Chapter 23
I would like to thank my reviewers, those who added my story to their alerts and favorites, and to all anonymous readers.
It was a while since I updated. To make it up to you I made a long chapter, at around 5500 words.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or Prototype.
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Jon Fevrau squinted his eyes as he stepped off the freighter, coping against the bright star surrounded by an ocean of blue. The heat was common here on Zygerria, this jungle world rarely had strong winds or heavy rain. Only in the Highlands would one find cooler climates, sparse with plant life and filled with natural pillar formations. He took in the city, and it clearly held up to its reputation of being a tropical paradise, at least for those without collars. The Zygerrians dealt primarily with the acquiring and training of slaves, a trade which had made them powerful enough to create an empire. With that in mind, it was no surprise that he saw more beings with collars than without. He had heard of them, of course. But he had not seen them in use, something he hoped to rectify today.
"Mr Fevrau," a figure called out over the landing pad, walking up to greet him. "I am Torm, the Prime Ministers advisor. Welcome to Zygerria."
"Thank you," Jon said, quickly scanning the surrounding area. "I had thought your Prime Minister would have come himself."
Jon observed the man's right ear quivered for a second, reacting to a nearby sound, giving him a small opportunity to really scan the man. Torms had the typical feline appearance as all Zygerrians do, his entire face and ears covered with purple fur. His gaze was direct and cold. A second later however it was gone, replaced by a gentle smile of politeness.
"The Prime Minister apologizes for not coming to greet you personally," Torm finally said as the commotion in the distant disappeared, "if you follow me I'll take you to him immediately."
A short distance from the spaceport was a small landing pad. A stream of hovercabs was landing and taking off, the preferred way for the lowest members of society to traverse the city. A thick crowd surrounded the base of the landing pad, with several more joining the queues for a driver. A few Zygerrians in the crowd cast sharp glances at Torm as he forced a path through, Jon briefly wondered if their anger was directed at Torm for his privileges or if they had some deeper meaning.
He removed the thought from his mind as they climbed into the waiting speeder, Torm at the controls. Jon settled into the luxurious seat, pleased to note that the vehicle did have a roof. The engines engaged, and they rose a few meters before accelerating away. They rode in silence, drawing closer to the heart of the city, the Royal Palace at the center. Close enough now, that he could see its lavish design and numerous guards. But Jon knew this was not their destination. The Prime Minister had arranged for a meeting inside his own abode which he maintained in the outskirts of the city. Nothing strange about it, Jon fully expected the Prime Minister to only see him, a new client, in the safety of his own stronghold, surrounded by his most trusted staff.
It was not an act of cowardice, for he knew no Zygerrian noble would ever feel such a thing, it was simply a matter of practicality. One does not rise to the rank of Prime Minister without creating a few enemies. They passed by the Royal Palace and made their way to the eastern side of the city. Several more minutes passed by before Jon felt the speeder begin to slow as Torm brought it in for landing.
"We've arrived," Torm said as the vehicle touched down.
They were in a large open courtyard. High stone walls stood to the north and south. The east end was open to the street; the west was bordered by what Jon assumed to be the Prime Minister's stronghold. Jon couldn't help but see a resemblance to the Royal Palace, only in a smaller scale. The courtyard itself was populated by half a dozen large statues, each several meters wide at the base and easily twice as tall as Jon. The two largest were of Zygerrians in royal robes, with several slaves in the process of cleaning them. Jon did not know much about Zygerria, but he knew none of them were of the current King.
Torm exited the vehicle first and walked around to the front. Jon stepped out of the vehicle and into the sunlight, which didn't bother him as much anymore.
"This way, Mr Fevrau." Torm said, heading down the path.
Jon followed him in silence, noticing the almost perfect posture Torms held. With his shoulders back and his neck exposed, a fitting posture for someone of his stature. His gut feeling told him something was off about Torm, but the meeting with the Prime Minister occupied his mind. This meeting was of outmost importance for his Master's plans, and for his own.
As Torm led the way through the halls of the stronghold, Jon did his best to not look too impressed with the interior architecture. A series of long, wide corridors with thick stone walls, vaulted ceilings, and countless imposing steel doors, all closed to hide the rooms behind. The halls were lavishly decorated in a variety of purple colors. Expensive woven rugs covered the floors, and the walls were lined with a collection of sculptures and holoprojectors.
