Chapter Twenty-Five: Kryntathi
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"I'll take the left side. You veer off to the right and meet me on the other side of the planet before landing. If you see anything – good or bad – let me know immediately," Gryq ordered.
Jaina clicked her comm twice in agreement. "Ghost Girl out.
Flipping the comm frequency off with a decisive switch, Jaina relaxed into her seat. The planet was Tirith. When pushed, Wedge had, vaguely, explained that the Rebellion had tried to take back the merchant planet, which was particularly loyal to their old government. The lure of business alliances probably hadn't hurt the Rebellion's desire to help, either, Jaina thought wryly. The attempt to recapture the planet hadn't gone very smoothly, but Wedge wasn't sure how much had worked out, and wanted Gryq and Jaina to check it out.
Piece of sweet cake with frill syrup, she conceded. Wedge had given her a rookie's job – a job that was made all the easier after her death. She had worked on and off with Intelligence, but Zekk supplied a wealth of Imperial knowledge, which more than came in handy. Although Jaina and Zekk's bond was not of the sometimes eerie I-lived-your-life sense that Jaina and Sanar shared, more than a little bled through their connection. Donning "Zekk's" eyes, she lowered her ship and scanned the planet's topography, absently scrawling down notes.
Higher concentration of patrol ships – definitely on guard; probably best to expect a few traps as well, just in case. The Empire doesn't want to get caught with their pants down again.
Patrol ships look battered, and are going at a slower pace; the look-outs are always in the best condition but, again, it could be a trick.
No hassle after entering the atmosphere; either they're too busy looking for trouble, or they have sympathetic locals manning the controls while the Empire gathers themselves.
The base…
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Sanar had had quite enough. Anything she made herself eat came up in minutes. Medicine did nothing to help. Her dreams were confusing at best, and she had given up on the idea of them being visions; the Strings were rarely so tangled, especially now that they, too, had abandoned her.
She was going to make Devnos confess.
If, that is, she was able to stay awake, stave off the dizziness and hallucinations, and still manage to speak cohesively. And remember her plan. Starting with "Wouldn't you rather gloat?" might be good. Confrontational. Sure to provoke him into slipping, without requiring a whole bunch of energy on her part.
Sanar had taken to naps in the afternoon, but she always woke up feeling worse. Right now was no exception. Her head was spinning just from thinking about being vertical.
Get up she did, however, and she felt a little better for it. Sanar made it all the way out of her door before she saw it.
Blood, covering the floor.
Shrieking softly, Sanar stumbled away from the sticky, red liquid that was rapidly spreading toward her feet. She knew – knew – that around the corner she would see Hoaire's corpse. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to will it away. This isn't happening. It can't.
And when she opened her eyes, it wasn't. Sanar took a shuddering breath, trying to steady herself. When she pushed herself back to her feet, she continued on to the lounge with trembling muscles. The delusions were coming more and more often, and she was getting better at dealing with them, but they still undid her, each and every time, no matter how she prepared herself.
When she entered the front chamber, however, Sanar's gaze found not her brother but his apprentice. Falat was leaning over something, while two glass vials, filled with a pale green substance, sat innocently on his desk, to the left of his datapads. The containers weren't rattling at all, and Sanar recognized vaguely that they must have stopped again. For more information on Zekk, maybe? But surely Devnos had gotten everything he wanted when he returned to Ennth that night…
"What are you doing?" It felt good to yell at someone, and Sanar was cranky enough to summon the energy to do just that.
Falat stopped, then turned to look at her. His blue eyes hit her like steel. "Working. What do you want?"
Instead of answering, she pretended that the only reason she was now leaning against his desk was because she wanted to peek at his 'work'. "What's with the weird juice?"
"Truth serum," he said impatiently, glaring up at her for disturbing him. She couldn't tell if he was lying or not.
Picking up one of the thin glasses, she studied it. "It all looks Gamorrean to me. Who's it—"
"Did you interrupt me solely to chat about what is clearly above you?"
Sanar bristled at his tone, and again she gathered her strength. "Where's Devnos?"
"Why?"
If he kept this up, she was going to scream. In his ear. "Because I want to talk to him, obviously," she growled in frustration.
"About…?"
She smacked him, but doubted he felt anything. "About whether or not he's poisoning me," she replied caustically.
Falat's hands, which had been moving a very weathered book, stilled. "Poisoning you?" His eyes flicked up to study her like a scientist regarding a specimen about to be dissected. "Is that the reason for your inability to move faster than crushed ice?"
This, she decided grumpily, was why she hated Dark-siders so much. They were so lafit full of themselves, even as their Dark electricity nibbled at their brains. "No, I've been inexplicably sick for two months. Devnos really didn't pick the sharpest knife off the belt, did he?"
Falat stared at her.
Unnerved, Sanar grabbed the book he had begun to put away. The Dark Jedi tried to snatch it back, but she leaned away, almost falling off Falat's desk in the process. "Ah-ah-ah!" she crowed breathlessly. "Stealers, keepers." She hopped off his table, managing to land on her feet as she scanned the volume's cover. "Hey," she muttered, perplexed, as she recognized the make of the notebook. "This is from…" Only her home planet made books like this – with tough, dried beast skin. Sanar flipped the worn cover and recognized the chicken scratch at a glance. "This is Devnos' – "
Falat snatched it out of her hands. "Devnos has a lead on Solo's location," he said quickly, shoving the book into a drawer as he answered her earlier question. "Apparently, she's out on a mission for the Rebellion. He thinks she will be in the area soon."
