The Force Wills - Chapter 98 (Patreon)

Our contact left us directions deeper into the city.

So we managed to flag a speeder taxi that would take us to the coordinates.

These taxis were at best a small cottage industry made up of a few hundred off-worlders who had found a niche market to operate in. Given their primary customers were the criminals that called this city home, they had to be very careful of the prices they charged and it varied based on what threat their passengers represented.

The bith driver asked up front for 20 credits, which Anakin negotiated down to 15 with a bit of Force inspired intimidation, casually demonstrating his draw and handling of the blaster on his hip, which would’ve made any trick shot artist green with envy.

After an eight minute ride at a blistering pace that nearly resulted in the driver mowing down three drunk off-worlder pedestrians who had strayed into the road, we were delivered to what at first glance was just another three floor circular structure rebuilt in the stenax style.

The general neighborhood had clearly been residential, but now this building stood tall among the old ruins of two dozen similarly sized buildings in the area.

We had barely gotten out of the speeder before the bith driver gunned the throttle and roared away.

“Frakking shabla,” I cursed in outrage, feeling tempted to draw my own blaster.

“Easy Ahne,” Anakin cautioned. “No incidents to draw attention.”

“Yes, yes, let’s get this over with.”

We approached a side entrance to the building and was immediately hit with a distinctive smell.

“Spice,” he said under his breath. I nodded, there was no mistaking it and the way it seemed to sting my nostrils meant that refining was underway inside.

Anakin knocked on the door four times.

Above us a small portal opened and the mechanical eyestalk of a droid based security system popped out and glared down at us with an angry orange glow.

“Identify yourself,” it demanded.

“This is Ahne Zam and I’m Geinn Sevam, we’re expected.”

“Scanning, one moment.” The droid focused on me first then on Anakin. Droids integrated into a building like this was something you saw more in the Outer Rim than anywhere else in the galaxy. It was a way to cheaply put a security system into a building as long as you got the programming right, did the regular maintenance and mindwipes. Anyone who didn’t would quickly find themselves either locked out or even killed by the building, when the security droid decided that its lot in life was unacceptable. “Identity confirmed. You are being watched.”

The eyestalk retreated and the door opened by sliding into a side recess with a smooth hiss.

We emerged into a small hallway and hadn’t taken even a few steps before a side door opened and our ‘pickpocket’ emerged, looking somewhat out of breath.

He had just seemingly come out of a quick trip to the ‘fresher, his hair was soaking wet and he was dressed with clothes that were whole and clean this time. Though now he was wearing a mechanic’s red overall that somewhat helped to hide his skinny frame, with heavy boots and a blaster pistol belted on his hip.

“Ah, welcome to Stenos,” the RI agent greeted us. “I’m Agent Serec.”

That was a lie, but we let it go given this man probably had dozens of ready aliases he could give us as his name. His accent now also had a distinct Coruscanti flavor.

“Agent,” Anakin nodded, getting down to business immediately. We didn’t need to be buddy-buddy here. “You said you have a problem?”

Serec nodded and gestured for us to follow. “Yes, my partner. Let’s step into my office, such as it is, and I’ll explain.”

We were led down a set of circular stairs into the basement floor. Here the entire space was filled with various boilers, distillers, and other machinery dedicated to refining spice. Each machine had either a human or bith working at it, as they attended to the careful process of taking the raw spice and turning it into the various refined variants. One machine I recognized was the final step in creating the glitterstim version - the most expensive and illegal in the galaxy.

“Nice setup you have here,” I said wryly.

“It’s a cover and pays the bills for expanding this sector of the network. We’re also not just here for the war, but also to make a dent in the Outer Rim spice trade.”

“And you do that, by trading spice?”

“If you want to map the contacts and secret routes that’s used, yes,” Serec said without looking apologetic at all about it. “Trust me, the hutts spice network is one of the most extensive in the galaxy and also doubles as a very useful intelligence tool for them. That glitterstim is just what you need to ferret out secrets from people’s heads without them knowing at all.”

What he didn’t say was the cost involved, anyone using glitterstim even once became addicted to it. It was the ultimate drug in the galaxy for creating the demand for spice.

We passed through the spice processing level without further word, through a door and into a cluttered room with a desk made of some local red wood. It was festooned with datapads and the walls were lined with detailed flimsiplast hyperspace maps of the local and neighboring sectors around Stenos.

Serec fell into a rickety chair behind his desk and as I looked into his gray-blue eyes, I caught a far better measure of the man. This was not a person to take lightly at all - I could tell he knew the spy game very well. He shifted personas as easily as clothes and as I watched he changed from the boss of a spice refining operation, to an RI agent who knew when to kill and not feel the slightest remorse about it.

It made me wonder which Republic corporation he’d been recruited from.

He regarded both Anakin and I with those same cunning eyes, clearly observing and making deductions about just who he was working with, even though he had probably been briefed and had seen a redacted RI file about us.

He was finally satisfied after his scrutiny, nodding to himself and pulled out a datapad from the messy piles on his desk. Then placed it down in the little empty space in the middle of the desk. A few taps later of what was clearly a code, a hologram projected into the air above it.

