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| - The horror didn't end there. As the news presenter's image returned to the viewscreen, blabbering on about an upcoming official government response and remarks being issued by representatives for the Order of the Blue Light, the two lighters' sat-phones began to bray for attention. Fua and Iper jumped as though electrodes had been shoved into their posteriors, and I had no doubt as to why. They exchanged a horrified look, then glanced beseechingly at Bellinega, who nodded in reply. “You should answer,” she said. “Use any excuse.” They left the room at top speed, bolting up the staircase to different floors so as to have some sort of privacy. The Force within the house boiled with uncertainty as the lighters, exchanging thought at lightspeed, cooked up their own version of events. I had no doubt that they were being contacted by the Constabulary in order to assess the seriousness of this threat, since they were supposedly the ones who had brought the ship into impound in the first place. I knew that, thankfully, lighters' communicators were not equipped with trackers, lest the devices trigger alarms while they worked undercover. Silence reigned on the first floor, save for the continuing news updates. Even amidst the utter audacity of this latest twist, it occurred to me that the timing for the announcement of T'Yelc's version of events couldn't have been more fortuitous. Perhaps it was due to her having to work so hard in assembling the pieces, or possibly due to some bureaucratic SNAKU; in any case, I wasn't about to let this opportunity go unused. Over the space of moments, the kernel of a plan resolved itself within my mind's eye. It was dangerous, and possibly even playing into the Youngarch's own scheme, but the attempt might just force a confrontation that would bring about a resolution to this whole mess. As if that weren't enough, part of me really really wanted the chance to pay her back for having smashed me headfirst into that bulkhead. Eventually Iper and Fua returned, nodding rigidly to the Eldarch as they resumed their seats. For several moments no one said a thing, until Silas finally switched the viewscreen off. “Well, that's our last two and a half hours of discussion out the airlock,” he deadpanned. “What did you tell...?” His question, intended for the two lighters, died unfinished as he caught a glimpse of the grin that was spreading on my lips. “Oh no,” he moaned, holding his head in his hand. “Why do I get the feeling you're about to say something I'm not going to like?” “I'm pretty sure that you will like it, actually,” I replied. “We're in Tal'adin City, not ten kilometers from the Foruma Lawyteret itself, are we not? What better proof do we need to refute this ridiculous claim than to let Bellinega present herself to the assembly and tell the truth?” Iper's eyes went wide and her mouth formed a perfect, comical O as she recognized the intent of my plan. “In the meantime we tail her discretely, ready to intercept any potential threats, including T'Yelc herself!” “Exactly!" I exclaimed, slamming my left fist into my open right hand. “HK-47, get in here!” “Acknowledgment: You screamed for me, Master?” he said after having clanked over to the main room from the kitchen. I touched the holocron with the Force once again, and the jade-tinted image of Revan sprouted from its top. “Do you recognize this person?” I asked. “Exclamation: Why Master, that is my creator! How did you come to possess his image? Backpedal: Wait, never mind, forget I asked. Observation: That is a Jedi holocron, unless my photoreceptors are malfunctioning...again.” “It is indeed,” I replied, smiling wickedly at the assassin droid. “Tell me everything you know about why you were constructed.” “Advisement: Master, under normal circumstances I would not be able to tell you even if I wanted to. Explanation: However, seeing that this image is coming from a Jedi holocron and not a Sith one, I am forced to acknowledge that my creator is now of your kind and thus, my programming restrictions are now deactivated.” He seemed to consider this for a moment. “Recollection: As I recall, Master, Revan originally constructed me to serve as a replacement for another HK-47 unit that went missing while on an assassination mission in Mandalorian space. Speculation: I suspect that my component systems and programming might have been slightly better than my predecessor as a result, however that would be meatbag logic at work, and I am just a humble droid.” “A bit of a droid chauvinist, isn't he?” Ben asked with the hint of a chuckle. “If I remember the historical records correctly,” Luke began, stroking his chin, “that original HK-47 unit eventually wound up in Revan's possession once again. He might even have been owned by Vima Sunrider later on, though the records are unclear as to who may have accompanied her.” “Objection: What do you mean by your use of the past tense, meatbag? You will tell me what became of my creator now, or I shall commence—” “Shut up!” I barked. The droid