Chapter 15

Quinn reached the top of the incline and took a few deep breaths. The air was saturated with the spicy scent of some unfamiliar flower, and the cries of strange birds echoed off the canyon walls far below. Here the path diverged, one section meandering back down the hill, while the other twisted around an outcropping and continued further up towards the top of the mesa. This second path was blocked by a metal fence, on which was hung a sign.

Danger!

Trail closed due to unstable conditions.

"Here it is," Morda said, appearing at his side. She pulled the gate toward her, creating a small gap, and sucked in her gut as she pried herself through it. Quinn followed, but was forced to swung his leg over the top of the gate to climb over instead. He had seen first hand how the groundquakes on this planet could collapse an entire mesa in mere seconds, and he hoped that they would have no such fatal encounters today. It was dangerous enough that they were here for their final confrontation with Moff Broysc. He had expected to be more nervous, but instead he felt clear-headed and calm.

At the mesa's top was an outcropping consisting of a few bushes and stunted trees. Beyond that the earth abruptly dropped away, leaving nothing but a vast expanse of brilliant blue sky.

"What the-?" Morda was leaping to her feet next to a rock partially hidden by branches. "Damn it all, that was close. Come look at this Quinn." She was peering over the top of the bush and looking down.

Quinn approached and leaned over the rock. Behind the bushes was a ring of earth choked with weeds and tree roots. In the center, the ground fell into a dark, wide abyss, so deep that he could not spy the bottom.

"Many of the mesas here are riddled with caves, my lord." A chill breeze wafted up from the hole, carrying with it the damp, woody odor of plant roots and mulch. Quinn pulled back, an uneasy shiver passing through him. Who knew how deep the pit went? "It's a good thing you didn't try to sit too far back on that rock. It doesn't look stable."

Morda bent and snatched up a stone. She held it out over the hole and then dropped it. A long silence followed. Quinn was about to question whether they were on a ledge that the hole simply went all the way through, when a faint splash echoed up from far below.

"Damn," Morda said. She gave the hole a suspicious glare and settled on a rock some distance away.

Tibarr holoed Quinn and then appeared shortly after, trudging up the hill with a surly-looking Broysc being prodded ahead of him. Broysc was red-faced and furious, muttering to himself and clawing at the slave collar around his neck. When he spotted Quinn waiting at the top of the mesa he became nearly incoherent with rage.

"You! I should have known that Admiral Malcontent would be behind this! Who released you from your cage? Your next one will be coffin sized! No, urn sized! In a locket I wear around my neck! I should have blown Balmorra away-"

Broysc's rant was cut short when Tibarr engaged the shock mechanism on the collar.

"Stars, just shut up, will you?"

Broysc fell silent, but his eyes skittered back and forth between Morda and Quinn, his lip twitching as if he could barely contain the remains of his previous verbal assault. Broysc looked smaller and more frail than Quinn had remembered. He was an old man now, his hair gone white and his eyes pale and watery.

"Broysc, everything you have done here on Makeb will soon be public knowledge. You are not fit to be making crucial war time decisions."

Quinn pulled a holopad from his pocket and held it out to the moff before continuing "High Command will not allow these crimes to go unpunished. You can be relieved of your position in disgrace, or you can resign and keep your dignity. Sign this letter. It has already been written."

Broysc looked through Quinn as if he weren't even there, his gaze settling on Morda behind him.

"It was you, Sith, wasn't it? You let him off Balmorra! Are you out of your mind? It was his blunder that let the Jedi targets escape the bombardment on Taris!"

Morda glanced in Quinn's direction. "I didn't realize you were over three hundred years old, Quinn."

Broysc had barely paused to take a breath and was continuing to rave about epic military failures from history, attributing them all to Quinn's doing.

Quinn gave Morda a nervous look. "I can only assume that some kind of dementia has set in." The situation was far worse than Quinn had ever suspected. Broysc was not merely incompetent, he was mentally insane. Having him at the helm of any major military operation would be more than just careless, it would be suicidal. Broysc was too far gone to even recognize his own folly. Appealing to a normal man's fear of public disgrace and embarrassment would mean to nothing to Broysc. Quinn looked down at the letter of resignation he had penned. It was useless and inadequate for dealing with something of this magnitude.

"He's a lunatic," Morda said. "He should be committed."

"My sentiments exactly."

Broysc was gradually working himself up into a frenzy. Spittle flew from his lips and his voice grew more shrill. It was echoing faintly now off the canyon walls. He pointed a crooked finger in Quinn's direction.

"You are nothing! Nobody! Your insubordination is ruining the Empire! I will have you put to death! No, even better, I demand that you kill yourself now! Do it! Do it now, I command you!"

Men had died due to this man's incompetence. How could no else see it? Were they too afraid to act against him? Of course they were. Quinn stared at the moff, the man who had nearly ruined his career. Quinn had suffered through years of caution and doubt, fearing to lose his dreams again due to the whim of another callous superior like Broysc. Broysc had shamed him in front of the tribunal, made his accomplishments inconsequential against the stigma of a court martial. Quinn thought of the hours of toil and late-night study that he had endured throughout his time at the academy, how hard he had worked for his position at the top of his graduating class, the discretion he had shown in making careful tactical decisions, decisions which others often took credit for. Morda was right, he realized. I have been ruled by fear. He would be afraid no longer. This charade had gone far enough.

