Chapter 17: Wild Heart: Drowning
[The Ouran, space over Falleen, the Falleen system]
Adi sat, shuddering on the pouf. Cross-legged, her brow furrowed and her eyes closed. A million points of light surrounded her – twinkling holographic stars hanging in the air all around. She was in the Star map room, a room consisting entirely of a holoprojector system. It was used more for visualisation purposes than precision navigation. In the war, Jedi generals – Oppo in particular – had often used it to abstractly plan out strategies and fronts. In times recent, its primary use had become education and meditative. And so, here Adi sat, one star system in particular hovering in focus before her face. The Teth system.
Adi was jolted from her thoughts by a familiar, comforting presence drifting into the forefront of her mind. Ah. She'd wondered how long it would take him to notice. A soft hiss came behind her as the door admitted Saesee, softly sweeping in. Wordlessly, he sat on another pouf, opposite her. After a little observing her, he spoke.
"What is the matter?"
"Something's… happened with Stass," Adi began, "I can feel it. Another flashback, I think." Her eyes flickered open to meet his piercing yellow ones.
"You're worried about her." It wasn't a question.
"Rather, yes." Even as she said it, she looked jittery, fingers drumming on her knees. "I have a really bad feeling about this."
"I think you could stand to take your mind off matters," Saesee replied, scratching his chin. "Fly with me?"
A small upturn of her mouth as she looked at his outstretched rubbery hand. She took it.
"Of course."
[Fwacide, the Falleen system]
"Welcome, Bultar, to Los Mang Jagas – quite a sight, huh?"
Bultar glanced down at the view as they came in. She had to admit it was indeed a good view. The city sprawled in a circle, out over the positively gargantuan westward-facing delta as it spilled into the shallow sea, mostly fed by a very wide river snaking off into the swamplands to the east and then further still to the rainforest on the horizon, but also by other smaller tributaries. To the north was hilly rolling grasslands and the south was awash with fields upon fields of agriculture.
Smaller settlements were visible dotted around from their shuttle's vantage point, but they were all thoroughly dwarfed by the primary city itself. Los Mang Jagas was an impressive array of stone and metal, of elegant stonework and promenades offset with shiny, metal skyscrapers glittered in the noon sunshine. Rustic, masonic grand halls, plazas and monuments stood alongside durasteel spires – some old, some new – an odd, yet pretty contrast.
"Dang – you're not kidding!"
Their shuttle banked, taking them towards the northern edge of the city – towards a thoroughly middle class area. The docks were nice, the buildings were nice, everything was nice – hardly grand – just nice. Setting down in short order, the pair disembarked amid the hissing of venting steam and the ever-present smell of fuel.
"Lethian should be waiting for us outside the port. No sense hanging around," Micah commented as made for the bay exit. "Keep your wits about you – thieves thrive where you least expect them."
Bultar nodded as he led her out of the bay into the crowded foyer. The sight that greeted her, was… interesting to say the least. Elves. Lots of elves. Very similar to humans indeed, the most noticeable differences being the pointed ears and the very broad array of hair colours. The crowd was a rainbow sea of greens, purples, reds – actual reds no less – in amongst the more humanish blacks, browns, blonds and oranges.
They weren't the interesting part, though. The interesting part was the huge, hairy, horned beast of a being striding along ahead, about twice her width and at least three times her height, hefting what looked to be an entire hyperdrive over the shoulder. She was broken from her staring – simultaneously realising she'd been doing so – by Micah suddenly pulling her aside just in time to avoid her being run over by something four-legged.
"Wits, about you." There was more than slight amusement in his voice. "The big guy's a minotaur. The guy who nearly trampled you was a centaur – incidentally, he was trying to grab your bag."
"Um… right, right. Sorry!" She followed after him, keeping a firmer grip on her bag and trying not to look quite as much like a blatant tourist. The port was rather stuffy and dry from the heat of the day, but there was just enough tempting breeze to promise relief outside. Micah was kind enough to give a running, muttered commentary each time they passed some new type of denizen.
"That's a faun." A pleasant-seeming fellow with a humanoid torso but furry, hooved legs and a long tail.