It was a topological scan of a very mountainous area, which then zoomed in to a specific point to show what looked like someone’s idea of a mansion, combined with a fortress set directly into the side of a steep mountain.

It had the typical circular stenax construction, but had some offworld influences in the wing extensions and roofs that looked like something a human would build.

“What you are looking at is the target. It obviously used to be the mansion of a particularly wealthy and influential stenax. Then the quake happened and all of them turned into an agrarian civilization by religious decree. The former owner of the place is still alive and well due to the stenax 200 hundred year lifespan.”

Anakin folded his arms, “Let me guess, he’s the stenax patriarch that your partner ‘offended’.”

“Correct,” Serec said, a hint of respect entering his voice. “Dooku has rebuilt and occupied the mountain estate. Now whilst there has undoubtedly been changes made, the underlying foundations, the groundside entrances and passageways by their nature haven't been touched, besides the obvious electronic security measures added on. The patriarch, Vakrat D’rarel, still has the construction plans and blueprint records in his possession, which is what my partner was attempting to get from him.”

“Just how does D’rarel still have these records? If they’re supposed to be an avowed agrarian civilization?” I asked pointedly.

“There are degrees to which they keep that vow and it depends on what they can keep concealed from the priesthood of Vol. If your family was strong, wealthy and influential enough before the cataclysm, then you can imagine that today they have secret enclaves and caches. It’s where they keep their wealth for the day when their sacred statue of Vol is found again and they return to the species they once were.”

I blinked, “Seriously? They pushed themselves back on a civilizational scale because a statue went missing?”

Serec nodded, “Might sound ridiculous to us, but it’s dead serious business to them. One of the primary occupations the stenax have is the search for that statue and it’s also drawn the attention of let’s call them ‘collectors of antiquity’ from offworld.”

“No doubt imagining the riches the stenax would bestow for the return of the statue,” Anakin stated.

“Indeed. Our problem is now that my fellow agent, who you can refer to as Thel Enchal, somehow botched the negotiations for a copy of those blueprint records of the estate. The fool went alone to the meeting, whilst I was preoccupied with putting out a figurative fire in the spice business here. Something he said or did, offended D’rarel and led to him immediately seizing Thel and locking him up in the basement of the clan’s current residence.”

I tried rolling the sequence of events in my mind, in addition to checking some probability lines. “Did D’rarel contact you informing you of Thel’s mistake?”

"Yes, he did. Using the comlink was the last thing D’rarel allowed Thel to do as a free man. Now he’s going to be ripped apart and his pieces displayed outside the D’rarel residence as warning to us offworlders to mind our business and all that. Now he didn’t say exactly what my fellow agent did, just that he ‘grievously offended the family and must die.’”

“Just how easily are stenax offended in general?” Anakin asked curiously.

“Very easily,” Serec answered with a dark expression. “Why do you think off-worlders give them such a wide berth in the street? If you accidentally bump into one, you’ll have ‘disturbed them giving penance to Vol’ and they’ll feel fully justified in ripping you apart right there on the spot. If you ever speak to a stenax you also better watch your metaphors and speak with precise words that leave nothing to interpretation. They like nothing better than finding offense in such things. Mostly because it helps relieve their utter boredom from the day to day drudgery of living for the penance of Vol.” He sighed and leaned back in his seat. “It’s this that I think tripped my partner up. Usually we’re together when we speak to stenax and we help keep each other on the level, preventing each other from giving offense.”

“So what can we do to resolve this?” Anakin asked.

“Short of you going in with blaster and lightsaber swinging, the only other way is to somehow convince D’rarel that it's worth forgiving the offense and handing over the plans for the estate. Which I can tell you now will be very expensive.”

“Can you afford that level of expense?”

“Possibly, it depends on his mood when we meet him,” Serec sighed wearily. “There’s room in the operating budget, we’ll probably end up blowing a hole the size of the Maw through it in the process.”

“We have our own operating cash reserve which we can help you with,” I offered.

“That’s a relief.”

“So how soon can a meeting with D’rarel be arranged?”

Serec rubbed his face as he considered the answer, “Again, it depends. Whether it’ll be before Thel is rendered to pieces or after is up in the air. I have D’rarel’s com code, which was an ordeal in itself to acquire. That he even has a comlink would be enough to see him excommunicated from their church, which is akin to a death sentence in their society.”

“So he has a measure of trust in you that you had to earn,” Anakin commented.

“Yes, anyway, I can call him and we could have a meeting in two hours earliest, which is what I’ll ask for. I doubt we’ll get it.”

“If we don’t then your partner is dead, in other words.”

“Yes, and we may have to leave him to his fate, for the sake of the greater mission,” Serec looked at us grimly with an evaluating stare. “Can you both do that? Because that may be what’s required. Saving Thel could mean you’d have to go through one of the strongest stenax clans in the city, shed a lot of blood in the process, which inevitably means you’d have to flee off planet as the D’rarel’s allied clans drowns you in numbers. I don’t care how strong you are in the you know what, you haven’t seen a mass of enraged stenax.”