Quinn replaced the holocomm back into his pocket and slowly drew his blaster. Broysc was still hurling insults at him, and Quinn watched them spew from his lips, feeling strangely calm. Yet far within him, a coil of rage unfurled, awakening like a sleeping giant. It is not revenge. It is justice.

"My lord." Quinn's voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it that hadn't been there before. Morda must have sensed the change in him. She turned, her red eyes aglow with pride, like the kind a teacher would have for a student who had finally surpassed all expectations.

"I've resisted all along, but this is personal." Quinn raised the blaster. A sigh escaped him, the breath of many years of bottled up self-denial. I am no longer chained. I am free.

"Permission to execute the moff."

"You deserve your rightful redress, Quinn. Take it."

Quinn did not get the chance to pull the trigger. A blast blew him off his feet, hurling him into the air. On either side of him, Morda and Tibarr were blurs rocketing backwards as well. Damn it all, Tibarr failed to remove Brosyc's pulse detonator! Quinn barely had time for the thought to register when he landed hard, his lungs flattened by the impact. For a moment his body skittered across the ground, the gravel beneath him transformed into a field of tiny knives which scraped the skin clean off his palms and chin. He was perilously close to the edge. His fingers latched onto a hardy clump of weeds, finally slowing his momentum. He spotted his blaster nearby and lunged for it, stumbling to his feet.

Broysc had his back to him and was breaking into a run. Quinn stared down the sight of his blaster, aiming for a head shot.

"Broysc!"

The moff turned instinctively at the sound of Quinn calling his name, and in that split second Quinn saw Brosyc's face frozen into a look of blind terror. Quinn squeezed the trigger.

Broysc's head snapped back and his whole body jerked, his arms flailing out seconds before he crumpled to the ground. There was a tiny smoking hole burned into Broysc's forehead and Quinn knew his shot had been true.

"Quinn!"

Morda's scream was raw with fright. He raced towards the sound, dread crawling over him as he realized why he couldn't see Morda anywhere. He threw himself across a rock near the bushes where Morda had been sitting earlier and leaned out over the yawning mouth of the underground cavern. Morda's red face was almost obscured by shadow, but she was there, gripping a rocky ledge, her feet swinging over empty air. She swore then, the last words Quinn would hear her utter.

Then she fell.

"Morda!" Quinn's strained voice echoed back at him in an obscene mockery of his horror, spiraling around the hole's dark edges. A distant splash followed.

Quinn stared into the darkness, stunned. This was a mistake surely, or just a bad dream. How could the moment of his triumph have turned into such a nightmare?

Your lord - no, your love - is down there. You can't give her up for dead! Quinn ran to Tibarr's side, who was slumped against a jutting block of stone. His hair was matted with blood and lots of it. Quinn bent to his side, rifling through Tibarr's belt pouch with one hand, while shaking him with the other.

"Tibarr!" He stopped and felt for a pulse. Nothing. Quinn resumed his search in earnest and soon found what he was looking for. Tibarr had carried a grapple hook, thank the stars.

Quinn raced to the hole's edge and engaged the launch mechanism on the hook. It shot out with the force of a gun, burying itself into the ground nearby. Once he set the release and got the rope pulled out as far as it would go, he leaned over the edge of the cavern and screamed Lord Morda's name. No answer. He dropped the rope into the opening and listened for a tell-tale splash, but was greeted with silence. Just how deep was this black hell hole? It didn't matter. He had to go down there.

He sat on the edge and wrapped his leg around the rope. The cavern's maw swallowed him as he descended, cloaking him in blackness. The constant moaning of the wind across the mesa tops was muffled here, the bird calls silenced and the air noticeably chilly. Soon even the faint sounds of the outside world faded away, and Quinn's ears began to adjust to the voice of the cavern. The acoustics here were powerful and strange, making it impossible for Quinn to pinpoint any one direction as being the source of sound. The cavern whispered all around him, and Quinn imagined the cave itself as Makeb's mouthpiece, breathing and sighing like a living thing. Fear creeped down between Quinn's shoulder blades and made an icy trail along his spine. Morda is down here, he reminded himself.

Gradually, Quinn realized that he was not, in fact, in absolute darkness. Around him the cavern opened up into what he could vaguely discern as a giant cave, with domed walls more impressive than any Jedi temple. By the stars, he thought, this cave was beneath us all the while. How long until the roof collapsed completely? Below him the cave bottom went on forever. He continued his descent, finally seeing that the the water was closer than he had realized. It was so clear that he had been able to see right through it, making the cave's end seem deeper than it was. Or perhaps that was all relative. How deep did the lake go?

Quinn carefully lowered himself to the end of the rope. He would have to let go and drop into the water from here. It wasn't far, but once in the water, there would be no way for him to reach the rope again. He cursed and his voice bounced around the walls of the cavern, sounding deeper and less like his own with every echo. He'd come this far, perhaps the lake had a shoreline that was out of sight. What else was there to do?