"Goblin." Green and short, the tallest she saw was at most three quarters her height, with beady little eyes and a long nose.
"Satyr – no, not the same as a faun, look for the short tail and the horn curve."
Shortly, they came to the exit, opening out onto fresh air and a wide street.
"Where is he, then?" She asked looking around. She could see several speeders parked up with waiting owners, but nobody who looked particularly like a Jedi – a pair of centaur merchants; a dark-haired elf in all leather; a goblin carrying a datapad and a scowl; a gaggle of what looked to be a school outing; another goblin, snoozing on his dashboard; and a lot of taxi-drivers.
"I think that's him," Micah said, pointing at the leather-clad man. He looked quite young – and also like he had a pathological repulsion towards hairbrushes if his ebony mess was any indication.
"Er… come again?" Bultar's eyebrows would have disappeared into her fringe, were it not clipped back as always.
"Yes, I think that is him." Micah affirmed – more to himself than to Bultar.
"You're not serious," she replied, forced to follow him as he approached the elf, who was leaning against the side of his speeder, facing away from them. Up close he looked even younger than Bultar had supposed – he couldn't have been more than a few years older than her. His nose was buried in a small datapad – rather out of place for a guy who wore a black and blue leather jacket and whose speeder had azure flame designs painted up it.
"Kienyr? How've you been?" Micah jovially asked.
The elf looked up, recognising Micah and quickly smiling.
"Master Giiett! Great to see you again! And this is Bultar, is it?" He peered in a friendly manner at her.
Rather taken aback, she stared at him, before shaking her head just a tad.
"Oh, sorry. I, er, wasn't expecting…"
"This?" he offered helpfully, gesturing down at his attire. "It does tend to catch people off guard a lot, yeah."
"Don't get me wrong, it looks good!" she hastily clarified, "Just… well it's not really what you expect a Jedi to be wearing."
"Well, to be honest, I get flack for it a lot, so it's nice that you're not cringing like Master Giiett did last time he was here." He gave a playful grin at the oldest of them.
"Yes, well," Micah replied, "much as I don't understand it, your clothes are your clothes. Shall we get going?"
"Probably a good idea, yes." Kienyr hopped into the driver's seat of his speeder, starting it up. "Hop in."
[Tethese, Teth]
"Physically, she's fine," Coleman concluded, "but I've never known her to have an attack so soon after the last one. Neither has Agen – he's going over our shortlist for transmission points with her, by the way, to narrow down the leak location. It's easy work and should help distract her – ease her mind."
"It should certainly help," replied the hologram – the glowing Roonan head of Master Lev'Loa. He spoke slowly and clearly, his deep voice warbling. "Ideally, I'd come out to see her, but I can't just jet off to Wild Space on such short notice. I'll want an appointment with her the moment she's back. From the sound of it, I don't think she's in immediate danger."
"And if it happens again?"
"Send her straight back here. I wouldn't worry about that happening, though, it's probably just an anomaly."
"Well, no offence, but hopefully we won't see each other soon."
A dry chuckle.
"Of course – have a pleasant day, Knight Kcaj."
The hologram flickered and died, Coleman stowing his communicator and leaving the balcony. In the lounge, Stass and Agen were pouring over datapads while Norcuna and Colonel Doćo were comparing personnel files. Norcuna looked up as Coleman entered.
"Well?" he asked quietly.
"He's worried," Coleman replied, looking over at Stass.
"Can she sense something is wrong?" asked Doćo.
"Even if she couldn't, I think she's probably tipped off by the fact that this doesn't usually happen."
Doćo nodded.
"On to our mission," Norcuna began, "Me and Colonel-"
"Primary Colonel," interjected Doćo.
"Primary Colonel Doćo," Norcuna continued, "have a tentative shortlist of possible turncoats – based off of who we think is most likely to be a target of bribery or blackmail. I've arranged a meeting with a contact in Black Sun tonight at one of the lower level docks. Hopefully he can help identify or narrow down our suspect pool."
[The Ouran, Master Solusar's office]
"Am… I interrupting anything?"