Torm set a quick pace, giving Jon little time to study the works. However, the man did offer a walking commentary of the significant pieces as the marched.
"This holoprojection was a gift from the King as a token of appreciation for the Prime Minister's long service to the crown."
"This portrait commemorates the battle of…"
Jon tuned it out, realizing he wouldn't get any useful information from the man's descriptions. Still, he appreciated the display of art. An interest he had not indulged in since his service to Zeus. Numerous sentries stood guard throughout the halls. The nodded in acknowledgement as Torm passed them. He rounded another corner and the hall came to a dead end against another steel door, this one with two guards.
Torm stepped forward and whispered something to the guards before gently rapping his knuckles on the door. The door opened to reveal a young Twi'lek. She was clad in a revealing brown outfit and had a shock collar fastened securely around her neck. She bowed and moved out of their way as they moved over the threshold. The room, well-lit by sunlight from the many windows, appeared to be an office. The walls bare, with light-brown stone. In the center of the room were a table surrounded by plushy furniture. Beyond was the man he came to see, sitting behind a desk writing on a piece of durasheet.
"My Lord," Torm began. "May I introduce Jon Fevrau."
The man looked up, pushed himself away from the desk, rose from his chair, and walked over to them.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." He gave Torm an annoyed look. "That will be all, Torm."
"As you wish." Torm bowed slightly to both of them and disappeared through the massive steel doors.
As the doors closed he continued. "I hope Torm haven't told you anything bad about me."
"He has done nothing of the sort."
The man snorted. "That's a first, he never miss an opportunity to talk behind my back."
"I was of the impression he's you're advisor?" Jon asked, "Don't you trust him?"
"Of course not." The man stated, voice full of contempt. "The only reason he's my advisor is so I can keep my eye on him."
"But where are my manners," he continued, extending a hand. "Edor Magre."
Jon met him and shook firmly. "You already know my name."
"Indeed," Edor mused, waving towards the middle area. "Please, take a seat."
Jon took a seat to the right, with Edor on the opposite side. Edor held a close resemblance to Torm, Jon noticed, only time had taken its toll. Them being relatives had not been a too farfetched idea, the facial likeness was clear.
"Let's get to business, shall we?" Edor leaned back into his seat, making himself comfortable. "You weren't very forthcoming when you contacted us."
"It's not a matter one wants to speak about on a holotransmission," Jon stated calmly. "even with the best of decryption."
Edor chuckled. "True, but you do want slaves?"
"Yes, only I have some inquiries first." Jon paused, diverting his gaze to the Twi'lek by the door. "Your collars. How do they work?"
"It's quite simple really." Turning his attention to his wrist console, Edor pressed a button and the Twi'lek began to spasm. "Should one of them get out of place, I simply push a button and the collar sends a high-powered shock through their bodies."
The girl fell to her knees, breathing heavily and keeping her gaze looked onto the ground. She remained in that position until she was ordered to get refreshments, the girl never raised her gaze as she exited the room. Jon felt intrigued by the technology, but to almost shock someone to death simply to make a demonstration just showed what kind of people he was dealing with. It was no wonder Zeus sent him here, they were so alike, him and the Zygerrians. Despite his dislike of it all, what Zeus wants Zeus gets.
"It seems you've trained them well." Jon finally said, "She didn't even scream."
"All merchandise passes through our processing facility," Edor revealed, smiling. "They either learn, or die."
Jon nodded, lips pursing to prevent him from speaking his mind. Instead, he decided to get on with the negotiation.
"I take it you have other merchandise than Twi'leks?"
"We do," Edor began. "Perhaps if you tell me your reason for purchasing, I might be able to accommodate you better."
Jon adopted a more professional posture. "Manual labor. In other words, I have no interest in Twi'leks."
"Then what you need is Quarrens, Chromans or Mustafarians." Said Edor, as a matter of fact. "We happen to have the latter."
"I'll also need someone to… motivate them."
"Gamorreans are good for keeping them in check." Edor traced his jaw-line. "Not too bright though."
"Let's talk numbers," said Jon, tone neutral. "We can start with, say… 3000."
Edor practically jumped out of his seat, "Out of the question, we can't sell that many."