He let go of the rope.

The shock of the icy water drove the air from Quinn's lungs. He gasped, the mineral rich water tasting bitter and metallic. He stared down into the water, seeing boulders, ledges, and a continuation of the cave far below. Where was Morda? She was Sith and that surely gave her a physical advantage, but was she able to hold her breath this long? Had the shock of the fall rendered her unconscious? Had she been swept away in some unseen subterranean current, disappearing far into the caves tunnels below? The thought blanked out Quinn's mind with terror. Drowning in this forgotten place would be a horrible way to die.

"Morda!" he screamed. The desperation made his voice break, and hearing his own fear echoing back at him filled him with panic. He splashed about, swimming first one way and then the other, squinting into the water's depths for something, anything that could be a sign of Morda.

Then he saw it. A glint far below the water's surface, the reflection of light on metal. It was one of Morda's lightsaber hilts. Quinn swam towards it until it was directly underneath him. Then he sucked in a lungful of air and dove.

The cold water squeezed around his head in a band of pain as Quinn forced his body into the depths of the pool. His fingers closed around Morda's lightsaber and he shoved it into the waistband of his pants. The lightsaber had fallen onto a ledge, yet the pool continued on beneath it, shadowed in darkness. Quinn ducked under the ledge.

This great abyss did have a bottom after all. There was Morda struggling not far from the rock bed, looking like she was trying to swim upwards. Quinn guessed that she had gotten lost under the ledge and was having trouble maneuvering around it and out. Her left arm was turned at an odd and sickening angle, and while her eyes were open, they looked bulging and blank. Did she see him at all? He grabbed her around the waist and kicked fiercely from underneath her, propelling her towards the surface. His whole body was burning now for air and the urge to breathe was almost overwhelming.

At last they broke the surface. Morda splashed about awkwardly, her face contorted with pain, while huge gasps wracked her body. Quinn curled his arm around her and pulled her back against him. Then he began to swim for shore.

Damn it all, was there a shore? Quinn swam, trusting to luck that this pool didn't end at a wall. He refused to think about what he would do if that happened. Suddenly his feet hit something and he stumbled against rock. The pool was shallow enough here to stand. He climbed up more layers of rock, but Morda was crumpled next to him, unable to climb with one arm and too weak and pull herself out. Quinn awkwardly pulled her closer by her good arm and then stood up to carry her. He had found a shore. A narrow one, granted, but it was a dry place to rest nonetheless. Quinn sunk to his knees, laid Morda on the ground and then slumped over beside her. Her chest was still rising and falling unusually fast, her body shaking from the cold, but most unsettling of all was the way she stared upwards with unseeing eyes.

Quinn leaned over her, gathering her closer to his body and gently turning her face towards his. He chanted her name over and over and said other meaningless things. At last she blinked and her eyes met his, clear recognition dawning across her face like the sun breaking over the horizon. She reached out with her good arm and stroked Quinn's face. The faintest smile passed across her features.

"Oh, thank the stars." Quinn buried his face against her shoulder, feeling her hair tickling his cheek. "I thought...I thought I'd lost you..." For once, Quinn decided that he'd had enough of dangerous pursuits. They needed a vacation. And not one on Makeb.

Morda's hand reached out for his, squeezing his fingers tightly. Quinn raised his head and brought Morda's hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

"Your arm looks broken," he told her. "Hold on just a little longer."

She winced and nodded. Quinn pulled out his holocom, pressed the button, and held his breath. It worked.

"I'm getting us out of here."

00o00

Quinn entered the med center and found Morda sitting up in bed, surrounded by fluffy pillows. Her color was good, although her arm was a cast with a vial of kolto embedded in it. He sat gingerly on the edge of her bed, careful not to disturb the outline of her limbs beneath the sheets. Leaning in, he kissed her on the cheek and murmured in her ear.

"The body has been disposed of, my lord. Broysc fell off the cliff edge due to his own negligence in choosing to enter a path that had been closed to the public."

"His poor decisions have finally caught up with him then."

"So it seems."

A shadow fell over the doorway and Morda looked up, her face brightening. "What's this? A get-well party?"

Broonmark slunk through the doorway, burbling something about Morda's new battle scars being a mark of pride. Behind him came Pierce and Jaesa, followed lastly by Vette, who was carrying a large box. She set it on Morda's lap and clasped her hands, nearly bouncing on her feet.

"Open it!"

Quinn watched Morda's face as she lifted the lid. A joyous, childlike grin stretched across her face. "Oh! A cake!"

Pierce leaned in and pointed a thick finger at the inscription. "Wrote that part myself, m'lord. All their choices were a bit on the frilly side. Thought something more direct was better for you."

Quinn peered into the box and saw that the cake had been crudely piped with the words, "Heal Fast Dammit!"

Morda chuckled.

"Excellent, let's have some." Morda held out the box and Quinn took it over to a side table.

As he sat in Morda's room, watching the sunlight stream in and eating cake, Quinn realized that he felt happier than he had in a very long time.