Chapter 46

Be Well, My Angry Angel

Little Galen sat alone, gazing skyward. His parents never talked about stellar travel.

His mom said nothing could be gained wishing for a life you'd never have.

Then she died, living the lie of a dream until she starved.

For a long time he didn't dare to dream. Until he met The Nothing Man. Galen learned that he could create his reality, if only he listened to his teacher. Together, they could make the galaxy perfect.

Palmer slithered down beside him, smiling furtively. "Hello, young man."

"Hi, Mister Palmer."

"I wanted to thank you for my knee. I've never seen that magic, not even on Dathomir."

Galen was genuinely happy. "You're welcome, sir."

"How did you do it?"

"It's a secret. I promised not to tell."

"Magicians have a code. I certainly understand," Palmer beguiled him. "But try bending the rules just this once. I'll take it to the grave, on my Jedi honor."

Galen didn't grasp the distinction between current and former Jedi. Thus he took the oath to heart.

For some time he'd yearned to share the weight with another. He loved Wilk more than anything, but Wilk wouldn't understand. Already the wolf feared Galen's power. Couldn't he tell Mister Palmer—only Mister Palmer?

"Evening, gentlemen," Landon approached.

The boy's head snapped up. "Hello, Mister Landon."

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Palmer said, "Not at all. As a matter of fact, I wanted to talk to you." He rose to his feet and told Galen: "I'll be right back, son."

He followed Landon to discrete distance. Inside was the frozen rage he'd spent his life carving.

"Look, Trask," Landon growled, "I don't want you talking to him. Ever. Do you hear me?"

How precious that this scoundrel—this jester—thought genuflecting to Kenobi made him less of an amusement.

"I hear a bird squawking at a lion," Palmer said. "Not only is it inferior. Not only could the lion tear it from the sky and lay bare its organs. The lion knows the bird's terrible secret..."

Landon's brow wrinkled, and he was very still.

Palmer smiled cruelly. "And so the lion tells the bird, 'Never again will you squawk. If you do, all the little chicks will learn what happened to the one called Miler.'"

Behind the scoundrel's stony countenance, the seed of fear bloomed into fields of poisoned thorns. Landon blinked and made a fist, but did absolutely nothing.

Landon set down Galen, turning so he blocked Palmer's view. But he avoided his eyes.

Bramble partially secreted the entrance to the cave. Obi-Wan cleared it impatiently. For his trouble, thorny twigs cut and stabbed him.

The camouflage gone, he shined his beacon inside. At ground level there was only a small ledge. The cavern floor proper was thirty feet down.

Wilk posited, "Vorka's ruffians are here already."

"I think we go in small, Boss," Landon told Obi-Wan. "The others follow..."

"Just me and Kenobi," Brummel interjected.

Obi-Wan turned quizzically. Brummel worked his jaw and said, "The Force showed me its will. I'll give it one last shot before I spit in its eye."

"It's a bad idea, Boss," Landon said.

Obi-Wan smiled puckishly. "The will of the Force so often is. But I won't ignore it. We'll clear the way alone. The rest of you—"

"—will take the mountain pass," Brummel interrupted. "There's another way into the cave. Find it and meet us."

Palmer said, "And what if we can't find it?"

"Aren't you a mystical archaeologist?" Coda mused. "Put yer back into it."

Obi-Wan pursed his lips, meeting Padme's worried stare. Whatever message the Force had delivered to Brummel, it didn't reach Obi-Wan. To follow its will second-hand required a leap of faith. But that's all this mission was.

Brummel breezed past, shocking Coda when he lightly grasped her. His touch glided along her arms, along her shoulders and neck. He took her face in his leathered hands. Coda's heart pulsed in her neck.

His lips brushed hers in introduction and promise. By the time she could process it, he was already pulling back.

Coda took his hand, squeezed it to her heart, crying tears of elation. She was certain that in the two million years wiped from her mind, she'd never felt so free, so cosmically alive as she did right now.

She shut her eyes and attacked him with a hug. Brummel's arms awkwardly encircled her.

"Be well, my angry angel," Coda whispered.

Obi-Wan dropped off the ledge, plunging thirty feet to the cavern floor.