immediately fell silent, giving me time to formulate my next inquiry. “If Revan built you while he was still a Sith Lord, then you must know about how to defeat Force-users, correct?” “Answer: Yes, Master, I have been extensively programmed in multiple ways and techniques designed to enable me to successfully assassinate both Jedi Knights and Sith Lords and emerge intact.” “Do you think you could apply those techniques to Sa'ari lighters?” I asked, Fua and Iper emitting barely audible gasps of shock at my words. “Affirmation: Indeed I could, Master. Speculation: Since lighters do not possess nor wield lightsabers, I can be eighty-three point three three, repeating of course, percent sure that such an act will be considerably easier to accomplish.” “Even with your blaster set on stun?” “Confusion: Err...given that condition, my estimates go down by about three quarters, Master. Though I cannot possibly imagine why you would not prefer wanton slaughter instead. I would be ever so glad to—” “Absolutely not,” I said. “We do this with a minimum of bloodshed.” “Do what?” Silas asked, his fur rippling madly as he threw up his hands. “Laera, do you even realize what you're saying? Every lighter and police officer in the city—” “—will be looking for her and for us,” I finished for him. “Don't you see, though? It's the perfect plan to force T'Yelc to show herself!” “I agree with Laera's assessment,” Bellinega said, her tone oddly serene. “I will walk to the Foruma Lawyteret under your covert protection and inform the people of what has really transpired. But we should wait until daybreak tomorrow, so that we can be assured that I am seen by as many Sa'ari as possible.” Fua and Iper looked at the Eldarch as though she had suddenly morphed into a gargantuan dragonfly. The Skywalkers shared a look, the meaning of which I could only begin to guess at. Silas looked imploringly from one face to another before breaking the silence. “Please excuse me, but could I see you alone for a moment Laera?” Unable to get rid of the feral grin on my face, I nodded and we both rose from our divan. — — — “What the kriff did Revan's ghost say to you?” Silas demanded, his aura broadcasting consternation and irritation along with the indignation in his voice. We had trotted back to the room given to us so as to not be overheard, but I wasn't worried about that. “Please come clean with me, Laera, because if you keep swinging moods on me like this, I don't know how much longer I'll be able to take it.” I understood Silas's concern, and even felt sorry for him. “You're right, of course,” I replied, smoothing his fur with one hand as I set the holocron on the bed before us with the other. “Here, watch.” Activating the device with a wisp of Force energy, I called up the appropriate files. I observed my love's aura as he took in the conversation between Bastila and Revan, accompanied by the latter's voiced thoughts, and then the message itself. When it was finished, the holocron shut down and I took hold of it once again. “What do you think?” “No monitoring device...” Silas whispered. “Not that it would have done that much good, the tech was eventually rejected. I don't know, Laera, this is all way beyond me, particularly that bit about the vision prior to the battle at Iridonia. But I can at least understand why this had such an effect on you. I still don't like your plan, but it's not as though I have anything better to offer and we can't just sit here waiting.” “Silas, I know this last year has been especially hard on you,” I replied, taking his hands in mine. “If there was something I could do to make it better for you, I would do it without hesitation. Just name what you need and it'll be done.” “All I want, all I've ever wanted since Ord Mantell, was for you to be happy,” he said. “Ideally, that happiness would be something we could share. But how can we be partners in a relationship when you are constantly risking your life on Jedi hunches that I can trust but not fully understand? I would like nothing more than to be on the front lines with you whenever possible, but you move so quickly that the boundaries ebb and flow at a significant fraction of lightspeed. How could I live with myself if I knew that I was the anchor that weighed you down at a critical moment?” The heartache within the Bothan was so palpable that even a blind kath hound could sense it. It took me several moments of introspection to put together something to say in response. “I would say that we could only take this one step at a time, but that would only postpone the inevitable. While that might work in this case, it's a habit I'd rather not fall into. I love you Silas Dan'kre, now and forever. And I promise you that no matter what happens, you will never be left behind again.” In the wake of this pronouncement, a breath of wind whose origin defied explanation blew over us, teasing my hair and puckering my flesh as Silas's fur waved about. Surprisingly, this caused him to shiver slightly, and I drew him into a soothing embrace. By the time we had rejoined the