Obliques: Peace's Price

"No matter what hypocrisy, perfidy, or vile deception your opponent commits, you must always remember one thing: It's okay when you do it."

Xim's Rules for Ruling

Year 57 of the 3rd Devaronian Cold War
11,347 TYA

Koltatha's mind and body were in agony but he charged on, because stopping meant death. He didn't stop even as Vediah writhed in his grip, even as they felt Sohr's dying pain. Gunshots cracked behind them but no bullets whipped past, not yet. The Kwa might buy them time to survive.

Sohr and Vediah were straining to understand what had happened, but to Koltatha it made perfect sense. The Devaron-ians had used the Jedi to dispose of their nuclear stockpiles, warming their cold war and creating a genuine chance for peace. But neither the Northern League nor Southern Alliance trusted the Jedi, and why should they? They were aliens, offworlders with strange abilities that couldn't be understood or countered.

Perhaps that was why the Jedi hadn't sensed the threat until it was too late. For months they'd been scouring the Devaronians for signs of dissension between them, but in this instance the League and Alliance were in perfect accord. Their peace treaty was to be signed with the Jedi's blood.

They should have never come here, Koltatha thought. Deception, betrayal, murder: all of these were of Bogan, the Force's dark side. Without the ability to sense the light side, the Devaronians naturally fell back to the tools of the dark.

Suddenly the gunfire stopped. Koltatha slowed, twisted back, and saw Master Sohr's heavy body collapse on the rooftop. The ancient Kwa's presence didn't fade but cried in final agony before disappearing. And his steel sword, the one kept hidden inside his walking-stick, released from his hand in mid-swing and went spinning through the air.

They couldn't afford to let a weapon go. Koltatha stopped, shoved Vediah away from him, and barked, "Go!" At the same time he summoned the Force to bring the sword to his hand.

The soldiers who'd killed Sohr were gathered around his body, looking down at it like they couldn't believe he was dead. But one by one they turned to the remaining two Jedi. By the time the first one opened fire, Sohr's weapon had just slapped into Koltatha's palm.

The Force was still running through him, desperately. He shoved away Bogan, pushed down his anger, and allowed it to guide his actions. His arms and wrists twisted to deflect one bullet with the hard metal, then another. He couldn't keep this up for long even with Ashla as his aid; the soldiers were running toward him now, firing too many bullets to catch.

Then an invisible arm wrapped around Koltatha's gut and pulled him along. It was Vediah, further down the roof, urging him forward. The Noghri ducked beneath the next spray of bullets and ran toward her, though his body cried in pain from the wounds he'd already taken.

They neared the end of the rooftop. Beyond was a five-meter gap, then the high wall around the military complex, topped with barbed and electrified wire. And beyond that: the Found Horizon, their only hope.

But first they had to get to it. When they reached the edge of the rooftop the Jedi didn't hesitate; they jumped, melding minds and calling on the Force, sharing their strength to lift them over the deadly wall. The Force guided them true, but in keeping them aloft it made them too-easy targets for the gunmen.

Koltatha had just cleared the fence when bullets sprayed past him. The last round caught his sword-hand and shattered it. The Noghri's concentration broke and he plummeted; a touch from Vediah was the only thing that kept him from injuring himself on the fall.

When they landed they were briefly safe. The wall and closed gate blocked the gunmen, but it wouldn't last long: more soldiers were coming, like a wave of malice. Koltatha clutched his bloody, broken hand to his chest and staggered for the Horizon. A touch of the Force commanded the ship to lower its landing ramp.

So near, but so far. The gates behind them were cranking open. Koltatha was too wounded to fight now; if they didn't reach the ramp in time they were dead.

"Go!" Vediah called to him. "I'll hold them back!"

He was startled to see the young Devaronian pluck Sohr's sword off the ground, grip it in two hands, and face the gate.

"Don't do it!" he called. If another one of them had to die it should have been him. She was barely more than a padawan and had shouldered the burden of this entire foolish mission. She shouldn't have to die for it too.

But Vediah didn't listen. Frantically, bleeding anger and desperation in the Force, she rushed to the gate as soon as it cracked open and stabbed her sword through the breach. Shots fired in response but she dodged them. Koltatha staggered for the ramp but kept looking back. He saw the gates open wide enough for two soldiers to spill through but before they could use their weapons Vediah hacked one through the knee and thrust her blade into the other's side. Their bodies fell, clogging the way for the others, but the gate was opening wider.

Koltatha reached the ramp and nearly collapsed. The Noghri looked back, saw Vediah standing at the gate with suicidal bravery, and called on the Force one last time. He grabbed the young Devaronian and pulled her to him.

She actually kicked against the dirt as he dragged her, like she was protesting salvation. Finding strength in his legs, Koltatha rose and carried her into the ship. Bullets whistled through the opening but he reared up, slammed the door controls, and brought the ramp up. It sealed shut with a comforting hiss, but bullets still ricocheted against the outer hull.

Those could do nothing to harm the Found Horizon, but there was no telling what other armaments their enemies could bring. They had to hurry.

"Come," Koltatha grunted, "I need you."

Vediah saw his broken, bloodied hand and stood. Together they hurried to the cockpit and began working its controls. The Horizon worked optimally with three crew but two would be enough. Vediah took the pilot's seat and gripped its yoke with both hands. Koltatha fell into the navigator's spot and stabbed buttons with his remaining fingers. The ship hummed to life around them. When Koltatha activated repulsorlifts, they rose on gusts of hot air.

Vediah twisted the ship to face the military base, then reached for weapons controls. No immediate threat was visible; her white face was twisted in a snarl. Koltatha's good hand dashed out to grab hers.

"Vengeance is of the dark side," he said firmly.

She looked into his eyes and spite faded from hers. Then she grabbed the control yoke, wrenched them toward the sky, and fired engines. The Horizon accelerated, pushing them back in their chairs. The viewport panned away from the outpost just in time to spot the flare of a short-range rocket exploding from a rooftop launcher.

They were too battered; their reactions were too slow. They failed to raise defenses and the rocket impacted against their underside. Emergency alarms went off, reporting hull ruptures.

"Go!" Koltatha called.

Vediah pushed them ahead, up through the clouds, out of range of more missiles. The ship shuddered as they pushed atmosphere's edge and Koltatha scoured the damage reports. Exterior breaches, damage to the second oxygen tank and the main water processor. Weapons still stable. Engines online, including hyperdrive.

They could get away from Devaron safely, assuming the readings were right. But what came after? The Found Horizon was a special ship that needed special parts to repair. Without finding somewhere to fix their water and oxygen systems, they were doomed to a slow end instead of a fast one.

When they reached the safety of orbit, Vediah finally released the controls. She huddled into herself, very small in Sohr's oversized pilot's chair.

"Why?" Vediah choked. Tears wet the soft down of her cheeks. "All we wanted to do was help them..."

"They didn't believe it," Koltatha said. "Their hearts were poisoned by suspicion and spite. They were blind to the Force, and blind to its light side."

"But Master Sohr..." she sniffed.

"I know."

Without the threat of death their physical pain began to overwhelm them. It radiated from Koltatha's broken hand up his arm and across his body. He didn't know how much of this agony he could stand; darkness encroached on his vision.

"Where do we go now?" Vediah sounded like a trembling child instead of a Jedi who'd faced down death.

"Infirmary," Koltatha managed to say.

"But after that..."

He didn't answer. It was too hard to speak; too hard to keep his eyes open. As he spilled from his chair and into the black, Koltatha wondered if there was anywhere in the galaxy that was truly safe for Jedi.