Masters Solusar and Sifo-Dyas looked up from their very extensive argument. Only now did it occur to either of them that Sifo-Dyas had left the door open. Standing in the open entrance was a tall, grey-haired, bearded man in a long brown cloak, tied with a metal chain between two broaches. At his belt was a curved lightsaber hilt. His deep voice had held more than a little amusement, his lined face crinkled in a small smile at the sight of them.
"Count!" Sifo-Dyas beamed, recovering well and stepping forward to shake the man's hand. "No, not at all – how long has it been, a couple months? So good of you to come by. To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"Are you sure I am not intruding? I can come back-" He was cut off by Sifo-Dyas holding up his hand.
"No, no, my door has always been open to you. Me and Ranik can sort this out another time."
"If you are sure," Count Dooku continued, "I was hoping to see you, actually. I hoped we could discuss the rising tensions in the Corporate Sector – I've been trying to mediate and wanted your view on the situation."
"Oh, of course – over lunch, then? It's about that time. Ranik, care to join us? I'm sure your-"
"No thank you," Ranik said, curtly. Or 'huffed' may be more accurate.
"Suit yourself," Sifo-Dyas shrugged. The two left Ranik in his office, heading for nearby kitchens.
"Trouble in paradise?" Dooku asked, evenly.
"Bruck, his padawan. He's… well, I didn't expect Ranik to bounce perfectly back after… what happened, but still. He owes it to the boy to try and sort him out."
"Ah, Padawan troubles. I miss many aspects of Jedi life, but I can safely say I am glad my time as a teacher is now ended."
"Yes, I would have thought Qui-Gon was more than enough of an experience for you, but you somehow found the patience for Komari and Keelyvine after him."
"I endured. Somehow." His wry smile flickered, before finally dropping. "Actually, Komari is part of what I wanted to talk to you about. She's been causing some trouble. I felt it would be good to have a degree of authority in confronting her."
"Well, if you think I'm a good spokesperson for the Order, perhaps you don't know me as well as I thought," Sifo-Dyas replied with a smirk.
"I've already spoken briefly with the council," Dooku replied, "They were surprisingly keen to suggest you go along with me. I don't know if I should be glad or not. It's almost as if they want you out of the way to cause as few problems as possible."
"Well, if I'm not making at least one councillor's paperwork inflate unnecessarily, what good am I for, eh?" As Sifo-Dyas spoke, they came to the kitchens. Dooku's presence was far from unnoticed and it was only after a quick greeting from just about everyone in the room that the two could sit down on their own again. On the plus side, J'Mikel insisted on making lunch for the two, so all they had to do was sit and wait.
"Well, the Komari situation can wait, more concerning is the situation in the Corporate Sector – you heard what happened to Iaco Stark on Castell?"
"As a matter of fact, no – what did happen?"
"Darth Phobos herself saw fit to pay him visit – he's now on a psychiatric ward waiting for someone with the knowledge to undo whatever it is she did to him. He won't stop screaming."
"Well, I can't say I feel sorry for him," Sifo-Dyas sighed as J'Mikel set both plates down in front of them. "Thank you, J'Mikel."
"Yes, thank you very much." Dooku offered a charming smile before turning back to his friend. "Well, the problem is that Castell is deep in Republic territory – while nobody can prove Darth Phobos's intrusion, there is no doubt in anybody's mind it was her. The Corporate Sector is not deep in Republic territory, as you may remember – it is on the other side of Sith space. If the Sith are so willing to brazenly make a move on Castell, you can see why CorpSec's various worlds are getting nervous.
"And the entire region turns into a paranoid, twitchy mess." Sifo-Dyas finished for him.
"Exactly. I wanted your thoughts on approaching the matter – CorpSec's been playing at neutral for centuries, allowing both Republic and Sith elements to come and go for years. This has many of the powers there worried, however. If they outright sided with the Republic, or the Sith had a sudden change of heart… well, they'd be on their own at the edge of known space."
"So, more than a few elements are beginning to seriously think about unambiguously joining the Sith?"
"Exactly."
"Well, I think, ultimately, the best course of action would be to try and convince them that the Sith are, well, dangerous – show them the documentation of the atrocities."