All around him was stone, dimly lit by neon-blue lichen. On either side were two statues inset from the walls.

Above, vine and stalactites hung partly visible from the endless dark.

At Obi-Wan's feet was a skeleton: femurs snapped, skull fissured. A light breeze, wisping through the hollows of the massive cavern, rustled these bones like a waking ghost.

Brummel dropped down beside him. His eyes narrowed, and he sniffed the air. "We're not alone here."

"I sense something else... elusive..."

"Worry about what's in front of you," Brummel said.

Obi-Wan advanced, crunching pebbles underfoot. "You never told me what you saw in your vision."

"That's right. I didn't."

"I saw Padme," Obi-Wan told him. "I saw our children, and my friends, of which you were miraculously one."

"The Force is mysterious."

"I think I could make it real, when all this is over."

Brummel's voice was deliberately terse. "It could be over in this cave. Then what?" His counterpart faltered, face pulling toward its center.

"She's not a bad woman," Brummel said. "And that is a compliment. You're not a safe bet, but she still came with you. Give her something before you die."

Obi-Wan was silent. Every word that came to mind was eaten by logic, leaving crumbs of excuses, stale and worthless. In truth, nothing prevented him from acting on his love.

"You're a little bleak for a matchmaker," Obi-Wan said.

"Yeah, well—" The men froze, hearing voices.

Straight ahead, the path was blocked, forcing them to climb to the next plateau—or cut through endless stalagmites, which flanked the plateau like pits of spikes.

Obi-Wan leapt twenty feet, planting his climbing knife. He hung a moment before finding a foothold.

"This is ridiculous," an Angry Man barked. He kicked some pebbles over the edge, into Obi-Wan's face. "We're in the middle of the jungle! Does he think some Jedi—"

Obi-Wan threw himself into a somersault. Mid-air he found targets: two unready mercs.

He kicked Angry Man's shoulder, sent him falling to the pit, where stalagmites impaled him.

Obi-Wan's saber threw off a blaster bolt. He rolled by merc two, cutting his knees. Then popping to a crouch, he took his head.

Under the pile of severed parts, a comlink cried: "Davies, report! Was that blaster fire?"

Brummel joined him, wearing his skeleton mask. With a flick of the Force he crushed the comlink.

He walked to the end of the plateau. Down below were two islands surrounded by water, across which the path continued.

A group of mercs privy to the blaster fire snapped their rifles. "Up there! The Sentinel!"

Brummel flipped through the air, waving away every shot. He grabbed a man with the Force, pulled him like a doll so they met mid-air, and thrust his claws through his skull. He jammed a grenade in the corpse's mouth. Then he hurled the body, knocking two men down.

They exploded in a shower of flaming flesh and metal. Brummel landed among the fire—retarded by his suit—taking stock of the final two mercs.

He drew at once his blade and blaster. His hurled saber cut one man in half; the other fell to his gun, a smoking hole at the center of his head.

"Wother, report! … Donnelly, come in! … Does anybody read me?! Sing, are you out there?!" A second, calmer voice jumped on the com: "No more chatter. Fall back for reassignment."

Brummel grinned darkly. "Gather up, little boglings..."

Obi-Wan dropped down, noting the blasted corpse. "So uncivilized."

"Do you have any plagues I can borrow?"

Obi-Wan winced. "Are you going to use that every time?"

"'Til you do something worse."

Across the lake, they scaled another wall. At the top they looked out on a great chasm. Two pitiful posts, rotted lean, suggested a bridge crumbled thousands of years ago.

Here the ceiling was lower, rife with stalagtites, so as to resemble a crown turned over. Vines like cables hung at various lengths, the only good option to traverse the abysm.

On the other side were three boulders, raised ten feet from a flat, winding path.

"What do you think?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Age before beauty."

"Well, I can't go twice."

"As handsome as Yoda, as humble as Windu," Brummel said.

"And as droll as myself."

Obi-Wan called a vine to his hand.

"You are so very Jedi," Brummel said.

"I will take that in the spirit it wasn't intended."