"You must have at least triple that." Jon noted.
"Yes, but we need them." He paused for a few seconds. "The best I can do is a 1000."
Jon leaned forward. "If you can't provide what I need, then perhaps your competitors will."
Edor flinched; he would not willingly let his rivals grow stronger. "Fine! 2000 and no more."
"Acceptable." Concluding the deal with a handshake, Jon let himself relax into his seat. He had done what he set out to do; now the process of transporting his new property could begin. First, however, he would need to buy new vessels. ProtoCorp have several available, but the chance of someone finding out their gone was too great. Jon let a smile form, despite this minor inconvenience, things were finally looking up.
"Let's celebrate with a drink." Edor tapped gently on his wrist-console and a minute later the same Twi'lek as before entered the room carrying a plate. The girl walked over and put it down on the table, pouring two glasses before leaving the room once more. Edor took the glass to his lips, tasting the exquisite wine carefully before swallowing.
Jon took his time, twirling the glass and taking in the smell. The color had a brown tint to its red base; he couldn't wait to taste it. But he never did, something was wrong. On the opposite side of the table, Edor lied in his seat clutching his throat. Jon threw the glass away, the conclusion was clear. Someone tried to poison them. He jumped out of his seat and vaulted to the other side, turning over the table as a result.
"No no no you can't die now." He muttered.
He might despise slavery, and had the circumstances been different, he would probably let the man die.
Now, however, he needed this man to live.
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Voren stared at the ground before him as he followed Zaalbar towards the village. He considered himself a man of honor even before becoming a Jedi, a man of righteousness who stood out from the rest. But there was no honor in butchering people, and now Voren knew there was darkness in him that would consume him should he let it. Getting swept up in the moment had felt so good, giving him focus and strength he didn't knew existed. As it happened, everything felt natural. His enemies lied before him; he had shown them the error of their slavering ways. The galaxy was at his fingertips and no one could stand against him. When the high died down, however, there was nothing left to move him forward. He felt hollow, like an engine running on too little gas. His center, a core of light, was now forever stained.
"Don't feel too bad about what you did," Alex said, giving him a reassuring look. "It had to be done."
Voren shook his head. "I'm a Jedi. I'm better than that."
"Apparently not," Alex stated as a matter of fact. "If you had, they would now be alive and free to continue with their abuse of slaves."
"It's not the Jedi way."
His reaction was one Alex had anticipated, and with the outmost sincerity he said. "Then perhaps the Jedi are wrong."
Voren knew he should retort and explain how the Jedi have protected the Republic for thousands of years, and that peace exists because of them. But now that he thought about it, did peace really exist? The Empire was still there, slavery was still allowed and there was always a war going on somewhere in the galaxy. Although considering that, the Jedi were a symbol of good. But perhaps there was some merit to Alex's words; still, he'd never admit that to his face.
The only one he could talk to about this was Bastila, she could relate to the danger and effects of the dark side, if he didn't have to sit through a lot of nagging he might have sought out her counsel when they returned to the ship. No, this was something he had to sort through himself. Bastila was a good Jedi, just not a good teacher.
Their march continued in silence from there on, within ten minutes they arrived at a giant wicker gate. Four Wookiee guards were posted outside the gate, readying their weapons as the group neared.
"Rwookrrorro," Zaalbar informed quietly, voice filled with dread. "My home."
Two guards moved towards them, halting their movements with a wave of their massive paws.
"Stop where you are outsider," One of them growled. "You enter the domain of Chuundar, chieftain and leader!"
Mustering his courage, Zaalbar answered. "Stand aside! This human is with me and I want access to the home of my people!"
"You have no rights here, mad-claw!" the guard snarled. "This human should not have brought this taint upon our land! You must answer to Chuundar!"
"Let's tone down the insults, shall we?" Voren suggested, trying to calm the situation. "We seek an audience with your leader."
Ignoring his words, the guard continued to address Zaalbar. "You are nameless with dishonor, mad-claw. Yours is a foulness that disgusts me!"
"But..."
"Enough talk!" the guard ordered. "You and the outcast mad-claw will be taken to Chuundar now!"