"And what if that terrifies them into capitulating even faster?"
"Hmm, good point." Sifo-Dyas scratched his chin. "Well, maybe channel their self-interest – point out how well their neutral position has benefitted them over the years."
"That is what I thought, yes, but I wanted your opinion on it – do you think it could work?"
"CorpSec is run by the interests of the wallet. I think it'd be a very good avenue. Now, enough stalling with all this political talk please." Sifo-Dyas's voice dropped. "Let's talk about why you really wanted to see me – you mentioned Komari?"
"Yes. She resurfaced – and she's been killing. Publicly." The lines on Dooku's face grew deeper and heavier as he spoke, weighed down by regret.
"Ah. Oh dear, that… what do you intend to do?"
"I need to stop her. I'd rather take her alive, but I have my doubts it will be so simple. I spoke with the council and they think a member of the Order should also go – you."
Sifo-Dyas nodded, understandingly.
"Very well. But let me settle a few things first. Give me… a couple of days?"
"Of course." Dooku steepled his fingers together, thinking briefly. "Would it be possible to involve your contact? The Mandalorian?"
"Fett? Certainly. I just need to give him a rendezvous point. Where is Komari?"
Stass lay in the bath, relaxing in thought. Or at least, she was trying to. Norcuna had gone to meet his contact with Doćo and Coleman, leaving the Padawans behind. She found the water somewhat soothing at least. Certainly a welcome reprieve from a day of worrying. Agen hadn't said anything, but she knew he was worried.
With good reason. Nothing like this had happened before.
Trying to shake off her trepidation, she closed her eyes, trying to figuratively sink into the warm water.
The reverberating shriek of the blast echoed throughout the clearing. The young girl, no more than five, hit the ground hard, tears brimming at her eyes, a smoking mark on the too large armour piece.
"Better, but you're landing all wrong, dear." Came the voice of her mother, tutting and holstering her pistol. "Come on, up and we'll try again."
The girl didn't move, aside from gasping out lungfuls of air. Aeris sighed, rolling her eyes and marched over.
"I said, up." She reached down and pulled the child to her feet, roughly. "Honestly, it's like you don't want to make your mummy happy."
She positioned her daughter, standing straight, then backed up, pulling out her weapon again and taking aim.
There was another blast, but this one missed – the girl having dropped into a ball.
"Damnit, you won't learn how to cope with pain like that!" Aeris huffed. "Up again and we'll do this properly-"
"No!" The child shouted, flinching back away from Aeris's advance.
"No?" Aeris stopped dead. "What did you just say, young lady?" Her voice had a cool quality to it now.
"I- I want to go home!"
Aeris frowned, pulling her daughter up. Then she gave her a swift backhand.
"Do not talk back to me, young lady, I a-" Again, she stopped, looking at the tiny pinprick of red on her daughter's face. She glanced down at her hand, specifically at the ring she wore on her little finger. She must have forgotten to take it off after the morning's meeting with the soon to be very deceased diplomat. "Oh. The virus." She paled.
And then, she dropped to her knees, quickly hugging her daughter.
"I'm sorry, so sorry, mummy got carried away! You understand, don't you?" Her daughter only stood rigid as Aeris rambled, clutching her daughter close, seemingly on the verge of tears. "We need to get home, yes, see the physician. Stass, come here, we're going home!" She stood, addressing the four-year-old, who had been off to the side watching everything with wide eyes.
When they entered the main foyer of the Allie estate, Aeris did not waste any time in calling the physician, even despite being somewhat beside herself. The perfect anxious parent.
"It's Naoru – she's very unwell, she must have caught something!" Indeed, Naoru was overheating by this point, feverish and sweating heavily. She went downhill rapidly after that, Aeris growing more and more frantic, shakily clutching on to Uehara when he ran into the infirmary.
By the evening, Naoru couldn't even sit up, Stass had been in to see her, or see her as well as she could through the containment unit. She'd heard the physician mention 'Rectavirus' several times, but would not know what that meant until years later. In the morning, her parents came in to Stass's room to tell her, distraught, that Naoru had gone away – to join her older brother.
