Knight of the Watch, Part Three

by ArchPsion

Now the reluctant mentor of a boy set on becoming a Jedi in a galaxy controlled by the Empire, Darion Helion is hired to help a group known as the Hidden Path to escape capture by the Inquisitorious. But a mysterious Inquisitor known as the Huntsman is closing in

2. Chapter 2

Knight of the Watch, Part Three: The Hunt

I do not own Star Wars. It is property of Disney and its overlord Mickey Mouse.

Xxx

Part Three: The Hunt, Chapter One

Imperial Arquitens-Class Cruiser Oriena

The Huntsman did not meditate the way he used to. Once as a Jedi Knight he had immersed himself in the vast sea that was the Force and endeavoured to learn all there was to know of its wonders, yet he had been forbidden by the shackles of tradition and dogma from delving deeper into the secrets it held. Longing for more, he had sought to reach beyond the physical medium and seek his prize in the realm of the immaterial, which led to him discovering his peculiar affinity of psychometry, something which few other Jedi could boast of…and something which he has jealously guarded from all others. After having something that was entirely of his own, he had refused to allow for it to be impeded by the condescending arrogance of the Jedi Council…and so he had used it to access freely that which had been forbidden to him.

Delving into those darker shades of morality by peering into the histories of objects and persons alike had served him well. When his new master had come for him, he had discovered almost immediately that there were others who he'd planned to bring to his cause…as bantha fodder to be thrown at Jedi, sacrificed like brittle blades against a mountainside when their foes were more than snivelling padawans or those Jedi too inept to be truly called warriors. His worth had been proven to be far in excess of those of what he and his ilk called 'the Brethren', those endowed with the name of Brother or Sister under the oversight of the Emperor's right hand. Instead of being constrained to parlour tricks and gimmicks intended to frighten rather than serve any practical purpose, his yearning for more had been granted.

Yet the Force itself did not open itself to him as it once had. It was like it had recognized that he was no longer the curious spirit driven by a genuine desire to know more for the sake of broadening his mind…and instead the meticulous hunter of those he'd once called kin. Did it sense the taint of darkness that had twisted his academic passion into an almost carnal fixation? Was it refusing him because it viewed his new state as a betrayal?

Regardless of the answer, meditation no longer came to him as it once did.

Instead he found it in reviewing his latest prey.

He was perched cross legged in the centre of a storm of holo-net reports that encircles him at rapid pace. One arm outstretched, body suspended off of the floor and eyes shut, his mind reached out to brush every panel that slid past his finger tips until one drew his interest and was selected, diverting it to a storage file for later review. While focused on his task he was not so engrossed as to miss the sound of the door opening to admit Captain Errence Draven, a man he'd handpicked for ferrying him across the galaxy by virtue of his lacking any unforgivably annoying tendencies or failings.

"Lord-Inquisitor." The Captain greeted him. "The window has closed."

Already?

He repeated this thought aloud.

"Yes, my Lord."

Damn. Time flew by faster than anticipated.

"Shall we reposition to the next sector, my Lord?"

"No…not yet." The Huntsman decided after a moment of consideration. "The local data traffic here has illuminated a great deal to me."

Draven stepped in behind him to observe. "If I may ask: what is the pattern this time, Lord-Inquisitor?"

"Imperial units that have been raided without any definitive descriptions of the culprit or culprits, as well as evidence of either lone individuals or small teams being responsible." The Huntsman selected another file and then began to narrow down his search. "Now I am removing any of these events where civilian casualties are involved."

"You believe that the Master cares for that?" Draven inquired. "Then again, I suppose it makes sense. His confirmed activities have been in relatively isolated settings."

"Not all of them. You forget, Captain…the Jedi Code is an addiction that is not easily discarded." The Huntsman had the computer halt the rotations. "Even those who have spent years away from the high hallowed halls of the Jedi Order struggle to reconcile their circumstances with their pious upbringing. This Jedi has learned well to adapt to his circumstances, but a pattern of behaviour shines through nonetheless."

He displayed the files he'd selected. "Observe."

Draven peered closely. "A prisoner breakout in the Cyrian system. An Imperial garrison robbed without any surveillance footage to speak of. Destruction of military property." He rubbed his chin. "Property that was in possession of a swoop gang."

