Authors: Paul Kemp
Reegas shouted above the tumult, his voice as high-pitched as a siren. “I want Khedryn Faal! Bring him to me!”
Jaden spotted Khedryn and Marr retreating toward the exit in a crouch. The sabacc player called Earsh fired his blaster at Khedryn. It missed wildly, but put a smoking black hole in the back of one of the dancing girls.
More screams, more panicked flight.
Neither Khedryn nor Marr returned Earsh’s fire, though both held blasters. Perhaps they feared hitting an innocent.
Earsh fired again, nicked Marr’s shoulder. The impact spun the Cerean around and knocked him to the floor. Khedryn grabbed him by his good arm and tried to heave him up. Earsh aimed another shot.
Jaden fell into the Force, used it to augment an upward leap, flipped, landed in front of Earsh, and drove his lightsaber right between Earsh’s surprised eyes, putting a smoking tunnel through his skull.
Jaden was already crossing lines he had hoped not to approach.
One of the cowering females nearby screamed as Earsh’s body hit the floor, the hole in his forehead a third eye staring accusations at Jaden. Even Reegas stopped and stared in wide-eyed wonder at Jaden and his lightsaber.
Jaden leapt into a Force-augmented backflip, nearly hit the ceiling, cleared half the room, and landed in front of Khedryn and Marr. Up close, he sensed a faint Force sensitivity in Marr. He wondered how he had missed it earlier.
“Stay behind me,” he said.
“I think we will,” Khedryn said, and finally got Marr to his feet.
The Weequay bodyguards must have carried extra weapons, for they appeared out of the churn near Reegas, each wielding a blaster in each hand. Their presence seemed to renew Reegas’s confidence.
“Kill them all!” Reegas shouted, his fat jiggling with rage.
The Weequay fired again and again. Jaden’s lightsaber was a humming blur of green, deflecting shot after shot. He angled the deflected shots to hit the ceiling and it soon looked like the cratered surface of a moon. He feared it might collapse before everyone cleared the room.
“This way,” Jaden said, and maneuvered Khedryn and Marr toward the wall.
With most of the spectators out and presented at last with a clear field of fire, Khedryn and Marr both finally answered with their own blasters. Khedryn hit one of the Weequay in the chest but the bodyguard—as Jaden had suspected—wore blaster-resistant armor under his clothing. The impact staggered him but barely put a pause in his fire.
“Heads only,” Khedryn said to Marr.
“Get down!” Jaden said, and booted over another table for them to use as cover.
Khedryn and Marr hit the floor behind the table while Jaden used his lightsaber to cut an exit in The Hole’s corrugated plasteel wall. The moment cost him, and a blaster shot clipped his shoulder. Pain ran the length of his arm, birthed anger. He spun, blade once more positioned to deflect the Weequay’s rapid fire, and tried to regain his calm.
“Out,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Cheat!” Reegas shouted after them. “You are a blasted cheat, Khedryn Faal!”
“I don’t cheat, you heap of bantha dung!” Khedryn spat back.
“Yes you do,” Jaden said, deflecting another pair of shots. A piece of metal came loose from the ceiling and fell to the floor with a crash. “Well, I did. I’ll explain. Just go.”
“What?” Khedryn said, his good eye fixed on Jaden, his lazy eye staring through the hole Jaden had cut in the wall. “Blast it all. I have a reputation here—”
Blasterfire sizzled into the wall and cut short his words. Jaden, holding his lightsaber in one hand, deflected a trio of bolts harmlessly to the ceiling.
“Go, Captain,” he said.
Marr fired two shots to get the Weequay down behind
the sabacc table and then all three piled through the hole.
They hit the night-shrouded street. Glow lamps and makeshift lighting cast the street in a patchwork of shadows. Patrons of The Hole were streaming out, shouting, cursing, pointing. Passersby stopped in the middle of the street to witness the commotion. An ankarax reared up on its hind legs, growling.
“You have transportation?” Jaden asked, feeling his arm to check the damage. Minimal.
“Who are you?” Marr asked.
“Yes, who are you?” Khedryn seconded.
“Your friend,” Jaden said, and deactivated his lightsaber.
“Well, I can’t argue with that,” Khedryn said. “Though I can’t say I expected to ever have a Jedi for a friend. Follow me.”
They darted through the street, through the crowd, pursued by shouts, until they reached a parked swoop and a speeder bike.
“A Searing,” Jaden said, admiring the raw lines of the swoop.