gathering on the main floor, midnight had come and gone. For the next several hours the lighters, the Skywalkers, Silas and myself took it in turns to plan out the route that Bellinega would take in the morning, the rest of us taking catnaps while one pair worked at a time. While this was going on the Eldarch herself slept, resting up for who or whatever might try and stop her trek. As dawn was approaching, she reemerged from her own room to be briefed on how the trip would work and what we would do to monitor and possibly intervene. At last, as the sun's first rays peeked over the horizon, all eight of us were ready to depart the house of Iper's great aunt. Bellinega was well-dressed for her role, having been given the most ornate ceremonial garment in the house, which she wore over her own robes. A voluminous slate-gray cloak easily as old as she was, it shimmered with braids of silvery thread that crossed at angles resembling an arachnid's web. Further braiding, embroidered in gold, circled the cuffs of the sleeves and followed the edges of the collar and hem, making for an impressively regal display. — — — “Youngarch, we have a problem!” Ari T'Nok nearly shouted as she barged her way into my sanctum. Quickly I roused myself and flung a lighter's cloak over my nightdress, my eyes flicking to the window and noting that the sun had completed its emergence from behind the horizon. “What is it?” I asked briskly, knowing that my protégé would not have disturbed me at this early hour without good reason. “Bellinega has been spotted in Tal'adin City,” Ari replied breathlessly. “And...she's walking, apparently alone!” That bit of news made me crick my neck, so fast had I turned to face the one who had delivered it. Rubbing my spine to relieve the momentary pain, I glared at her. “Are you absolutely certain that she is alone?” “I have not been able to confirm this for myself,” she replied, her confidence returning. “But my source in the Constabulary insists that she has not detected anyone that might be following her.” “When did this happen?” I demanded. “Did she say what condition Bellinega was in, or what kind of response she was getting from those who had seen her?” “Y-yes, Y-Youngarch,” Ari stammered. “She reported that the Eldarch emerged from a residential neighborhood almost an hour ago, and that she seemed to be in excellent health, her poise that of a woman three centuries younger. And she was talking freely to anyone who approached her.” Inwardly, I cursed a red streak. This was exactly the kind of thing that could derail my plans completely, and while I had thought that it could be a possibility, in my hubris I had dismissed it out of hand. Despite Ari's assertions to the contrary, I knew that Bellinega was far from alone, that in fact the Skywalkers, the Starborne Ones, those fools T'Royc and T'Ooro, and even that infernal machine that I had planted back at the monastery, were all keeping a close eye on her. It all came together in that instant, what an utter fool I'd been to leave any of them alive. Well, that was a mistake that would soon be remedied. “Do you have a track on where she is going?” I asked in a low voice, knowing even as I spoke what the answer would be. There was only one place she could go. “She...she seems to be heading in the direction of the Foruma Lawyteret, Youngarch.” “Alert the airfield,” I ordered at a growl. “I want the entire squadron in Tal'adin Constabulary dress, ready to lift off in fifteen minutes. Can you handle that, Ari?” “Yes, Youngarch, I will see to it at once!” she replied, snapping off a salute before scampering from my presence like a lokta bird fearing the slaughter. She would get there before I could reach her, this much was certain. While I could throw every Tal'adin resource I possessed at her and her hidden guard force in an attempt to delay her, I dismissed the idea as foolhardy. The last thing I needed at this point was for the whole city to break out in mass confusion and riots; it would be all too easy for the Eldarch to slip through such commotions unnoticed. And even if she was successfully stopped, her death at that point would be seen as a heroic sacrifice; too many people had already seen for themselves that she was no hostage, as I had intended for them to believe. Faced with the realization that my masterstroke had been turned into my own possible undoing, I resolved instead to journey to the Foruma itself, to challenge her to single combat for right of succession. It was an ancient ritual, not used since long before the prophecy, but right now it was my only option. The challenge itself had originally been intended to serve as a final effort to check the possible descent into the blackness of the Eldarch and the Order of the Blue Light, and it could only be given by the Youngarch. How ironic that it would now be used for the opposite purpose. It was a risk, but one that had to be taken. If she managed to reach the Foruma and convince the Lawyteret of the truth before I could arrive and counter her claim, then all of T'lessia would come down