Seeing no other option than a full-out assault, Voren ordered the group to comply. The giant wicker gate opened slowly, revealing the city before them. Primitive-looking huts lined the edges of Rwookrrorro's streets. They stepped through the gate, but they now numbered three. Two guards stood firmly in front of Alex, refusing to let him in.
"What's the meaning of this?" Voren asked.
"He smells wrong." The guard growled, wrinkling his sensitive nose. "As walking dead. He will not be allowed to see the mighty Chuundar."
"It's fine." Alex assured, addressing the group. "I'll wait for you outside."
Voren managed a quick nod before Alex disappeared behind the closing gate. This was one situation he actually wanted him to be present if their meeting with Chuundar turned sideways, at the same time he trusted that Zaalbar and Canderous would be enough.
"Does he smell like death?" He asked Zaalbar as they were led further in.
"Yes."
"Why haven't you said anything?"
"You never asked." He growled.
The guard led them along a twisting path to a large cottage at the top of the city. Its architecture was surprisingly fine compared to the rest and it being placed above all the others spoke of its importance and status. The guards kept them under close watch, but refrained from taking their weapons. Perhaps they thought there was no reason too, if so, Voren would make sure to take advantage of it when the time was right. The room was well-lit and many trophies hung on the expensively paneled walls, no doubt a place fit for a Chieftain.
Human Czerka employees were stationed around the room along with Wookiee guards, in the middle stood the man himself. Chuundar, unlike the other Wookiees present, had dark-grey fur instead of the typical brown. His yellow eyes narrowed as the group entered, but he remained silent. Zaalbar was pushed forward and placed in the corner beside the chieftain, who didn't even acknowledge him.
"Step forward and address mighty and wise Chuundar, outsider." He finally growled. "I don't often allow visitors of your kind."
Great, he talks in third-person. Voren thought.
"You are flanked by Czerka slavers!" Zaalbar growled, gesturing around the room. "Are they not outsiders? Or have you sold all of Kashyyyk to them!"
"Ah, brother Zaalbar." Chuundar began, condescendingly. "You've been exiled a long time. You shouldn't speak in that tone. Things are different now. You are mad-claw without honor. You have no voice among your own people." He flashed a grin. "I, on the other hand, am Chieftain."
Voren shook his head. "There's no honor in slavery, and if your people knew what you're really doing, they would turn on you."
"You may talk," he suggested, "but no one will believe you. I've had a long time to guide what my people think. They trust me, the mighty Chuundar." Swinging his arms determinedly, he continued. "Even with my brother insane and my father enslaved, I rose to protect me people despite it all."
Voren felt it, rising from deep within, the same sensation as when he killed those slavers not one hour ago. It would be so easy to let it lose and turn it towards his enemies, but now was not the time. He forced it down, just bubbling under the surface, until he found someone who could challenge Chuundar for the title of Chieftain.
"Father was enslaved?" Zaalbar asked, brows drawing together. "'Mighty Chuundar'? What are you talking about? You were the runt!"
"I am no runt!" Chuundar growled, gritting his teeth. "Like I said, Zaalbar, a lot has changed in your years away. We will discuss this soon enough."
Canderous cleared his throat, preparing to let his presence be known. "Stop dilly dallying and get to the point."
Chuundar growled in annoyance, having to deal with one outsider was enough. "I haven't killed Zaalbar because he is my brother, and I hoped he and I could come to an agreement. You on the other hand, are irrelevant. However, I might be able to put you to use on a menial task. Zaalbar will stay here, of course."
So that's his game, Voren thought. To use Zaalbar as leverage, to make me comply in whatever twisted task he has.
"Fine then, tell me."
"A simple task," Chuundar noted, tone indifferent. "Another Wookiee has suffered the same fate as Zaalbar, gone mad and been exiled. He now lurks the Shadowlands. More importantly, he's pestering my Czerka allies during their Shadowland expeditions. It is not good for business."
He's standing against you. The first of many, perhaps? An interesting turn of events, this mad-claw in the Shadowlands might be what he needs to influence the people to fight back. Voren scanned the room, noting the amount of guards and filing it away for later. He'd make sure to be here and take on Chuundar himself when the time was right.
"You want me to take care of him? Fine, I'll do it."
"Of course you will," Chuundar stated smugly. "You will track and kill this insane Wookiee, and maybe then you will earn my favor. Zaalbar stays here to ensure your loyalty. Czerka would never let me hold you, but they don't care what I do with a fellow Wookiee."
