making any moves here—just talking." Bide knew he only had precious minutes before Kleen returned, and by then the chances of him getting out of the situation would drop significantly. He decided to go for the stereotypical Sith approach. "It's uncommon for Force sensitive beings to be able to shield their mind from intrusion without having prior training. Are you just naturally gifted, or did the Jedi give you the boot?"

"Shut up," Jurn spat. The voice was gruff and distorted.

"A voice modifier? You're really making an effort to conceal your identity. What've you got to hide?"

"I told you to shut up, damnit!" Bide reacted instantly as Jurn moved to bash his head with the barrel of the blaster. The moment the cold sensation on his neck lessened even the slightest bit, he dropped to a crouch and threw his weight forward onto his hands. As his weight shifted, he kicked his legs backwards, connecting with Jurn's knees; they buckled, and Jurn fell to the ground. Bide ripped the blaster away from Jurn with a telekinetic pull and called it to his own hand. He pointed it at the forehead of his assailant, who now kneeled helplessly before him, staring at the ground, head adorned with a concealing cloth.

Bide was about to address all the questions teeming in his mind when he felt a familiar presence begin to move towards them: Kleen was returning. "Sithspit," he swore, and as a result actually began to wonder if this was an appropriate swear word considering that he was now a Sith apprentice. He shook off this idle curiosity, however, and formulated a plan.

"Stand up," Bide ordered. Jurn looked up at Bide for a brief moment before complying. Bide then switched the blaster's safety on and removed the blaster pack, tossing the now useless weapon back to Jurn. "Go on, press it back against my neck, same as before," he commanded, turning around. He felt the cold sensation return as Kleen rounded the corner.

"Jurn! The Jedi are on their way now. They said they'd be here in ten minutes."

"Good. The sooner we get our money, the better," Jurn replied. Kleen didn't pick up on it, but Bide noticed how forced Jurn's words sounded: clearly, Jurn was contemplating whether to signal Kleen to the change in situation that occurred.

"Yeah, I'm with you there. Let's get him secured for when they arrive." Kleen removed a pair of stun cuffs from his back pocket, his hold-out blaster idle in his hand, and approached Bide.

Now.

Bide gathered the Force and sent a powerful wave of energy towards Kleen who, with no means to defend himself against such an attack, was sent flying down the alleyway. He slid along the rough ground and crashed into a pile of garbage. Kleen groaned, sitting up and rubbing his now spinning head. When he saw Bide, lightsaber hilt in hand, walking towards him, he discharged a barrage of bolts from his hold-out blaster. These bolts reflected harmlessly off Bide's crimson blade, ricocheting into the sides of the buildings surrounding them. The black market dealer dropped his weapon and held his hands up in surrender.

"P-please, don't kill me! It's just business! J-just business…!" he stammered.

Bide stood over him, lightsaber humming at his side, and extended his off-hand towards Kleen; he rose into the air, his arms and legs splayed out to the side. "Talk."

"W-well, I always do background checks on clients—for safety reasons, you know? When I checked up on your boss—er, master—I noticed that he had a particular interest in Sith artifacts. So I, uh, sent a few of my men after him, to test him, y'know? Well, they're… gone now, but the footage they got from the encounter survived. He handled a squad of handpicked soldiers without moving an inch! I was sure, then, that he was one of those dark Jedi fellas."

Bide couldn't help but smirk. An interesting oversight on Ja'neel's part. He was all for discreetness, but he let footage of him massacring some mercenaries be preserved? Perhaps he wasn't as meticulous with details as he appeared to be.

Kleen dropped to the ground and Bide turned back to Jurn, who hadn't moved a step since Kleen returned to the alley. He had to do something with the two of them—but what? He furrowed his brow. What would Ja'neel do? Well, he wouldn't have got himself into this situation in the first place. But if he was in this situation…

"Jurn, come over here," Bide said, waving Jurn over. Jurn complied without objection, and walked over to where Kleen sat motionless, fearing for his life. "Take off your mask," he ordered, angling his blade between the pair. Jurn hesitated, then unraveled the black cloth mask.

She was beautiful, even by Hapan standards. Her golden hair flowed down to the middle of her back, and her face was perfect in every aspect: high cheekbones, smooth white skin with a hint of pink at the cheeks, and full pink lips. Her eyes, a deep blue, softened the anger her arched eyebrows seemed to portray. Bide stared unwaveringly into her mystifying eyes as he plunged his humming blade into the center of Kleen's face. The pungent aroma of burnt flesh filled the air as the Jorb Kleen fell, dead, to the ground.

"He knew too much," Bide explained.

"You're going to have to kill me, then," Jurn stated defiantly.

"No, I won't. You're not nearly experienced enough for a thug like Kleen to trust with all the details. My guess? He only picked you because you have some training with your Force abilities. Probably thought it would come in handy when you tried to capture me."

"But we did capture you."

"Hardly. I was in your control for all of ten seconds. After that, you had no chance."

"I don't think you understand, Sith. Everything that happened was planned for. Kleen was just a pawn, a means to an end." Her perfect lips parted as she smiled. "Once I get the information I need from you, I am going to kill you. Then, when you're dead, I'll bring your mutilated body before your master, and then I'll kill him too!"

Bide could feel Jurn's anger spike in the Force when she mentioned Ja'neel. "Really, now? How are you planning on doing any of that?"

"Don't you worry about that—you should be worrying about how you're going to deal with them, for now," Jurn said, sounding utterly satisfied.

Bide turned around just in time to hear, "By the authority of the Jedi Order, you are under arrest," and see green and blue and yellow lightsabers come to life.

"Sithspit," he swore, and he wondered if he would ever be able to question the appropriateness of using that word again.