Khedryn nodded as he slid atop it. “Double up with me.” To Marr, he said, “Back to
Junker
and then off this rock until we can get things ironed out with Reegas.”
Marr fired up his speeder bike, wincing at the pain in his wounded arm.
“You all right?” Khedryn asked him.
“Yes,” Marr answered. “I am all right.”
Khedryn started to throttle the swoop, stopped. “Why do you stay with me anyway?” he asked Marr.
The Cerean looked puzzled by the question. “You are my friend.”
Khedryn stared at him a moment, seemingly at a loss. Jaden felt as if he had witnessed something private. He wondered if Marr knew he was Force-sensitive.
“I am that,” Khedryn said at last. He gathered himself and said over his shoulder to Jaden, “Meantime, whatever business you’re offering, it looks like we’ll take it.”
Shouts from the crowd sounded above the hum of the swoop’s engine.
“There! There they are!”
The Weequay burst out of the crowd, brandishing their blasters, searching the darkness for Khedryn, Jaden, and Marr.
“Time to go,” Khedryn said, and Jaden grabbed the handrails as the Searing blazed into the sky. A couple of halfhearted blaster shots followed them into the air, but soon they had left Farpoint and The Black Hole far behind.
“Did you see Flaygin get out?” Khedryn shouted to Marr.
“Who?” the Cerean asked.
“Flaygin.”
Marr frowned. “I do not know. I think so.”
Khedryn nodded and drove. Only Jaden heard him say, “I hope so.”
Kell had slid against the wall as the violence emptied the room. Screaming and shouting beings of all sorts had fled to the common area, then into the street. In the midst of the chaos, he watched Korr, Khedryn Faal, and the Cerean flee through a hole in the wall, watched Reegas, the fat human, order his Weequay bodyguards after them.
When it was over Reegas stood alone in the center of the suddenly quiet room, the king of so much flotsam, surrounded by toppled chairs and tables, scattered credits, spilled drinks, and four corpses, three of them still smoking from blasterfire.
Kell watched Reegas waddle to the body of the player at the sabacc table whom Jaden Korr had killed—Earsh.
Reegas stood over the corpse, toed it with his slippered foot, and shook his head. His breathing sounded like wind through a leaky window.
“Get me a drink!” he shouted over his shoulder to no one in particular.
No response. The common room was empty. Reegas cursed.
From outside, Kell could hear the report of more blasterfire, a few scattered shouts. He presumed Jaden Korr and the crew of
Junker
had escaped. No matter. Kell would be able to follow them. Their destination remained in the sabacc room. He would catch up to them later. He had seen the mesh of their lines, seen it intertwine with his own. He knew their fates were as one.
At the moment, he was hungry. Proximity to the Jedi had sharpened his appetite. And since he would soon be leaving Fhost, he could feed more freely. The ghost need not be so circumspect.
Reegas grunted, huffed, and slowly managed to lower himself to all fours. Still wheezing, he began scrabbling among the debris on the floor, no doubt looking for the data crystal that the tumult had sent flying.
Blocking Reegas’s perception, Kell slid in behind him, following him as he sifted through credits and the grime of The Hole’s floor.
“Where is it?” Reegas whispered between gasps. “Where is it?”
He threw aside credits, ice, glasses, until at last he hit upon what he sought and held it aloft as it were a trophy. The clear data crystal shimmered in the light of the overheads.
“Got you!”
With another series of grunts and wheezes, Reegas put his feet under his girth and rose.
“Now for some keela,” he said.
Kell stepped around to stand before him and let his perceptual screens drop.
Reegas’s eyes fixed on Kell, widened. His mouth opened.
Kell held a finger to his lips for silence while their
daen nosi
danced in the space between them.
Be still and silent
, Kell projected.
Reegas sagged, his brow wrinkled in a question, but he did as he was instructed. Kell took the data crystal from Reegas’s slack fingers, placed it in the pocket of his jacket. He felt Reegas resisting the shackles of Kell’s command, but only weakly.
Kell smiled, took Reegas by the shoulders, stared into his eyes, and freed his feeders. Reegas’s mental resistance intensified. He struggled against Kell’s grasp, opened his mouth as if to scream, but managed nothing more than a stifled gasp.
The feeders squirmed up Reegas’s nostrils, burst through tissue and into the brain beyond. Reegas stiffened as blood leaked from his nose.