“We won’t let it come to that,” Anakin held up his hands in a pausing motion. “Please, make the call. The sooner we find out what we have to do, the better.”

“Right, be back in a few minutes,” he stood and walked briskly out of his office.

I carefully kept a mental eye on him in the Force, whilst my senses ranged around the office. It came as no surprise to find multiple surveillance devices of impressive complexity hidden at multiple angles, leaving absolutely no blind spots.

My right hand casually made a sign to Anakin.

‘I spotted them Snips,’ he mentally nodded to me.

‘What do you think of him? Can we trust him not to frak us over?’

‘You’re the one with prescience.’

‘Yes, but I want your opinion anyway, Skyguy.’

‘I’m not inviting him to a Lifeday celebration anytime soon, I can tell you that. He’s the type that would betray us in a heartbeat if it suited his goals and note he wasn’t too eager on saving his partner. He would do it, if he could, but it’s not something he’d give his life to achieve.’

‘That’s just his pragmatism speaking and the cost of doing business in the spy world.’

Anakin mentally nodded, ‘What can we expect of this meeting?’

‘Blood and death, Skyguy. Blood and death.’

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Our meeting with D’rarel would be in the evening of the same day, which was at least a hopeful sign that the stenax patriarch was in the mood to negotiate.

In our wait until then, I urged Anakin that we should keep as low profile as possible and remain within Serec’s building until the time was right. Quite a few probability lines where we roamed the city to kill time, ended up with us getting into a fight with a bored stenax.

Serec had one of his employees fetch some food for us, where we got to experience the offworld spin on stenax’s best cuisine. The local meat was nice enough, but it seemed that they loved to add something that made most humanoid taste buds experience the burn of a capsaicin equivalent.

It unfortunately did nothing for my tastebuds, reacting in no way whatsoever. It might as well have been tasteless water, yet both Anakin and Serec’s eyes were tearing up and their faces were flushed red. 

“Ah, this stuff is painful, yet it’s so tasty,” Anakin sucked in air to cool his tongue down a bit.

“You get used to it,” Serec drank from a creamy broth and handed it over. “This’ll dull the aftermath better and neutralize it.”

Anakin took a careful sip, pausing the passage of the liquid in his mouth. Clearly sensing if there was anything untoward in there, even if Serec had already drank from it. Good, at least some of my own spy lessons were sinking in as standard procedure for him.

“I don’t bother with poisons,” the spy said wryly as he took back the drink.

That he made the correct deduction of Anakin’s momentary pause at least proved Serec’s bona fides somewhat.

“Really?” I asked skeptically. “When you run a spice operation? Lacing a bit of spice seems like a handy assassination tool.”

“You’d have to be a spice user for that to work. No, my tools are much more subtle than that.”

“Oh, then you use the ‘accidental death’ and ‘he did it himself’?” I asked innocently.

Serec frowned at me for a while and I sensed he was surprised, “Yes. Forgive me, it’s not something one expects from… your type.”

“That’s quite true, isn’t it?” I asked rhetorically, taking a bite and staring at him with a cutesy smile, while my eyes told him a different story.

I had run a probability line on Serec and while he might be working for the Republic now, he wouldn’t be for some reason in around a year’s time. Someone had either completely bought him out with a ton of money for his secrets or it was ideological. The reason I knew this, his path would intersect again with mine as he caused the death of another future Fulcrum network member - engineering their death via a speeder accident.

He looked away, now feeling quite creeped out.

We finished our early dinner with silence and boarded Serec’s personal four seat speeder that looked like it had certainly seen better days, but was still functional enough to be of service.

‘Snips?’ Anakin thought to me.

 ‘Later, Skyguy,’ I thought back, now was not the time to sow any doubt.

The streets of the capital were naturally more deserted at night and with no moons currently in the sky, the place turned into a large collection of lit islands twinkling in the darkness.

The speeder’s lights blazed forward with illumination more akin to floodlights, warning anyone of our coming and yet Serec made sure to keep his speed below forty kph. It was a pathetic pace for a speeder, yet understandable with the condition of the local infrastructure.

“We do not want to be in an accident and run down a stenax accidentally!” Serec explained over the rush of air.

That would be bad in general always, but on Stenos I’d imagine it would lead to a nasty death at the hands of the stenax’s family.

It took just over an hour and a half to navigate through the darkened city, even with nav guidance from the speeder. Serec had made a few wrong turns as the navigation program struggled to do its job properly with the bad roads. Some roads that had been passable just last week, were now suddenly impassable due to a recently collapsed building.

Finally, he pulled the speeder to a stop near the ruin of a fairly large five floor complex building that took up most of the city block. As the engines died down and the lights shut off, my montrals now picked up the alien chatter of numerous stenax inside the walled off remnants and my eyes could pick out the burning light of flame torches from within the empty gaps where windows would be.

Through the Force I quickly counted 294… no 296 stenax; males, females and children.

Most were huddled around flames for warmth, but there were other more amorous activities that my farsight quickly moved away from. The one thing I also picked up though… there was a Force sensitive here, not trained to Jedi standards but there was some discipline and structure there. Their gaze couldn’t pierce our defense and we remained hidden though.

