Jedi Stowaway Ch. 03

Moments after the two had escaped the Dark Lord Montagu; they had slid into the shadows. A green Rodian wearing the distinct military gear common among mercenaries entered the cargo hold. He was clearly inspecting the ship's ramp before they entered the planet's atmosphere. No doubt the ship's computer had told the crew their ramp was open. Shaere Learta pulled her young apprentice into hiding as he entered the ship; placing her open palm against his mouth mere seconds before the mercenary entered. The ramp's pistons hissed as it closed slowly.

Once the coast cleared she relaxed; releasing hold of her apprentice as she leaned back against a crate. Both Jedi were breathing heavily; relieved that they survived the encounter, yet still on edge. Shaere's long strawberry blond hair; which normally remained smooth and flowing, was now a complete mess. She did not attempt to fix it as her apprentice leaned into her side.

She let out a sigh of relief as she looked down at her apprentice through her tribal blindfold, for she was a Miraluka. Without eyes, she relied on the Force to see, and the aura her apprentice gave off stirred troubling thoughts. He was still young and struggled with his emotions; so she expected to see his conflicting aura. Yet she was unprepared to help him sort out his feelings. The Sith Lord had proven to be stronger than she expected; without her apprentice's help she would not be sitting here.

Shaere opened her mouth to comfort the young man when he spoke up.

"We should contact the Arcadian Fist and meet up with them. If Montagu got that close to us once, surely he'll do it again."

"That would be wise. We'd have to sneak into the comm room."

They discussed plans and started to sneak further into the ship. It wasn't a pretty ship, rusty and old. By the sounds of echoing voices the crew members were split between the mess hall and cockpit. Achilles hugged the wall as he quietly moved down the hall, reaching out with the force. He believed he knew where to go and slowly progressed towards it.

His master paid close attention to each mercenary's life force, making sure both they both kept hidden. They reached the comm room incident-free. Achilles reached out to his friends for help.

*****

Nicholas Fury ducked low as blaster fire soared over his head. The large muscled man fought while covered in sweat; pain shot up his sore back. Sweat poured down his brow, threatening to drop into his eyes. He wiped the sweat off his scared brow; feeling the full extent of his mission as he bent down. A simple mission that turned sour real quick.

Sith troopers had invaded a republic bank and the Arcadian Fist's crew responded to the distress call. It had just been a small squad, easily dealt with. Quickly the bank returned to Republic hands. Or so they thought. No one had expected a counter attack to their 'counter attack'. It had to have been twenty five or so troopers, with a Sith commander.

Blaster fire seared the wall behind him, flying over head as if raining hell upon his cover. The retired republic trooper silently cursed at himself as he checked his weapon. Rising to take a few pop shots remained out of the question -- too many targets aiming in his direction. All it would take is one lucky shot to end his life. Just when he thought all options were lost, a new hope screamed off to the side.

"Whoa, quite the fire works show you've got going on, sir." Beeping caught the vet's attention as he turned just in time to see two red lights fly through the air. "See how you like these apples, you Sith scum!"

Two loud explosions shook the building as Omaj hulled his large cannon off his back. The sounds the weapon made were like music to Fury's ears. "Oh yeah! Take that you pathetic lackeys!!"

Nicholas laughed along with his old friend, as he rose to join in on the new chaos of the evening. Fury had requested the man join his crew a few months after the incident on Kashyyyk, and he never regretted it. Empire troopers fell left and right yet there were no signs of the Sith. His lightsaber could change their good luck in a heart beat. A blaster bolt sizzled inches away from Omaj's head yet the crazy man kept firing and laughing as if it had missed by a mile. He truly was insane! Fury on the other hand ducked down each time a bolt closed in on his location.

Several bolts bombarded his location as he hid down low. Fast moving foot steps approached him once the bombardment of blaster fire ceased. The vet's eye brows scrunched up as the realization hit him. Only one being would charge towards a defensive position during a fire fight. He spun around to face his comrade and rolled. He had fully expected a shaft of light to cut through his cover. Omaj had been too busy blasting away to notice anything amiss.

He turned expecting to see the Sith as he kept backing up. Yet the distinct red and black armor of the Empire's troopers was all he saw. The brave man rushed towards him with a vibro-blade. The old man looked at him incredulously as he braced for combat, ready to parry. A stray bolt ricocheted off the ground, striking his armored leg. The armor did its job and protected his leg but it still threw him off balance. The other trooper swung at him and he barely parried. A kick to his burning armored leg sent him falling to the ground. The knife swinging down to impale his chest.

Fury's head hit hard as he was thrown to the ground. The world blurred and he caught a glimpse of light reflecting off the knife as it plummeted down to end his life. So this was how it ended?

A loud blast caused his ears to ring. A rather large hole exploded from the Empire trooper's chest; smoke rose from the wound before the lifeless body fell back. Strong hands gripped under fury's arms and pulled, dragging him backwards.

"What'd you leave cover for, old timer?!" Omaj ridiculed him as he was pulled to safety.