Voren had to think back on every Jedi calming technique he knew to stop him from gutting Chuundar then and there with his lightsaber. He truly was one of the most vile beings he'd ever encountered.
"The guards will let you pass now," Chuundar continued, "Leave the village through the northwest and follow the platform south. You'll eventually see where Gorwooken waits you. He'll lower you to the forest floor."
Voren turned to his Wookiee friend. "Don't worry Zaalbar. We'll be back soon."
With those last words, they were escorted back to the main gate.
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Being denied access to the Wookiee village actually worked in his favor, that way he didn't have to stand in the back listening to a conversation without interest. Although, standing alone against the railing enveloping the platform, watching the seemingly endless drop to the forest floor, was not that interesting either. The news that Wookiees could discern a smell from him that he could not was new; they all seemed like large buffoons with no characteristic to his liking. Now, however, he felt the urge to taste that ability for himself. The only thing standing in his way, was finding a suitable victim. Anyone would do really, as long as they were alone.
"Alex Mercer, I presume?"
The voice originated from his right, spoken in a language he recognized as Rodese. As such, it was not a surprise that the voice belonged to a Rodian. Like all Rodians, he was quite short and possessed deep black eyes. The man's light-green reptilian skin created a good camouflage against the nearby vegetation, his tapir-like snout twitched slightly when not receiving an answer immediately.
"Strange to see a Rodian out here," Alex mused, turning fully to face the Rodian. "Although your species is obsessed with violence and death, Kashyyyk would be a fitting place for your kind."
"These are strange times." The Rodian said flatly. "The Sith and the Republic battle to control the galaxy, but their war destroys what they both seek to possess. The war sows fear and confusion, people are lost. They want guidance, direction. They have questions, and they want answers." He paused, observing the surroundings. "That is why I am here… I too seek answers."
"An answer requires a question first. Here's one, who are you?"
"A name? There is power in names, yet in the end a name alone means less than nothing. I am Hulas, a traveler from the world of Duro. And you are Alex Mercer." Once more he paused and glanced back and forth. "I waited until you were alone, for when you were with others I would not have spoken to you of these things."
Alex nodded in understanding; he understood the need for caution and secrecy better than most.
"I am Hulas of the Genoharadan… a secret society of bounty hunters. For a thousand generations we have existed, but always hidden beneath an impenetrable veil."
"Genoharadan," Alex tasted the word on his tongue, "Never heard of it."
"Few ever have." Hulas said, waving his hand in dismissal. "We are shadow, darkness and night. We are less than a whisper or a thought. We have managed to keep our existence a secret far longer than most could ever imagine. If you are ever foolish enough to tell anyone about this meeting or the Genoharadan's existence, they would not believe you. They would probably think you were paranoid, or mentally unstable."
"Not even those closest to you can know we have approached you," Warned Hulas, his tone sincere. "I will not discuss the Genoharadan with anyone but you. Do you understand?"
"I understand." Alex wasn't a fool, the less the others knew about his dealings the better.
"Just remember this: if you ever betray us, this opportunity will be lost forever. Few among the galaxy have ever heard of the Genoharadan. They never see us, never know we are there. They do not even know we exist. If you do now follow our rules, we will vanish and you will be like all the others. You will never see us again. We will be nothing but a figment of your imagination. But if you swear to keep the secrets of our order, you will learn of a forbidden society known only to a handful throughout the galaxy."
Alex held in a snort, the Rodian would like him to see the Genoharadan as some powerful mysterious force controlling events in the shadows. But all he had seen so far was pretty words for a common assassin's organization. Still, even if they were common assassins, he could have use of them.
"I'll keep your secret."
"Excellent!" Hulas burst out, causing his saucer-shaped antennae to vibrate. "We have high hopes for you within the guild… if you prove yourself worthy." Leaning closer, he continued. "Listen closely and I will give you a first glimpse into our secret world. We are an ancient guild of elite bounty hunters. For thousands of years we have been at work throughout the galaxy, eliminating our targets in near total secrecy."
"If you're so obscured, how do you get clients?" Alex asked.