“Let me lead the conversation,” Serec said, who did well to visibly hide his fear but he couldn’t hide it from us. “Speak only when you are asked a direct question. Answer directly with no hyperbole or metaphor.”

“Understood,” Anakin pointedly.

We jumped out of the speeder, pausing only to let our guide secure the vehicle and arm a security system that I knew was lethal to whosoever was stupid enough to get in the driver’s seat after stealing it.

I winced at the thought of the concealed blaster going off directly into butt of the thief, even as I thought Serec was nuts to trust in the engineering of that system to not go off accidentally when he was driving.

We approached what had been a large entrance where a thick heavy gate would’ve prevented any entry for even a stenax, but now it was gone. Instead it was replaced with two hulking purple skinned stenax males who were nearly 2.7 meters tall. They were literal giants, who had taken over the function of doors and were big enough to give even other stenax pause.

Serec stopped slightly more than two meters away from the giants, who were sneering down on us.

“Greetings, I am Serec with two new acquaintances and we have an appointment with your patriarch.”

“You’re late,” grumbled the left giant, folding arms that were thicker than my waist with a physique that a sculptor would struggle with. If these guys weren’t so alien and evil looking, I might have been salivating a bit at the singular bits of eye candy on display. Those muscles, pecs and abs were amazing, but then you added the rest and it was just an awful turn-off. It left me feeling a constant metaphorical whiplash that was unpleasant to my sense of aesthetic beauty.

“I apologize, the roads at night are difficult to navigate.”

The right giant grumbled in understanding, then looked at his partner before they both stepped aside for us to enter.

Serec wasted no time in walking forward at a brisk pace, not even glancing back at the giants and we followed his example.

We followed a wide driveway for a vehicle that was probably a rusted hulk at this point. At the end was a large hinged door that was actually quite intact and looked rather well maintained.

Serec grabbed a massive artfully designed ancient handle with both of his hands and pulled with a grunt of effort.

The doors groaned in an ominous way; it spoke of wood, steel and age, lubricated with the local equivalent of oil. In the flickering of firelight that spilled over us from inside, I saw that there were reliefs carved on the door surface - featuring stylized stenax involved in fighting, leading armies and more carnal activities.

Serec had to put his whole body weight into stopping the massive door from bumping into the outer walls of the building and breathed a sigh of relief as he just managed it.

We entered inside and were confronted with a space that had been some form of long dining hall.

The roof was partially gone near the entrance, but there was some of it remaining on the other end and it was clearly being taken advantage of by the residents.

Here there were upwards of sixty stenax; all talking to each other in their native language with raucous voices, drinking beer, seated at tables or mingling in smaller groups. It was also here that I saw my first stenax female in person.

Just as tall as the males, slightly more slender, curved hips and only wearing the traditional cloth around their waist as skirts, leaving their bosoms visible and unsupported. I internally winced just thinking about having zero support, day in and day out, especially at the sizes these females had. The smallest I could spot would’ve counted as C or Ds using the old Earth measuring system, but you had to factor in the stenax’s proportional size. Their muscularity was just as pronounced as the men and judging by the interaction of the sexes here, it was needed.

Even as I watched, in the corner of the hall, a female raised her arm and gave a full handed slap to a male with such force that it bowled him off his seat. The stenax of both genders roared with laughter at the event, jeering at the misfortune of the hapless male, who had offended her in some way.

‘They’re certainly lively,’ Anakin thought with a mild awe at the scene.

Our approach was definitely noted by the various stenax, but except for a single cursory glance, we were otherwise ignored.

We now approached the center of the storm, so to speak.

Seated on a stupendously large wooden ‘throne’, hand carved with all sorts of artistic reliefs, was Vakrat D’rarel himself.

He wasn’t the biggest stenax in the room and didn’t come close to the size of giants outside, but the emotions I sensed of those around him made it clear that he was the top dog in the room. Just one look at his eyes and seeing the intelligence there made it clear why he was still the leader of this family clan. There was nothing on his person that was worn as a token of leadership or status, that was probably too close to violating the penance to their god. His purple-gray skin was stretched over ample sinuous muscle that naturally flexed and rippled with the slightest movement, the picture of restrained power waiting to be unleashed.

He lazily watched our approach with a disinterested expression, but I sensed his full attention was on us, his cunning mind working, evaluating, judging and deducing from what he saw.

Also of note, the Force Sensitive was a stenax who was standing to the right of the D’rarel’s throne.    

Serec stopped us three meters from the patriarch and bowed his head slightly in greeting, which Anakin and I smoothly imitated.

D’rarel continued to just regard us as the din of his greater clan washed over us. This was clearly another power play and demonstration that he would deal with us in his own time and not on our time. He even flicked his fingers and was quickly handed a giant mug of beer, which he began to savor with a relaxed air.

Only when he was half-way through that mug, did he put it down on his armrest and finally began the conversation.

“Serec, welcome to my hall.”