"The planetary Governor was paying them to run farmers off their lands for access to a mineral vein." The Huntsman explained. "Rather than wait for them to come to him as a hunter in waiting might be encouraged, he sought them out on their own turf. The governor tried to suppress it, but an unknown source leaked the information. I suspect you already know whom we may thank for that."

"Our Jedi Master fancies himself a champion of the people." Draven surmised.

"Our Jedi seeks to balance his addiction and his necessities." The Huntsman corrected. "He primarily operates in the Outer Rim, with some excursions as far as the Mid Rim, mostly along the galactic 'central-east' quadrant between here…and here." He drew a line between two points on a galactic map using his fingers. "He remains mobile, likely with an inconspicuous freighter as many criminals and terrorists do for the sake of practical necessity. But above all else…he has a child accompanying him, a fact which is far harder to disguise. A child with a lightsaber."

Draven rubbed at his chin with a gloved hand. "I'm surprised that there haven't been more sightings of them."

"As I said: the Master has adapted. He knows to conceal his true nature." The Huntsman reiterated. "but even as he conceals it he is still a slave to it. This pattern shall continue to develop, and it will lead us right to him."

Try as he might, Draven could not suppress a sour note of scepticism at the Inquisitor's words. "Forgive me, Lord-Inquisitor, but even if all of these events are by the same individual as you have deduced, the galaxy is still big enough that you might never find him."

"Worry not, Captain." The Huntsman replied serenely. "Despite your lack of faith, at least one aspect of the Force remains my ally, and there is little that it cannot accomplish in the right hands. As a matter of fact…it tells me that we may encounter our wayward Jedi very soon."

Xxx

Outer Rim, Tyrakhan, Tyra City, Retention Yard

The retention yard, as the name suggested, was built to store crates for offloading or for transfer between ships. As a secondary function it was where those flagged for randomized searches went as well. Tyra City, having been built more as a gargantuan Starport with some residential divisions attached so as to support hundreds of mining towns within its sphere of influence, had almost one tenth of its total area taken up by this district. All around there were towers of crates, fleets of droid operated loader platforms and a small army of lumbering lifter Mechs repurposed from the days of the war to keep this logistical nightmare stable.

It was also lightly manned by organic overseers, which made Darion's job somewhat easier.

"Left."

Darion checked first and then darted around the corner. "How far?"

"You're really close. I think…another minute or two."

"I'd prefer a distance." Darion insisted under his breath as he kept checking roof tops and corners for signs of a missed sentry.

"Just another right and…I count fifteen people."

Vasaro may have been rusty in duelling, but in the use of the Force he'd never lost his edge. As Darion had infiltrated the retention yard and dodged his way past multiple guards, Vas had been on the other end of the Comm link and peering through the Force, using his fledgling bond to Darion in order to centre his perceptions on the man and peer outwards from him, driving his sight through durasteel and duracrete alike.

"Wait…fifteen." Darion recounted the number Vance had given him: ten. "Can you sense if some are storm troopers?

"I think so…three, maybe four?"

Acceptable margin of error since Darion was going in expecting five anyways. He'd just keep an eye out if the fifth wasn't visible right out the gate.

Following Vasaro's directions took him to a walkway four storeys off the ground, peering out from between two towers to find that one of the flat loader platforms had been appropriated by a group of four Imperial soldiers and an officer accompanied by a droid.

"…don't care if for whom it is intended." The officer told the droid sternly. "The fact of the matter is that it is scanner shielded and therefore could be hiding anything."

"In order to open it, I would need to contact the Dock Warden." The droid explained. "This may cause a delay as long as fifteen minutes depending on how preoccupied he is."

Displeased by this, the officer pushed the droid aside. "Bring up the plasma cutter." He commanded, and two of his men hurried with a cumbersome device that required them both to position it on a tripod in front of the crate. "Cut this thing open, and we'll see just what someone is so desperate to hide."

"I really must protest!" The droid exclaimed. "This goes entirely against protocol!"

"Your protocol is far below my mandate, droid." The officer sneered. "Now keep out of the way and be quiet."

His men finished setting up the plasma cutter. "Ready, sir!"

"Proceed!"