The flight had done a lot to take Adi's mind off of Stass. It was something that she felt so free doing, dancing and twisting through the skies and now she and Saesee were sitting cross-legged in her room, opposite each other and meditating together. As long as they had been friends, which had indeed been a very long time, they had taken to sharing their minds, melding them to meditate and find a closeness difficult to describe to others. Harmony. Understanding. Naturally, people talked, gossiped, but she'd long since blocked that out. Saesee was the only one who really got her – and her him. She certainly wasn't going to let the ignorant mewling get in the way of that.
As their minds synchronised, both took a deep breath in, then let it out. Everything, right down to their pulses was now in step.
No secrets.
No miscommunication.
Only understanding and trust.
Unsurprisingly, Saesee was still mourning for his recently deceased master, Omo Bouri. Again, she drew him into her – a sort of mental hug, with far more meaning than a regular one. But there wasn't much she felt she could do beyond be there for when he was ready. He knew that as she did, understanding and thankful.
They progressed onto Adi's most pressing concern, soothed, but still very much at the surface: Stass.
Adi could feel Saesee's suggestion – reach out, get a feeling for Stass, to make sure she was alright. Or at least not too much in trouble.
It was a good idea. Casting their melded mind out, reaching across the stars, the immense scale of the galaxy as nothing against their search. It didn't take long to follow the connection between Adi and her cousin to Teth, sharper focus coming as their consciousness got closer, closer. And finally-
Pain!
Fear!
Something was wrong! Terribly wrong! A shadow seemed closing around Stass, like an indistinct fist clenching, swallowing her, drowning her! In shock, the pair stumbled back, retreating into themselves, shielding each other from… whatever that was.
Stass was in danger. More than anybody else realised. In the splinter of their mind's eye, Adi and Saesee had glimpsed something sinister, malevolent, but also confident and self-satisfied.
Whatever it was, it was dangerous. Adi had to get there, now. Had to save Stass.
But, Saesee pointed out, Adi was panicking, riled up – in no state to face this.
But Adi had to go. Stass needed help. She had to go.
But she couldn't go – shouldn't go, not like this. Saesee couldn't let her. He was also the master telepath. Adi's capabilities had always been more geared towards the physical. And so Saesee did something neither ever believed he would do. He stopped her. Adi knew as soon as he did what he was doing, but could not stop him. The weight of his mind was crushing hers like an egg, suppressing, smothering. Drowning.
No! She had to go! She had to save Stass! Stass needed her! He couldn't let her go, though, she'd die. He couldn't lose his friend. But she had to help Stassandpleasedon'tdothissheneedsmjnsjkbdfbmajbsm-
I'm sorry.
Adi's eyes rolled back into her head as she keeled over, into Saesee's arms. Gently, he lay his unconscious, closest friend back onto her bed. He could only hope she could forgive him.
Of course she would forgive him. She already had; he could sense it. That didn't make him feel much better, though.
Suddenly, choking and spluttering, Stass found herself being hauled out of the bath. In seconds, a towel was around her and her vision was filled with Agen's face. His expression was a mix of alarm, relief, horror and anger.
"Dammit, Stass!" He shouted. "You promised me – PROMISED – that you wouldn't lock bathroom doors anymore! Not after last time this happened!"
Stass was dazed, trying to piece together what was going on as she became dimly aware that he was clutching her very tightly.
"Wh- door?" It finally all came into sharp focus. The bathroom door over his shoulder had a gaping hole in it, the edges glowing with the tell-tale molten trails of Agen's lightsaber. The two of them were on the bathmat and there was a lot of water on all over the floor. Something else struck her.
"Agen… I didn't lock the door."
Agen briefly let go to stare at her. Quietly, he leant her against the side of the bath, then got up to inspect the door. Locked. Frowning, he turned to the open window. It was a cold night. Why would the window be open?
"Did you open the window, Stass?" he quietly asked.
He got the answer he dreaded, a headshake.
Slowly, he approached it and inspected it. The magnetic bolt was exposed on the outer frame and disengaged.
"Someone forced this open. From outside."