D’rarel’s Basic was good, but the deep voice itself resounded in my montrals and was not pleasant to hear. It had both a rasp, gargle and pitch that naturally seemed designed to unsettle anyone who heard it.

“Thank you for seeing us,” Serec replied in turn.

The clan leader took another sip of his beer, “Aah, so you wish to save the life of your business partner?”

“Yes, and conclude the transaction he was making with you.”

“Hmmm,” D’rarel’s voice rumbled almost like a big cat. “Tell me, why should I invite the wrath of Dooku into my house?” I sensed Serec was unpleasantly surprised, which he masterfully hid any indication of, but it did little to fool D’rarel. “Did you really think I wouldn’t deduce why you wanted those blueprints? Or for that matter, who you truly work for? Do you think we stenax are ignorant savages, bumbling stupidly around while we serve the Penance?”

Serec gave the only answer he could, “No.”

D’rarel knew otherwise but thankfully decided not to take offense on this matter. “Of course, Dooku approached me about using and rebuilding the old mountain home. Compensated me greatly for it. When the Penance ends the place will be waiting and ready for me to move in.”

“If the Penance ends in your lifetime,” Serec retorted.

“You speak truth, unfortunately,” D’rarel drank again, slamming his mug down. “The Vol priesthood blathers every year about how the statue will be found soon. They’ve been saying that for close to a century, it’s starting to wear thin and they know it.” He gave a knowing look at the Force Senstive stenax, who smirked back. “Now, what do you have to offer me, Serec?”

“100 000,” Serec offered.

D’rarel guffawed and laughed, “200.”

Serec shook his head, “120.”

“190, go any lower and I take your head right here,” D’rarel smiled, baring very sharp teeth.

Serec didn’t flinch as he said pointedly, “170.”

D’rarel burst into motion and a massive hand swiped at Serec with such speed and force…

Which stopped an inch from the spy’s cheek.

“Well, you do have some control, Serec,” D’rarel wide smile was unnerving to watch. “I’m impressed, 170 000 credits,” Serec might’ve had good control but I sensed he had been within moments of pissing himself in fear, just avoiding it by the narrowest of margins. “With a single condition.”

“What condition is that?”

“The Penance is hard to bear, we make do as best we can, get what entertainment we can. The nasty and slow death of Thel was going to be our amusement for tomorrow. Now that that is off the table, I find I need to replace it with something of equal value.”

“What would be of equal value?”

D’rarel for the first time properly looked at Anakin and I with naked interest. “I can’t help but notice your two new companions. I’m a very good judge of value, character and potential. It’s how I’m still alive on this rickety wooden chair. The way they walk, their bearing. That you brought them to a meeting which could’ve easily seen you killed… that speaks volumes. You think they can protect you and if not, at least avenge you.”

‘Uh, Snips?’ Anakin could see where this was going.

‘Play along, master. We were never going to leave this meeting without some blood being shed. The question was just whose and in what amount.’

D’rarel stood from his chair to a full height of just over 2.4 meters and smiled down eagerly at us. “Your names?”

“Ahne Zam,” I said, manifesting my outward mask, staring into those strange white eyes with black sclera.

“Geinn Sevam,” Anakin said in turn.

D’rarel just smirked, “It’s just for the little formalities. Of course, they’re both aliases and I don’t care. Now, given that you’re both here, I think we might as well get the entertainment started.” He flicked a finger to his left.

The stenax who had been slapped by the female stepped forward. He had a massive hand shaped bruise on his face, including three lines of cuts from the female’s claws. In his massive arms was an elegantly decorated, flat wooden box masterfully stained with stylized art. It was nearly two meters in length.

I knew what was in there, but still acted surprised.

“I see you wish to speak, little one,” D’rarel smirked. “I give my permission, tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I see you’ve figured out ways to circumvent the penance.”

“After a hundred years, you can imagine that all sorts of gaps in the language of the Penance have been found and exploited. I can gain all the wealth I want, little one. I just can’t use it.” His hand flicked open a lock on the elegant box.

Inside were two swords, shining and gleaming eerily under the torchlight. They were essentially what I would call long swords, to a stenax, at least. They featured no vibro tech and only did their work on the basis of the sharp edge, the strength and skill of the wielder. The handles were clearly made for stenax hands and featured a cross-guard that was barbed and cruel, which looked like they could punish the wielder just as much as their opponent.

Far from being a stupid thing, it seemed to fit the stenax to a T. Punishing the wielder for a mistake or any weakness if they relied too much on the dangerous cross guard.

D’rarel nodded at the stenax offering him the swords.

The spurned male abruptly grabbed the hilts of the weapons, lifting and wielding them as effortlessly as a feather. D’rarel glared as he was forced to catch the elegant box, lest it fall to the floor and be damaged.

“This is Vondur, he will be your opponent for our entertainment tonight.”

“What are the terms of this entertainment?” Anakin asked, visibly showing restrained anger that I could tell he was in full control of.

“Naturally it must be entertaining, therefore, no blasters. If you have nothing else, weapons can be provided for you.”

“Do you have any in our size?”