Darion felt a surge of fear from within the crate. Someone…someone inside was aware of what was about to happen. That fear retained a tint of aggression, like a cornered animal ready to strike out.

If he didn't do something, the Inquisition would be brought down on this whole planet!

"Stop!" He stepped out into view, one arm raised. "Do not open that!"

One of the troopers turned their blaster on him, but Darion made sure his other hand was visibly empty. The bulk of the long coat he wore, typical for such a chilly climate, concealed his weapons easily.

"And who are you to command His Majesty's Imperial Forces?" The officer demanded. "I said start cutting!"

"You don't want to do that, Lieutenant!" Darion insisted, lacing his words with a subtle command that nudged the minds of the two men manning the cutter. "I have information about what that is carrying…and why you need to leave it be."

The officer stormed towards him. "I am not in the habit of taking orders from civilians."

Darion lowered his voice as the officer came in close. "I am ISB."

The man stiffened, his shock giving Darion the opening to discreetly apply further commands.

"You…are ISB." The man repeated in a whisper.

"I just gave you an ID code you recognized. It is from ISB. It is authentic."

"You just…gave me an ID code I…recognize." The officer recited with a glazed expression. "It is…from ISB. It is…authentic."

"That crate is carrying something important to the security of the Empire." Darion felt the beginnings of a pulsing ache in his temple.

"That crate is carrying something important to the security of the Empire."

"It must not be disturbed."

"It must not be disturbed."

"Fall out."

The officer turned back to his fire team. "Fall out, troops." He said, still sounding a little dazed but quickly recovering. "We are leaving."

A Corporal looked uncertain. "Are you sure, sir?"

"Do not question me, Corporal!"

"Yes, sir!" The Corporal waved the other troopers back. "Pack it up! We're leaving."

"Oh thank the maker." The droid droned in relief and looked to Darion. "But who are you? I don't re-"

"Take the droid with you and have its memory wiped." Darion instructed, no longer needing to compel the officer now that the man was genuinely convinced of the narrative he'd spun.

"Come along, droid." The officer grabbed the droid by the arm and dragged it aboard the platform. "No more questions." He cleared his throat and gave Darion a respectful nod. "Have a good day."

"To you as well. Long live the Emperor." Darion nodded and watched as the platform withdrew away from the walkway, vanishing behind a set of crate stacks nearby.

"That could have been bad." Darion muttered.

"Is everything alright?" Vasaro asked.

"Yeah, just had to…" Darion leaned a hand against the crate he'd sought. "Had to pour more effort into that then I'd have liked."

It was not exertion that assailed him so much as the cracks in his defences that had formed from so many mind tricks and commands slapped atop one another on rapid succession.

"I'll be alright." Darion assured Vas and slid a data spike into the locking mechanism. "R3, just uplinked you to the crate. Get it open."

Whoever was inside had realized the danger had passed, but they were still uncertain…nervous…but that was better than before.

After a few seconds the lock's various layers finished rotating and clicked into place, causing the crate to open up. Multiple forms inside shielded their eyes and ducked down out of sight, save for that of a pink skinned Twi'Lek holding…

"It's alright, Jedi." Darion held out a placating hand. "Could you kindly put the lightsaber away before someone sees?"

Looking surprised by his greeting, the young woman reluctantly moved to attach the inactive hilt to her belt. Its design was unconventional, aside from its green tinted alloy it possessed a pommel that better resembled a grappling hook with several curved prongs that looked like they would easily hook onto flesh or edges. Its owner looked several years his junior, her presence in the Force shrouded much in the way any Jedi wishing to avoid detection would have it.

"Somewhere not visible to the naked eye, please." Darion amended his previous request. "A pocket? Pouch? A backpack?"

Now looking flustered, she nonetheless stuffed the hilt into a pouch hanging off of her hip. "Sorry."

"It's alright. I suspect you've had a long trip." Darion looked to the other refugees; three children and seven adults. "Any other Jedi among you?"

"No…just me." The woman replied awkwardly. "Everyone else here…"

"Is just trying to survive." Darion finished for her with a nod. "I get that. Come on, let's get you all out of here." He beckoned. "Keep your heads down and follow me. Vance Buur-Hal sent me when you got redirected here."

Mention of the local Path leader put some of them at ease. The Twi'Lek was looking at him curiously, though he couldn't feel her attempting to probe at his mind.