Hulas took a deep breath. "In the highest corridors of power a handful of people know we exist, and how to contact us. Of course, these people are smart enough to keep this knowledge a carefully guarded secret. On rare occasions, when we are seeking new clients, one of our guild-masters will approach a powerful political figure and offer our services when the time is ripe."
"In other words," Alex began, "you make political assassinations look like accidents. And you want me to kill for you."
"By killing Calo Nord, you have shown you have great potential. The Genoharadan could use someone like you, if you are willing."
Alex raised a brow. If they knew he killed Calo then they might actually be genuine, not many people know that. This piece of information caused his interest to rise greatly; Hulas could be a fine addition to his plans. He decided then and there to see where this road leads.
"I accept your invitation."
"As you can imagine," Hulas half-whispered. "joining the Genoharadan is not a simple process. To begin, we will need proof of your loyalty and your competence."
"Get on with it then," Alex said, with a sharpened tone.
"Let's begin. You first mission is to eliminate a man named Rulan." Hulas informed, eyes darting left and right. "We don't know much about him, except that he's some kind of shapeshifter. We don't know if it's a natural ability, or the result of some kind of advanced technology."
Another shapeshifter? Alex thought, this could be an interesting hunt.
"We suspect he might decide to move his operations into the galactic core. With his ability to assume virtually any identity, he could wreak havoc on the Galactic Senate. We aren't about to let that happen."
"It won't be an easy task finding him," Alex noted.
"No, it won't." Hulas agreed. "but we know he is here on Kashyyyk, more specifically, in the Shadowlands. He is probably honing his skills against the wildlife. Once he's eliminated, meet me at Atho City on Manaan."
With those words the Rodian turned and headed towards the spaceport, Alex paid him no head, instead formulating his new course of action. Excitement ran through him, this was a hunt he knew he'd enjoy. Canderous told him that the Shadowland was a dangerous place, an area filled with various deadly predators lurking behind every bush. In other words, he would fit right in. Convincing Voren to go down there shouldn't be too hard. At a worst case scenario, he'd simply ditch them and go down himself. Speaking of the devil, he could see the Jedi and Canderous in the distance. Noting they were missing a companion.
"I take it things didn't go as planned?" Alex asked then they were close enough.
"Not exactly," Voren said, lifting his shoulders. "They've taken Zaalbar hostage until I kill someone for their Chieftain."
"And where is this someone?"
"The Shadowland."
"How unfortunate." Alex stated. "But for Zaalbar's sake, we better comply."
"Yes, for now."
Voren took the lead, following the directions he received from Chuundar and surely enough, they soon afterwards arrived at a primitive looking elevator. One lone Wookiee with nearly black fur guarded the device. He looked at the elevator with skepticism, could that thing really be safe to ride. The Wookiee guard didn't say anything, but he did open the gates. Showing that he clearly didn't want to speak or acknowledge them anymore than he had to.
Alex stepped forth first, causing the elevator to squeak and creak. He took a step back, before entering again. The elevator screamed even more at the pressure, Alex sighed as he stepped off a second time. He looked at the others with an annoyed gaze.
"I'm not riding that with you." Canderous stated flatly.
"Me neither." Voren agreed.
Alex snarled. "Fine, I don't have the patience for it anyway."
Charging forward, Alex jumped over the edge and disappeared from view.
"Oh my god, Alex!" Voren yelled as he rushed to the railing. What he should have seen was Alex descending quickly towards his death, for surely even he couldn't survive an impact from this height. But what he saw would be forever edged inside his mind. Alex was in the distance, arms shaped as an arrow, dodging trees left and right. It was one of the most incredible and disturbing things he'd ever seen.
"Is…is he flying?"
"I uh.." Canderous said, having a loss of words. "I think he's flying."
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Au
In the Genoharadan quest, there's a man called Rulan Prolik who can shapeshift much like Alex. The difference is that he can change his mass to a larger degree; while Alex can too, he has less control. Alex lowers his mass when gliding, for instance. In this quest, Rulan can change his mass from anything as small as a bird, to as large as a Terentatek. While transforming, he takes on the characteristics of that animal as well, like poisoned claws etc. The only limitation is that he can't imitate force ability. So my question is this.
Would you like to see Alex with that ability? Essentially it would allow him to transform into any animal within those ranges after consuming a specimen.