upon me and my own followers. Our chances for glory in the wider galaxy would be dashed, my people forced to accept other beings' values, and that was something that I could not permit to happen while still capable of drawing breath. After dressing myself for battle as I formed my rebuttal to Bellinega's inevitable testimony, I strode from my sanctum to the small span of tarmac where twelve helicopters, eight of them gunships, sat. Their rotors already spinning as their engines warmed up, I watched as the ground crews finished applying Tal'adin Constabulary placards to the forward and aft fuselage of each machine. Donning my helmet, I raced toward my own vehicle, which was already occupied by Ari and four other armed and armored officers in addition to its flight crew. “All units, go!” I ordered into my helmet radio's tactical frequency. Taking the only available seat and sliding the door shut behind me, I strapped in. “Head for the Foruma Lawyteret, best possible speed!” “What is the plan?” Ari asked, covering her helmet input so that no one else would hear over the noise of the machine's engines running flat-out. “The Challenge of Blackness,” I replied curtly, making the same gesture. “It's my only chance now to kill Bellinega and control the results.” Ari's eyes went wide with shock and disbelief; like me, she knew what this entailed. “You are certain?” “Nothing is certain, not now,” I reminded her. “Especially when trying to factor in Laera Reyolé.” “You think that she is behind this, then?” Ari asked. “I know it, Bellinega could never have been so bold otherwise," I growled back. Even as we were climbing to altitude, rationalizations and excuses were cascading through my psyche at top speed—if only we'd been able to submit the 'evidence' sooner; perhaps if we'd gotten someone into the monastery to monitor her movements; if only I hadn't tried to be cute by planting their machine at that blasted place!—until I had to literally grab my mind and force it back into rational thought. There was no time and no point to such recriminations. "I was a fool to dismiss this contingency!” “And what if Bellinega kills you?” Ari demanded. “What will become of the Sa'ari people then?” “I do not know,” I confessed achingly, my gut squirming as I made the admission. A sudden burst of impotent rage came over me, and I punched the door with my gloved fist, leaving a sizable dent in the aluminum skin. “Spazjya!” The ancient curse, shouted for all to hear, caused everyone to glare at me reprovingly save for the pilot, who determinedly kept her eyes on the instrument display. The word's meaning was so vile that it defied translation; even modern Sa'arese lacked an appropriate metaphor. Such was its impact that not even the Youngarch of the Order of the Blue Light could get away from the stigma associated with its utterance. I dismissed their baleful looks however, instead casting my gaze through the forward windscreen and toward the horizon. — — — “HK-47, status report,” came Laera's voice over the linked network of Sa'ari mobile phones. Slaved to one another so that they did not need to use external sources to relay the signals they carried, the devices served as an effective substitute for standard comlinks using a scrambled frequency. Iper and Fua had done an outstanding job coming up with the idea and putting the network together; with Silas's help they had been able to finish it in time for its use in this latest enterprise. “Statement: The meatbag designated Bellinega has now completed sixty percent of her journey, Master. Addendum: She is continuing to exchange words of praise and thanks, however, which is slowing down her progress.” The Eldarch did not hear this, of course, as it would have looked suspicious for her to be in communication with anyone other than those with whom she spoke directly. The assassin droid was keeping track of her by following from whatever flat rooftops he could find amongst the domes of houses and small businesses. His blaster carbine, set to stun, still had enough accuracy to cover her in the event of someone attempting to halt her progress. Luke and Ben, meanwhile, were keeping a respectful distance in front of the Eldarch as she walked the prearranged route. Cloaked in items culled from their hideout and with copious amounts of blue makeup applied to their faces, in addition to improvised height extensions grafted to their boots, they could pass for Sa'ari at first glance, gently discouraging further inquiries by judicious use of the Force. Silas and Laera, on the other hand, were following her closely through the sewers, clad in full armor (sans their helmets) and ready to burst through the nearest drainage hatch should the worst-case scenario occur with someone making an attempt on Bellinega's life. Iper and Fua, dressed in civilian garb, had taken up mobile flanking positions. Their job was to provide lateral protection as well as to keep their senses attuned to any looming threats, so that they could be headed off before getting too close. The cordon was operating like a well-oiled