Sanar's mind turned to sludge as it attempted to process what Falat was saying while she fought off a dizzy spell. "He's…going to capture her, isn't he? Use her as bait?"
Devnos' apprentice nodded as he once again took his seat. "Yes. Now will you leave me to my work?"
"Fine." She turned to leave, but her feet wouldn't lift from the ground. "Anything good in there?" she asked, jerking her chin at Devnos' journal, and forcing a smirk.
She was a bratty, younger sister, after all.
Falat smiled thinly. "Some very juicy secrets," he replied cryptically.
"Do a dying, miserable sister a favour: make his life Hell with them."
The door swished closed behind her, and Falat sat back in his chair. "But of course."
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Jaina was nearly in sight of Gryq when she spotted a familiar personal shuttle. Although she could not currently put a name to the owner, Jaina was certain this would go down in Wedge's column of "needs to be checked out". And, if not, it definitely went in hers.
For all of twenty seconds, Jaina considered waiting for Gryq. When the owner-ship-connection epiphany kicked in, however, she shot forward into the atmosphere without further thought.
Rescuing an Imperial slave from her brother was a little outside of the mission plan, and Gryq might be too slow to agree. Besides, Devnos required getting the metal kicked out of him for wanting to use her as bait.
No, sometimes it was just better to leave the military out of it. Easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, and all.
She barely paused to encrypt and send her notes to Gryq before she prepared to land. Through their bond, she could feel Zekk's curiosity and his unformed questions. /Just taking care of a puzilts, darling./
And two-thirds of her was really, really going to take personal enjoyment in it.
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Whenever she called him "darling", or any variant thereof, Zekk knew that something was up. That Jaina was playful enough to hum through their bond only increased his anxiety.
Quite unfortunately, neither Jaina nor Sanar possessed much caution, but both – particularly Sanar – made up for it with an evil streak.
"Krista?"
The blonde looked up from her conversation with Talon Karrde and Shada D'ukal. "Yeah?"
"I think I'm going to need leave to head a rescue party." /Don't do anything too stupid, Jaina./
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/Who, me?/ Jaina smirked as she stood and holstered two of her blasters, while checking the power cell of the third. /Never./
Zekk's resignation was more than amusing. /Oh, by the way,/ she projected casually. /Devnos put a price on my head to get to you. Did you know that?/
Before Zekk could reply, she blanketed their bond. It was for his own good. Besides, Jaina didn't want him to come too early and spoil her fun.
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"Well?" Krista said when Karrde and his band had left. "Where to, Zekk?" The blonde watched him expectantly, and Miko turned in his chair.
"Hapes," Zekk replied glumly. "She wants me to look first." At Miko's raised eyebrow, Zekk rolled his eyes. "Just wait until you fall."
Miko shrugged and smirked, his eyes glinting. "I'm not crazy enough to aim for a Solo."
Zekk followed the other man's gaze to Krista, and couldn't suppress his laugh. "There are more dangerous families," he said, "than that of the Solos."
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Alright. So maybe she should have built a new lightsaber before going after Devnos. He was still a puzilts, but he was, after all, a puzilts with a red laser sword.
Devnos also wasn't playing fair, Jaina consoled herself. Not only had he, in a quite unsportsmanlike way, set a trap, but he had slicked the ground, too. Jaina had shot at him with two high-power blasters only to find herself rocketing and sliding in the opposite direction. Not fun – especially when he brought out Ysalamiri.
Kryntathi are all the same, her Sanar part grumbled silently.
Pulling herself to her knees, Jaina loosed another stream of blaster fire, evading the bolts that Devnos deflected back to her. "What the kriff are you doing to Sanar?" she demanded.
Devnos reached out with his hand and the Force to bring a tree branch down on her. He was only mildly disappointed when the Jedi dodged it. "You should be more concerned about yourself, Solo."
"I'll save the useless gestures for when I'm sure my sister's okay," Jaina snarled.
Taken aback by her words and the way her scowl made her look even more like Sanar, Devnos shook his head. " 'Your sister'?" he repeated. "Interesting choice of title."
"Considering your recent lack of emotional warmth, I'd say you have no right to be surprised, Devy-boy."
More perplexed by the minute, Devnos changed the subject as he slowly brought the tree branch back behind her head. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me where Lord Onyx is?"
Jaina lowered her blasters for a moment, her expression furious. "Onyx," she spat, "is dead."
"Wrong answer." Devnos sent the branch crashing into the back of Solo's head. Even before she fell, he drew his blaster and stunned her. The slicked ground sent the unconscious Jedi shooting sideways.
Rubbing the back of his head uncomfortably, Devnos deactivated and holstered his lightsaber. And tried not to notice how familiar Jaina's face and current position were.
//"You won't win, Devnos. Maybe you'll capture Jaina, maybe you'll lure Zekk in…but, in the end, you'll lose."//
He hated it when Sanar was right. Especially when she was only taking a stab in the dark.
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It will be soon.
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Any comments would be appreciated :)
.Tjz