“Of course, I’m a merchant at heart and you wouldn’t believe what you aliens pay me with.” D’rarel flicked his fingers again and another stenax brought forward two normal sized vibroblades in their scabbards. “Naturally, you’ll turn the molecular vibration off when you fight Vondur.”

It made me wonder just how he knew to have them ready so quickly. Was there a hidden vault in this place filled with his wealth and treasures? Were they his only vault? Simple common sense answered both.

I took the offered vibroblade, removed the scabbard and tested its weight and balance. It was slightly on the heavy side for me, but not too much, Force buffing my strength would easily solve the issue.

“This entertainment is to the death?” Anakin asked, twirling his own vibroblade around in his wrist to get a feel for its movement, weight and balance.

D’rarel laughed awfully, which echoed through the ruined hall, “Of course. There is no greater entertainment for us stenax. In the Penance, we have lost so much. For those of us who aren’t farmers or laborers on the farms, life is dreadfully boring. The only entertainment we have is either copulation with our females or fights with various rules. As a result our population is always booming, yet we have to moderate it somehow so we don’t breed beyond our ability to feed the population. We won’t ever rely on aliens to provide food so…”

He trailed off and shrugged in a what can you do manner. 

“Where will we fight?” I asked, bringing my new blade back to its scabbard.

“Follow me,” D’rarel smirked in anticipation.

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We were led to the stenax version of a gladiatorial pit.

A circular earthen floor of fifteen meters in diameter, encircled with a three meter high wall. On that wall; numerous spikes, blades and barbs made of wood and durasteel were wedged. From there on a level above, high stone steps encircled the pit that acted as seating for spectators to look down on directly.

So much blood had been spilled, so much life had ended here, I could practically sense the concentrated echoes through the Force of those who had perished. My talent for postcognition was almost non-existent and yet I could still pick up on it. I could only imagine how Master Vos or a future Kal Kestis would react to a place like this.

Anakin could also sense it, judging by the look on his face as we both jumped into the pit.

‘Snips, is there another way?’

‘There is always another way, Skyguy. There is always a choice. Just not one that leads to us getting those blueprints of Dooku’s fortress home. I even ran the probabilities in us trying to steal it from this place. We will have too little information on the security measures D’rarel has and not enough time to gather it before Dooku leaves, we get discovered and it turns into a bloodbath.’

‘Sithspit,’ he cursed.

The spectators of the D’rarel clan, who were seated all around the pit and filling the place with a low level din of chatter, burst into both cheering and jeering when Vondur appeared at the entrance of the gladiatorial arena. 

Our stenax opponent already had his swords in hand and basked in the eager praise, whilst scowling and threatening those who jeered at him, as he walked down the steps.

The emotions in the room skyrocketed and I could tell at once that Vondur was splitting the crowd right down the middle. Some hated him, others supported him, but it was simply a matter of supporting the stenax against the ‘off-worlders’. I had so far not sensed anything remotely close to affection or even love amongst these people. Lust was there, but if love was somewhere it was such a small sliver that I couldn’t hope to pick it out amongst all the generally awful emotional background noise.

Vondur jumped and the thump of his landing on the soft earth of the pit floor was strong enough that I felt it through the soles of my shoes.

He didn’t make any flourishes with his blades or tried to show off any skill, but just from the way he moved I could tell that he knew what he was doing and had decades of experience on his side. It revised my estimate for his actual age to eighty or ninety standard years. That anyone survives at all to such an age in this culture was enough for me to be especially wary of this fight.

Neither Anakin or I could use the Force overtly. The best we could do was internal fortification, battle precognition and other passive abilities. We also couldn’t go too deep into the supernatural feats because it would be immediately obvious to the Force Sensitive stenax that D’rarel always kept by his side.

The clan leader didn’t have any throne here but he had a prominent seat with the best view of the pit.

He stood and immediately silence fell.

“Today, you may witness and enjoy this battle. It is my gift to you. With it, another day will be bearable. May the Penance end!”

The stenax chorused, “May the Penance end!”

D’rarel raised his hand. “When my hand falls, the battle may begin. It only ends in death. Vondur, are you ready?”

Our stenax opponent fell into a loose, low stance, feet wide and blades casually held up. “Ready!”

“Off-worlders, are you ready?”

I met Anakin’s eyes and we both pulled out our blades from their scabbards, the tongues of flaming torchlight glinted on them. He dropped the scabbard, but I kept mine in my left hand.

He fell into something like a blend of Djem So and Soresu, but when combined was enough to not recognizably be something from the Jedi arts at first glance.

I knew that I had to be always mobile, as there was no way I could get into a believable strength contest with Vondur. So, I widened my stance and got on the balls of my feet, almost adopting an Ataru dynamic stance, but threw in how a boxer would always stay moving and practically danced on the spot. My blade I held outward horizontally and I kept my eyes on the opponent’s entire body and not focusing on a single spot.

“Ready,” Anakin called first.

“Ready,” I said.

D’rarel smirked and lowered his hand without stringing it out.

Vondur burst into motion, charging straight for me.

His right blade lunged forward into a stab right for my heart, whilst his left fended off and guarded Anakin’s rush to intercept.