"Are you coming, or what?" He asked once she was the only one left in the crate.

"Uh-yeah!" She nodded and hurried out after the others, with Darion bringing up the rear to watch for Imperial probe droids or air patrols that might take interest in the rag-tag group of refugees.

"Vas, meet us by the tram stations." Darion instructed. "Keep out of sight."

"Yes Mr Helion, but what if I get found?"

"Then you're a lost child separated from your uncle and looking for him. Make sure you look the part."

Xxx

Vasaro's affinity for sensing the presence of others was a miracle for this mission. All of the benefits without him being anywhere near the actual danger- supposing that he did as he was told. He'd actually remained in the publicly accessible areas while directing Darion through the Retention Yard, simply appearing to be a young boy reading a book and waiting for his uncle if anyone asked.

When Darion gave him the signal, he'd closed the book and made his way towards the tram stations. Tyra City was the hub through which resource extraction operations got their goods off world and brought in workers and equipment for more mining operations. This was expedited by a vast network of repulser train lines that wound into the surrounding mountains. It was in a restricted area, but the security there was less extensive; just a single locked door with a camera that was one among many monitored from a nearby security tower. This changed whenever there was something valuable coming through or a large amount of workers that would require more thorough inspections for saboteurs or fugitives, but as it stood there was nothing scheduled to head out for several more hours. This made it the ideal time for a hijacking.

Keeping one eye towards the security camera shifting its gaze back and forth across the mustering yard outside the tram station, he timed his approach and used a gentle nudge to slow down the camera's turn enough for him to slip past unnoticed and reach the door. Vasaro slid a data spike into the lock panel and signalled Reggie, who remotely unlocked it in short order. He released the camera, plucked the data spike and slipped inside, closing the door behind him.

The tram station held several trains currently not in use. But the schematics that Reggie had lifted from the archives had marked the location of the yard master's console clearly, and it was easy enough to spot from the entrance. He made his way to the enclosed control room overlooking the station, locked the door behind him and began to position one of the unused trains on the northbound track- just as according to plan. The controls proved simple enough despite his lack of familiarity, likely to ensure that minimal training would be needed for replacing operators; he quickly had a control car mounted to a northbound track and attached to a line of empty cargo modules.

As he put the finishing touches on his work, he felt a shiver shoot up his spine and recalled Darion's earlier words.

One thing to remember about being a Jedi is to maintain awareness of your surroundings.

As the door to the control booth unlocked, Vasaro swiftly input a series of preset commands to finish the assembly, reset the console and then leapt up in time to avoid being seen by an Imperial soldier who stuck his head in. As quick sweep of the room with his rifle was followed by the trooper approaching the controls and examining the screen to find that there was no indication of it having been used in the last several seconds aside from the mechanical arms shifting train modules together outside.

"Sergeant, I'm at the controls. Nobody here." The trooper reported, opening the control interface.

"Sure is a lot of activity over there being caused by nobody, Private."

"Yes Sergeant, but the room was locked and I'm the only one here. Looks like a series of automated commands are being executed."

"Alright, shut the system down once it finishes cycling through and then come back."

"Shouldn't I cancel it, Sergeant?"

"No, that'll make the system lock down. It's picky that way. I'll inform the higher ups and get a slicer over there to look it over. Wouldn't be the first time that someone accidentally copied over an old assembly order for a train that's already gone out."

"Hate to be them, hate to be their wallet after the director docks their pay." The Private chuckled as he watched the train finish assembling, leading to the screen lighting up green. "Alright, looks done. Shutting down."

"Another glorious day in his Majesty's Imperial Army."

"Long may he reign." The Private drawled as he shut down the controls and left. "Wouldn't hurt if he gave us a raise along the way. Blood Stormtroopers."

The door shut, and several seconds later Vasaro exhaled in relief before letting go of the thick bundles of cables and metal beams that he'd pinned himself between. He dropped down and landed with a bit of a stumble. He watched as the trooper left the station before double checking the time.

"Come on, Master Helion…" He mumbled before wincing. "Mr. It's Mr Helion."

At the far end of the station, another doorway opened and figures poured in from the side entrance leading to the Retention Yard. Among them he saw Darion, standing taller than the rest and clad in his dark overcoat, looking directly towards Vasaro who made his way out to join them on the platform.