Kell fed. His consciousness broadened, but the weak soup of Reegas’s mind gave only the barest hints of Fate’s purpose. Kell’s consciousness drifted back to give him perspective, and he saw the network of
daen nosi
that composed the universe, the sum of the choices of all sentient beings, but he perceived no order, merely an inchoate design with no meaning.
Irritated and disappointed, he devoured all of Reegas’s sentience, all he was and would be, with minimal satisfaction. Reegas was sustenance, nothing more. He withdrew his feeders, slick with the bloody stew of the human’s mind, but let them dangle from his face. Reegas’s body fell to the floor with a thud.
The emptiness in Kell yawned, and he gave it a name: Jaden Korr. Now more than ever he knew he would
learn the truth of Fate only when he dined on the soup of the Jedi. Fate had brought them both to The Hole. Fate would bring them both to the moon of Krayt’s vision. There, Kell would have revelation. The coordinates in the data crystal were the point in space–time where he would rendezvous with Jaden Korr, where he would finally learn the truth behind the veil.
A human woman, one of the dancers dressed in a gauzy green outfit that showed as much as it covered, walked into the room. Seeing Kell standing over Reegas, she froze just inside the doorway. The cup she held fell to the floor, spilling keela. Her mouth hung open, her eyes bulged. A small, abortive scream emerged from her throat. Perhaps her mouth was too dry to muster much more.
Kell’s feeders snaked into his cheek sacs, leaving a spatter of blood on the floor. He eyed the woman and held a finger to his lips.
“Shh.”
He blocked himself from her perception and walked out of the hole in the wall, following Jaden Korr and Khedryn Faal.
Her screams started when he hit the street.
The swoop and speeder bike blazed into the lightless airspace over Farpoint’s landing field. Jaden shielded his mouth from the dust with his sleeve and looked back toward Farpoint from time to time, but saw no signs of pursuit.
A few dozen ships, freighters mostly, dotted the dusty plains of the field below, framed in ad hoc halo lighting mounted on tripods. Upturned faces greeted the arrival of the swoop and speeder.
“Start the remote launch sequence,” Khedryn shouted over the wind to Marr.
The Cerean was already tapping keys on his speeder’s datapad, controlling the craft with only one hand and his legs. The wound in his arm caused him to wince as he worked.
“You are used to rapid exits, I see,” Jaden said over the swoop’s engine.
Khedryn nodded. “Comes with the work. Where’s your ship?”
“The Z-Ninety-five.” He pointed to the far edge of the field at his yellow-and-white starfighter. “Over there.”
Khedryn squinted against the dust and erupted into a laugh as short and abrupt as a blaster shot. “Does the Order put all their Jedi into flying cans these days? That thing’s an antique even out here.”
Jaden smiled. “It’s a bit more than it looks.”
“I hope so,” Khedryn said. “Because it looks like something I’d have trouble selling for scrap.” He angled the swoop for it. “I’ll drop you there. Let’s get offplanet, then we can talk about this business proposition you have. And you can explain to me how I—how
we
—cheated in the sabacc game.”
“I’d prefer that we stay together,” Jaden said.
“You would? Other than the fact that you fly a ship as old as the galaxy and I don’t, why is that?”
Jaden heard the suspicion in Khedryn’s tone. He assumed it came with life on Fhost. “You’ll have to trust me. We can talk on your ship.”
“Trust?” Khedryn smirked over his shoulder. “We don’t do a lot of that out here.”
“If I had meant you harm, I could have done it already.”
Khedryn nodded, looked over to Marr. “This fellow better be a Jedi or we’re going to be in real trouble.”
“He could be a Sith,” Marr said absently.
“You a Sith?” Khedryn asked, half smiling.
“Of course not.”
“He says he’s not,” Khedryn said to Marr.
“Sith are liars,” Marr said.
“That’s true,” Khedryn said.
“You both know better than that,” Jaden said, not quite sure if they were jesting or not. “You can trust me. I am telling you both that you can trust me.”
Khedryn and Marr stared at each other across the void between their speeders. Finally the Cerean shrugged.
“I trust Marr’s instincts,” said Khedryn. “So you’re in luck. But I’m captain on
Junker
, even when a Jedi is along for the ride. Understood?”
“Understood. I have an astromech on my ship that you could—”
“I do not allow droids on my ship.”
The statement took Jaden aback. “Never?”
“Never. I don’t even like them dealing my cards, but there’s nothing for that. Still want to hitch that ride?”