I waited until the last possible moment to twist, dodge and deflect the incoming blade, moving left.

I heard the clang of blades on Vondur’s other side as Anakin attacked.

Then I got a faceful of sharp edged wing from our opponent.

Forcing me to also duck and abort any attempt to slash at his back and side.

I made him pay for it though, by scoring a slash on that same wing, leaving a deep cut that hit the articulating bone of the wing itself.

My feet carried me out of range and I reset my stance as Anakin pulled all of Vondur’s attention to himself by rapidly attacking with slashes and stabs to his midsection.

In any other situation, this fight would’ve been over right there. Force Speed and a stab straight into Vondur’s back, would’ve ended it.

Instead, my conventional attack and lunge was heard by our opponent and he forced Anakin to turn enough, so that his left blade could meet mine and guide it off course in a very nicely timed riposte.

That forced me to retreat to avoid his longsword hacking off a montral.

Vondur naturally wasn’t as fast as we were. He was big, strong and the cube square law very much applied. The stenax were well aware of these limitations and had clearly adapted a style to match and compensate.

Even if we were fast enough to get around and attack his back, he was perfectly willing to use and sacrifice his wings to stop the attack long enough for a blade to take over. I wasn’t strong enough to chop through the wing bones, not without possibly getting my sword stuck there. That would leave me too vulnerable and I’d get my enemy’s blade in the gut for my trouble.

Anakin and I circled our opponent warily, whilst Vondur turned on the spot, keeping his swords as threatening barriers to any attack from us.

The crowd roared and cheered, shouting alien obscenities and encouragement to both sides of the battle.

‘Master, Fake Out Three?’ I suggested, referring to one of our many combined move sets we had worked out for when we fought against a singular formidable opponent.

‘No, his reach is too long for that and we can’t be fast enough. Shadow Five.’

‘Got it.’

I started to move slightly faster and Anakin moved slower.

Then swung my blade threateningly for Vondur’s left knee, just to keep him guessing.

He deflected and batted my strike away easily, whilst also fending off a similar attack from Anakin.

The clash of our blades rang in my montrals as we kept the dance going.

Sure enough, I was catching up with Anakin and it seemed perfectly random and natural, as our blades kept testing Vondur’s defenses and probing for weaknesses.

‘Just remember, Skyguy. We’re the entertainment. We can’t end this too quickly.’

‘Well aware, Snips.’

When we were almost side by side again, Anakin struck.

His blade thrust straight towards Vondur’s shoulder.

Vondur blocked, but Anakin, using the Force to augment his strength just enough, gathered the enemy’s blocking blade, twirled and pushed in deeper, threatening to send both weapons into Vondur’s chest.

Our opponent was forced to bring his left blade in to counter that.

I stepped forward in the moment after, my own blade piercing through the created gap.

Vondur was forced to bring forward his left wing to shield himself, but my last moment edge alignment change meant very bad news for him.

My blade stabbed right through the meaty part of the wing, missing the hard bone he had tried to use, the tip continued and also stabbed into Vondur’s left shoulder with a few centimeters.

“ARGGH!”

I pulled my blade out and withdrew, making sure to impart a downward force, cutting more of that wing.

Then I fell into a backwards roll to get out of Dodge.

Vondur shoved his blades forward and Anakin was forced to also disengage, lest he be bowled over by the sheer weight and momentum.

Once again Anakin and I were apart on either side of Vondur. Despite his anger in trying to get revenge on me for the wound, he recognized that it would leave himself too vulnerable, especially with a wing utterly out of commission.

There had been no obvious weakness… so we cooperated to create one.

The crowd cheered and shouted, which reached new heights, now that blood was spilling properly in the pit.

Let it not be said that Vondur was on the ropes at this point. On the contrary, the injury I had dealt would only spur him on further.

As was demonstrated when he stopped being mostly reactive and defensive. He clearly felt he had gotten our measure and was figuring out how to best cut through our defenses and kill.

I had to suddenly duck and roll to stop my head from being taken off.

He followed it up by charging after me and even before I had properly risen to my feet, I had to fend off numerous slashes and stabs in my inner ring of defense, from both of his blades.

This happened within less than a few seconds and only my battle precognition saved me from being cleaved in two.

Anakin charged in a second later and Vondur at first only used one blade to defend, but was quickly forced to bring the other into play.

My master was rightly furious and the flurry of slashes and stabs he sent the stenax’s way was bordering on supernatural.

The crowd cheered and I sensed their amazement.

I rejoined the fight with an attack straight to Vondur’s lower legs, threatening to cleave his equivalent of an Achilles tendon.

The fight could've ended right there, but I was doing a delicate balancing act - preserving our image as street smart smugglers albeit skilled with blade and blaster, entertaining a crowd of bloodthirsty stenax to D’rarel’s satisfaction and eventually, believably kill Vondur.

So instead of cleaving that tendon, my attack was just slow enough for our opponent to notice and react.

He stepped forward into Anakin, causing my slash to miss by millimeters. Then brought his left blade around to slash at my stomach.