Obi-Wan leapt forward, swinging over the chasm. The air cooled his ruddy face, blowing open a door in his mind's eye, and on the other side was sweet Padme, smiling gently, wearing—

Obi-Wan yelled. The vine was gone and he was falling. Burning stone shrapnel rained from above. Pelting his face. Making holes in his tunic.

Large chunks of stalactite followed like meteors. He threw them clear with the Force. Then called another vine. One hand caught it, and one arm held him up, the tork of his sudden stop almost tearing his shoulder.

He swallowed a scream and climbed.

On the other side of the chasm a merc with a jetpack hung in the air, wielding a shoulder-mounted cannon.

Suddenly a stalactite—as thick as Kenobi—ripped from the ceiling to hover beside him. Blessing Brummel's timing, he used it as a ramp.

The merc aimed and fired.

Obi-Wan leapt as the rock exploded in flame. The shockwave hurled him at the merc.

Flying past he caught a strap on the jetpack. The men spun through the air like vertigo dancers. Reaching the other the side, they tumbled on the ground.

The merc rose first, resetting his cannon. Obi-Wan called a rock and jammed it in the barrel.

The cannon exploded, blasting super-heated metal in every direction, melting the merc's face, before he vanished inside a black mushroom cloud and fell burning down the chasm.

Obi-Wan instantly turned—saber ignited.

Six mercs ran toward him, unloading blasters. Every bolt met whirring blue. Two men fell to reflected fire.

The remaining four, drawing swords, made a circle around him.

"Let's talk," Obi-Wan said. "It would please me greatly—"

A Man rushed, swinging high. Obi-Wan ducked, grabbed the Man's holstered blaster, and gunned down his three comrades. He ducked another swing. He grabbed the Man by the belt and threw him down the chasm.

There was motion down the path. He saw a sniper on a ledge. Three mercs assembled an E-Web cannon.

"Not that again..."

"I've got it," Brummel said.

"Where have you been?"

"Don't be critical."

Brummel advanced with outstretched arm. In his mind he saw the cannon like a cosmic blueprint: every slide, bolt, and rivet. In moments he telekinetically crushed it.

Before the mercs could respond, they were lifted in the air.

A red rifle dot appeared on Brummel's chest. He heaved the three mercs at the sniper's perch. The sniper leapt clear, finding another ledge. The mercs' broken bodies flailed and fell.

Brummel turned his head to acknowledge Obi-Wan. When it swiveled back, the sniper was gone.

Obi-Wan said, "She's strong in the Force, but untrained."

"Don't get any ideas."

"Don't worry. I learned my lesson about padawans."

Brummel studied his grim face. "Self-flagellate in private. We're not done with these mercs."

They continued along the path, which fractured into many islands that led up to a narrow ridge. Beyond the ridge was a muddy slope that went on forever.

Measuring the nearest island, Obi-Wan Force-leapt. Two jetpack mercs appeared shooting blasters.

Obi-Wan's saber ignited mid-air. He landed true, batting away fire.

One merc hit his throttle, launching at the Jedi like a human missile. Obi-Wan lured him in, bending back at the last moment, slashing a line from neck to stomach. It pierced the merc's armor but didn't kill him.

Obi-Wan flipped clear, the Second merc blasting his shadow.

Immediately upon landing he was forced to leap again. From island to island Obi-Wan jumped, dodging and blocking, waiting for his opening.

Brummel scaled the wall leading to the ridge, drawing the Second merc's eyes.

Obi-Wan hurled his saber, bisecting the jetpack. The Second fell from the sky, splattering below, body engulfed by a jetfuel explosion.

Up on the ridge the sniper appeared. Obi-Wan knew the face: Aurra Sing. Disillusioned padawan turned gun for hire. Lithe, albino, with just one clump of hair held back in a ponytail. Sing's strangely long fingers steadied her rifle.

Obi-Wan leapt to another ledge, catching his saber. He blocked her first shot, but the second grazed him. He tumbled from the ledge—but righted mid-air, landing on another.

Sing quickly retargeted. Brummel's hand shot up. He grabbed the barrel. Still hanging from the wall, he used his grip on the rifle to throw her from the ridge.

She caught a ledge and held on. But her rifle was lost.

Brummel stood on the ridge, firing down at her. To his surprise she drew a saber, batting away bolts with a crimson blade.