machine, despite the growing crowd of well-wishers. Occasionally a knot would form around the Eldarch, and she would be forced to come up with an excuse to continue onward. However, nothing about these gatherings posed any threat whatsoever, and this had Laera worried. “Lighter group, report,” she said into the comm-net. “Nothing to the left,” Fua's voice came back. “Nothing to the right,” Iper replied. “Jedi Team, anything new?” “This paint itches,” Ben mock-groaned, attempting to lighten the mood. “Stow that,” Laera replied indignantly. “Report the situation on the street, not the situation on your acne-ridden face.” “Sorry,” Ben said with a slight grumble. “Nothing to report,” Luke added, his tone indicating that the conversation was over. “We're about to make the turn onto Jaleto Street.” “Statement: There is a multilevel groundcar park on the northwest corner, Master. I am making my way over to it now.” The team of Jedi and lighters continued their vigil as Laera and Silas followed along underneath the streets, turning at the appropriate drainage conduit so as to keep close enough to Bellinega's march. From Jaleto Street, it was a short distance of fifteen hundred meters to Foruma Lawyteret Boulevard, which led directly to the vast assembly hall. Groundcar traffic, normally somewhat limited at this time of day, was completely absent; instead the streets were becoming increasingly packed with walking Sa'ari. The vast majority of them were ordinary folks, hoping to catch some glimpse of their beloved spiritual leader after having heard of her kidnapping on the news the previous night. Others included police officers, some doubtlessly hoping to get close enough to question the Eldarch as to how she had escaped, while others sought to keep the crowd from becoming a mob. Even the occasional lighter was evident in the Force, but they were playing things cool, possibly as the result of gentle mental connections between themselves and Bellinega. Though resolved to see this through, everyone in the secret guard detail knew that this situation had the potential to become either a blessing or a complete fiasco, depending on whether or not T'Yelc decided to press the issue while the Eldarch was still en route to the Foruma building. It was also becoming increasingly difficult to hear transmissions over the comm-net above the din of the throng, forcing Laera, Iper, Fua and the Skywalkers to risk betraying their own Force-senses in order to understand what was being communicated. Tensions among the team were rising, and it began to seem as though it was only their shared purpose that kept them working together. “Statement: Master, I am now atop the main building of the Foruma complex,” the assassin droid reported as Bellinega came within sight of her destination. “Observation: From this vantage point, I am capable of wreaking much havoc, though I know that this goes against your orders...sadly.” “Do you have eyes on the Eldarch?” Laera inquired irritably. “Affirmation: I do, Master. Conjecture: Given her present course and speed, and accounting for possible increases in the number of bystanders, I anticipate that she will be safe inside within ten Standard minutes.” “Thank the stars he's on our side,” Silas whispered into Laera's ear. “I have no idea how he's managed to maintain overwatch without notice.” “Finally starting to warm up to him, are you?” she whispered back. “I get the feeling you aren't,” he replied with a grimace. “No. No I'm not.” “Warning: Master, I am detecting approaching aerial vehicles, at least ten of them. Observation: They appear to be Tal'adin Constabulary helicopters; four of them passenger vehicles, escorted by several gunships. However, given the congenial nature of the crowd below, I do not believe that this is an officially-sanctioned response.” “Sithspit, that'll be T'Yelc's people,” Ben spat. “They're going to slaughter the whole crowd to get to the Eldarch!” “Not even she would do that,” Iper cut in reassuringly. “She would know that to do so now would only cause mass confusion and panic, and she would not be able to control the resulting chaos or mold the people into accepting any kind of explanation for such an atrocity. “HK-47, how far off are they?” Laera asked. “Answer: Approximately seventy-one point three kilometers and closing, Master. The meatbag we are guarding will be well inside by the time they arrive.” “Stay up on the rooftops,” Laera ordered. “If they try to harm anyone, do what you can to neutralize them. Lethal force is authorized.” “Exclamation: Oh goody, Master, I can hardly wait for the fun to begin!” Luke, Ben, Fua and Iper felt the heat of Laera's exasperation in the Force as the mass of people, with the Eldarch at its heart, made their way down the street on the last leg of the journey. As the leading elements began to ascend the wide steps leading up to the Foruma complex, the members of the cordon began to break from their transitory positions in order to make their own surreptitious ways inside.
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