"Had any trouble?" Darion asked while waving the refugees aboard the newly assembled train.

"Almost, but nobody saw me." Vasaro shook his head.

"Atta boy." Darion smiled, clapping Vasaro on the shoulder while ushering him aboard as well. "Get someone who knows how to get this thing moving in the cockpit. I'll open the security gate and hop on before you reach 'Darion splattering' speeds."

"Yes mas- Mr Helion!" Vasaro mentally kicked himself again and hurried to obey the order.

Darion shook his head. "Eh, kids." He began to run towards the exit point of the station where reinforced barricades were set to prevent exactly what he and Vasaro were about to do. Luckily, in an ironic twist the Empire had opted for a low-tech solution that couldn't be remotely hijacked by droids: a pair of mechanical levers behind a locked gate leading to a walkway overlooking the track.

Unfortunately for them, they weren't dealing with a droid.

Darion held out his hands and closed them, feeling the cold metal handles through the material of his gloves as if he was really touching them. Easing both arms back, he watched as the levers shifted and, with a heavy groaning sound of shifting weights and mechanisms, the barricades were lifted out of the way just as the train began moving.

But that was when he felt it…

The cold…not that natural brisk chill of this climate but the kind of cold that dug into him like an icy spike to his heart.

I see you…

Xxx

Oriena

"I see you…Master Jedi." The Huntsman raised his head and opened a new window, bringing with it a wall of information on Tyrakhan that he devoured until he reached a line of text that was of interest to him.

Inquisitorial Asset 4339, assigned to supervise special operations. Present location: Sector Command Ship, ISD Crucible.

He knew which asset that was…and it would work perfectly for his needs. How fortunate that there had already been suspicions of those gifted with the Force gathering in that area. Ever since the fall of the Order the Force had gone from being a flood with the lights of thousands of Jedi to dim mire marked by the distant, fleeting pulses of far flung Force users. This made detection of their ilk paradoxically both simpler…and more difficult. This was why his services were too valued to be wasted on the Brethren Inquisitorious…he was undeniably qualified to sniff out those who were most adept at concealment, those too strong for pawns to track and kill of their own accord.

Now he had picked up the scent…now he knew where his prey dwelled.

"Captain Draven, we have new coordinates: Tyrakhan." The Huntsman dismissed the screens around him. "And send a message to the ISD Crucible: tell their Sector Commander that I am appropriating an Inquisitor presently operating under his command under Inquisitorial Mandate. Add a secondary message informing that Inquisitor of their new orders to proceed to Tyrakhan where he will fall under my command. After that…prepare every gunship you have for armed pursuit and have your troopers ready to deploy by the time we reach orbit."

Would that he could be there in an instant, but even he was not so precognitive that he could have sniffed out the trail before there ever was one. Still, even from a few parsecs away he could entrust the hunt to another until he arrived.

After all, what is any hunter without their hound?

Xxx

Tyrakhan, Tyra City Tram Station

"…Helion!"

Darion blinked and realized that the front of the train was moving past him while he'd been standing still as a statue. Vasaro was standing at one of the side doors, calling out to him.

"Get on! Hurry!" The boy shouted.

Without thinking, Darion launched himself through the air and landed on one of the cargo models occupied by empty crates, landing just before the train passed into the tunnel and picked up speed. Darion remained crouched where he'd landed, breathing heavily as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Someone had found him…someone who had been reaching out specifically for him. It had been like some nocturnal predator spying through pitch black to pick out its prey from afar before swooping down to devour its meal.

Someone knew he was on Tyrakhan…and they knew because he'd opened up again.

When was he going to learn?

"Did you just jump on board?!"

Darion looked up to see that the after door to the car ahead was occupied by the pink skinned twi'lek from before, staring at him with a sense of wonder that he hadn't seen since before the Empire.

"You're a Jedi, aren't you?" She asked, stepping forward and closing the door behind her. "I- I felt something when we first met but I…I didn't know for sure."

Darion sighed and stood up. "Not for a long time." He shook his head. "And I'd appreciate it if you kept that quiet."

"Right!" She nodded quickly. "Right, you don't want people knowing. That's fine. That's perfectly fine."