Sing leapt to an island. Obi-Wan met her, forcing her to parry. From there they traded blows standing in place.

A merc dove at Brummel, rockets on full. At the crucial moment, Brummel snapped his claws. Blood sprayed from the Merc. He crashed and exploded.

Sing threw a roundhouse that Obi-Wan ducked. He swept at her legs, but she leapt to a ledge, using it as a springboard to get to the ridge.

Brummel met her, claws hacking. Sing barely deflected his potent blows.

He went high with his claws, low with his saber. Sing dove between them, down the muddy slope.

She entered a crouch, skidding along the mud. Brummel pursued in like fashion. He tried to slow her with the Force, but Sing resisted.

At the bottom of the slope was a massive door. Five techs sought entry with plasma torches.

Sing tucked and rolled, coming up on her feet. One of the techs turned, seeing Brummel on the slope, and reached for a blaster.

Brummel tossed a grenade. Sing dove from the blast zone. Steel shrapnel massacred the techs. Feet, arms, fingers lay about like rotted meat. Entrails and blood palled the doors' hieroglyphs.

Skidding to the floor, Brummel stood over Sing. He called to the Force, lifting and choking her. Sing hung in the air grasping her throat.

Brummel's cool eyes portended no pity.

Sing rasped, "Burn... in hell... Jedi."

"I just might."

Brummel turned his clenched hand and heard something snap.

Sing fell with a thud.

He turned his head at a groan. Crawling across the bloody floor, through the hecatomb of techs, a lone survivor moaned and retched.

Brummel kicked away a blaster as Obi-Wan approached.

"You didn't question her?" Obi-Wan asked.

"No, but I left you this one."

Obi-Wan sat the man up, checking for injuries. Just superficial cuts. He'd been perfectly positioned behind another tech. "Tell me your name," Obi-Wan said.

"C—Callum Adler."

"Mister Adler, why are you here?"

"Why do you think? Because Vorka paid a fortune," he stammered. "He wanted the best engineer on the planet. And, well, that's me."

Brummel eyed the carnage. "It is now, at least."

Obi-Wan stood at the ancient doors, scored with glowing plasma in a horseshoe pattern. They'd barely made a dent. He doubted even his saber was up to the task.

The doors were marked with intricate carvings. He focused on a section where towering trees, like those of the jungle, bracketed a pathway, on which an anthropomorphized wolf carried a torch, lit not with fire but what looked like the letters of a long-dead language.

"Look, this was a job!" cried Callum. "A great job! I could've retired on this. He said there'd be ancient tech—like, real tech—not Early Man stuff. But that's all I know! Whatever's going on with you and Vorka—"

"Mister Adler, I will not harm you," Obi-Wan said.

Callum jumped as a purple blade burst through the cave wall. It carved out a door, before someone on the other side punched out the rock.

Palmer stepped through, followed by the crew.

Landon looked about. "Holy God."

Coda ran to Brummel, hugging him tightly, kissing his armor. She pulled back to assess him, finding him whole.

Padme saw the bleeding burn on Obi-Wan's arm. She took the medkit and set about wrapping it. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine..."

Bo-Katan noted the failed effort at melting the door. "How thick is this?"

"Too thick for a lightsaber," Brummel said.

Obi-Wan stretched his arm. "I don't see a mechanism, or a keyhole. Perhaps it opens one way."

"Maybe," said Coda, studying the carvings. "Or maybe it's a test."

Callum came from a dark corner. "Oh, please. Spare me the shamanic idiocy. It's just a door."

Everyone paused, heads turning at the tech.

Landon said, "Who the hell are you?"

"Ah, yes," Obi-Wan cringed, "this is Mister Adler. He came with Vorka's expedition. Please extend him your courtesy."

Landon scoffed, "Boss, this party's getting big..."

Coda ran her finger along the wolf carving. To the ancient Maretheans, the wolf symbolized Mercian scholars, known as Keepers of Words.

Her finger moved to the torch, and to the words that filled it in the shape of fire. The alphabet was the oldest known: first-era Marethene.

A slow grin spread over her face.

"Obi-Wan, the key is our voice," Coda laughed. "The key is our silly voices!"

He smiled hopefully.