My own weapon was still flowing back to its guard position, so I was forced to use distance control - his sword’s tip missed me with centimeters to spare.

Without speaking, Anakin and I attacked high and low respectively.

My aim was for the knee, whilst Anakin attacked Vondur’s neck.

What needed to happen next was gonna suck, big time.

I was just that tad too slow on my feet and didn’t bring my blade back in time for a proper defense.

My face adopted an outward mask of panic and then I cried out in pain as Vondur managed to cut my back, just over the right shoulder blade as he brought his weapon down.

He had tried to capitalize on my mistake by stabbing straight down into my shoulder, hoping to leave his entire sword buried in my guts.

My subtle forward dodge prevented that.

My blade was in position though to prevent him from simply kicking me with those sharp claws on his feet.

I rolled away desperate to make some space and ‘recover’.

The crowd went wild as the first off-worlder blood was spilled in the pit.

“Run little female, I’ll deal with you soon,” Vondur sneered and I tried my best to hang onto the frightened expression, my legs shaking even as I internally began working with the Force to stem the blood flow and encourage healing.

My act was so good or he was that arrogant, he even turned his back on me to devote his full attention to Anakin.

‘Ahsoka!’

‘I’m fine, master. Just a cut. If we win this unscathed it’d be too suspicious. Now focus and kick his ass!’

I pulled out a palm sized emergency bacta patch from a belt pouch and wriggled it into the collar of my shirt and slapped it down straight on the wound.

To the sound of steel clashing rapidly and the roar of the crowd, I pretended to go through a recovery period, psyching myself back up and glaring at Vondur’s rapidly shifting form as he and Anakin clashed.

My feet bit into the pit floor as I sprinted back into battle.

Vondur managed to hear me coming despite the crowd noise, making me raise my estimation of stenax hearing considerably. 

We had to wrap this up.

We could string this fight on technically for hours and utterly exhaust Vondur to death, but that wasn’t the point and if we had to maintain our cover, we could not go beyond seven or nine minutes.

No one, who wasn’t a professional fighter, had the stamina generally to go beyond that.

Vondur himself was also breathing hard at this point, as Anakin had truly tested the boundaries of using the Force in his application of strength.

However, instead of simply charging in stupidly as Vondur expected me to do, I suddenly fell to one knee just beyond his outer ring of defense.

My blade twirled in a two handed grip and I gave a massive swing over my head…

… and released the vibroblade.

To the crowd it was the desperate move of an offworlder on her last legs, who was wounded and fighting to survive in any way.

Vondur’s surprise was total as my weapon spun through the air end over end toward him. The vibroblade was not balanced as a throwing weapon. You couldn’t really know or time it in any conventional sense, to make sure the tip of the blade came round in time to do its lethal work.

We were close enough that his reaction time wouldn’t allow him to bring his left sword around to deflect. If he were a Jedi, that would be a different story.

In the end, my blade’s edge alignment was just that tad off. It did not pierce itself straight into the gap between Vondur’s rear rib cage and spinal column, but it did lodge into the skin below that and cut deep as the blade spent its momentum.

The vibroblade’s handle came round and slammed into his muscled back, before gravity took hold and started pulling down.

“ARRGGH!”

The pain and distraction was enough.

Anakin batted aside Vondur’s right blade and stepped inside his guard…

Only to bury his vibroblade straight up into the stenax’s gut all the way to the hilt.

The tip of the weapon erupted from Vondur’s neck.

The stenax gasped and twitched, his entire body stiffening as he struggled to draw breath.

Anakin gritted his teeth and pulled, rolling away with the vibroblade as quickly as he could.

Pink blood gushed out of the huge wound channel, then stopped, before another gush came out in time with Vondur’s desperately beating heart.

The stenax fell to his knees at first, then just collapsed into a nerveless twitching mass of muscle, leaking blood in spurts that after four beats… stopped.

The crowd around us was instantly silenced.

I wearily stood up, gasping and pretending to be out of breath, but readying myself to dispel the act and draw my hidden lightsaber in an instant.

All eyes turned to D’rarel.

The cunning stenax stood to his full intimidating height and raised a sharp pointed eyebrow, “Well now… this… is unexpected.”  

The probability lines shifted and suddenly narrowed to two paths.

D’rarel gazed at his audience; his clan, his family.

Then his sharp eyes glared down at me and Anakin, “Victory is yours it seems!” The crowd started cheering and jeering equally. D’rarel raised his hands to calm them down and bring silence again. “A deal is a deal, but… we must talk before I honor my end.” He looked at his clan. “Leave. Now.”

There was clear confusion, but they didn’t dare disobey such a command from the clan leader.

When we were alone with only Vondur’s cooling body for company, D’rarel jumped down into the pit.

He started clapping with a smirk and came to a stop within arms reach.

“Well done. I must say it’s been so long since I’ve seen your kind. I thought the Sentinels were extinct from your Order.”

I controlled my reaction well enough, but Anakin just missed the mark.

“What?!”

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A/N: *Sigh. Anakin's just not really cut out for the spy business is he? he he. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and have a brilliant weekend. Stay awesome!