The train began to speed up more the hum of repulsor lift thrusters making it harder for them to hear one another while standing out in the open.

"How about we head inside?" Darion phrased it as a suggestion. "I don't like the idea of freezing my face off out here once we leave this tunnel."

"Yeah, yeah that's a good idea…" The twi'lek agreed, but paused as she reached for the door. "Oh…and my name's Flara, by the way."

"Charmed to meet you, Flara." Darion nodded. "Now…before my nose starts to go numb?"

Xxx

The train left Tyra City before the Imperials even knew it was gone. Some efforts were made to call for its return, but Darion disabled the comm systems without issue and went to check on the refugees. The control car of the train was designed to be inhabited for several days at a time for long journeys across the continent, which came as a welcome surprise to people who'd spent days in a cargo crate questionably modified for inhabitation. Beds, seats, even Imperial MREs and a working water filtration system allowed them to feel like monarchs in comparison to their prior accommodations.

"We're only taking you so far as the next rendezvous point." Darion explained to the group as they gathered in a lounge. "After that, Buur-Hal's people will guide you from there and get you off world."

"Why did we come here in the first place?" One of them asked, not rudely. "Why come here only to then leave again?"

"Tyrakhan's atmosphere and terrain are known to play hell with comms and scanners at any significant distance." Darion explained. "By now the Imps back in the city can't even tell where we are because the track that we're on splits at different junctions and Buur-Hal's people sabotaged the traffic system weeks ago to send false positives- they probably regret not taking the time to fix that now."

Like I always say: give me incompetent and arrogant enemies. But better yet, give me enemies who are credit pinchers.

"They'll need to send fighters to check every inch of these mountains, and the same applies to any ships in orbit. When the time is right, you'll all be transported off on a ship shielded against scanners so that you can slip past the Imperial blockade. The Empire won't have any clue that you're gone."

"Then…we'll finally be safe?" Another asked, cradling her sleeping child in her lap.

"Safer." Darion nodded. "I didn't ask for specifics, but Buur-Hal said that his group specializes at getting people like you as far from the Empire as possible. So far that…this might as well be considered a one way trip. Hope you were all told that."

"I don't care if it is." A young man who couldn't have even been twenty shook his head. "I'm tired of running. Even if they send us to some backwater rock on the rim, I'll take it over running from the Red Blades."

There appeared to be no dissenters among the group. Perhaps whatever fate that awaited them at the end of this path just seemed that preferable compared to what the Empire would do to them.

"Vas." Darion turned his attention a more immediate concern. "Do you still have the case I told you to get?"

Vasaro nodded and hopped to his feet, lifting his backpack and opening it to reveal the metal case labelled K-1, taken right from one of the smuggler compartments on the Renegade Star. "Right here, Mr Helion."

"Good." Darion took it and set it on a clear table. "I brought this on the off chance that we ran into Purge Troopers. Would've been hard to carry it in plain sight but now that that's no longer a concern…" He finished tapping in a code and opened it to reveal two objects therein: one of them a series of straps and plated metal components that slid onto his non-dominant arm…and the other a sword! Or rather a large dagger, a vibroblade better suited for a dark alley than the field of battle.

He slid it into an accompany scabbard which was hidden under his coat. "No reason to walk around half-armed anymore."

"Does that mean I should also get my-" Vas lowered his voice and concealed his lips behind one hand as he mouthed 'lightsaber' to Darion, "-out as well?"

"Sure, just make sure you look the part for it." Darion nodded, wisely avoiding any mention of what that meant. "If the Empire catches up to us somehow we'll want anonymity after this."

He didn't want to cause a panic by implying that someone absolutely was coming…possibly an Inquisitor.

Vasaro nodded and made to leave, but paused and glanced towards Flara. He could feel the nervous anxiety rippling out from the Twi'lek. He gave Darion an inquisitive look and was waved off.

"I'll go man the sensors to be safe." Darion continued. "You, Flara, mind joining me? Best to do it in pairs."

She looked startled at being called upon, but nodded and followed him out in a hurry. The sensor suite was at the top of the control car and isolated enough for the talk she was so eager and nervous for.

Once the door was closed he sighed. "Alright, ask your questions."

Xxx

End of Chapter