"Got spooked out of hiding. Thought he was the Sith."

"Haven't seen the bugger, wonder where he got off to?" Said the man with a few screws loose in his head.

"Right here!"

They both looked up as a man in black robes soared through the air towards them, crimson blade raised above his head, pointing down at them.

Fury rolled to the side as Omaj leapt back. The blade burned through the ground, sending sparks everywhere. The Sith landed with a roll and kicked fury in the gut; sending him sliding off with the wind knocked out of him. The blade raised and spun as Omaj targeted the man with his cannon. Crimson light sliced through the weapon like a knife through butter. The weapon twirled, filling the man's vision with red. His life flashed before his eyes within the twirling light of the lightsaber.

The ground shook violently and both men lost their footing. Debris fell from the ceiling, a large piece falling on top of the Sith. He had rolled out of the way at the last possible second however. Omaj lay upon his back and arched his neck to look above him. An engine roared outside the building and familiar metal came into view of the windows.

The Arcadian Fist!

"Let's go!" Echoed from the ship's external speakers. Both men rose to their feet and ran towards their ship; one of them with a slight limp. Anubis had always been notorious for arriving at the most opportune moment.

"So long nerf herder!" Omaj called back as they jumped through the bank's large window. The Sith responded with a frustrated yell as his prey escaped. His angry face hidden in the shadow of his hood.

*****

Once on board the ship took off for orbit.

Fury entered the cockpit and complimented his pilot for a timely rescue, before looking at him with confusion.

"Why are we leaving? Circle around and get back to the mission. We're not fleeing with our tails tucked firmly between out legs."

"Republic commandos are entering from the north end with a pair of Jedi. We've been tagged and congratulated for holding the fort for as long as we did, well as you did, captain." Anubis responded, looking over his shoulder.

"Oh, alrighty then."

Omaj burst into the room spraying curses left and right. "That bastard cut Betty in half!"

The other two men rolled their eyes. Betty being the name he had given his gun. The man sure loved his guns. He didn't linger long, most likely went off to polish his remaining stash of weapons.

As the spaceship cut through the atmosphere a flashing light on the dashboard went unnoticed. Another mission had been completed, or at least finished for them. Others would finish the actual mission. They had answered the distress call and saved the civilians. That's all that mattered to Nicholas Fury. Let others worry about landmarks and buildings. He reclined in his seat and got comfortable as the stars came into view. Space travel felt nice and relaxing, nothing but vast open space. Heavy eyelids began to close when at last he noticed the flashing light.

"How long has that been flashing?"

Anubis looked down and then shrugged his shoulders. "Not sure. Must have gotten a holo-call while I was rescuing you two lug nuts."

"Well, let's see it." Fury sat back up in his chair as Anubis nodded and pressed a few buttons.

A three dimensional hologram formed on the dash. The figure looked worn down and scared. It only took a fraction of a second to recognize young Achilles, the Jedi stowaway that had joined their crew for a few years.

Three-seven--- their astromech droid--- rolled into the room as he went about maintaining the ship. The droid chirped and beeped as it noticed the hologram. Clearly the droid remembered the boy.

"Captain, we are in need of your assistance. Lord Montagu found us and we barely escaped his trap. We have snuck onto a ship called 'Starchaser' only to find it to be a mercenary ship. We haven't been discovered yet. I have activated my tracker and I hope this message gets to you before --"

The message suddenly blurred and fizzled just as shouting was heard. The image of Shaere formed as she whispered into her padawan's ear. The shouting got louder and it was clear they had been discovered, the ship's computer no doubt alerting the crew of the holo room being in use.

Two large men in plated battle armor pushed the Jedi just before the hologram closed down, ending the call. Mercenaries! It was clear that Shaere had told nineteen year old Achilles not to fight back. There were advantages to hiding your identity while out in space. People let their guard down when they didn't realize they were dealing with Jedi. Had they only been in their Jedi robes it wouldn't have mattered. But they had been traveling across the galaxy for a year and had been making subtle changes to their attire the whole time.

"Do you have a reading on his tracker?" The captain asked his pilot, getting a nod in response. "Good. Lock onto it and patch me into the grey order. Seems like a good time to call in those favors."

"Sure does, sir. Patching you in now."

Disappointment quickly followed, however. Apparently the spaceport and the Republic bank weren't the only places hit by the Sith. The gray order's base on Hoth had been hit hard and the entire planet of Vosh was now under Empire control. The Grey Order was practically wiped out, the survivors calling themselves the Grey Remnants or something. It was all rather sudden and Nicholas didn't know how to handle it.

"Let's rescue our boy. Never should have let him leave the ship." The captain had blood boiling in his veins.

"At least he wasn't with the Order. He's a smart lad, he'll get through this."

Fury nodded, "Yes, yes he is. I'll go tell Omaj the news." The Grey Order had been a renegade Jedi master's creation. It was sad news to hear that most of the Order had been killed.

The Acardian Fist had taken on smuggling runs for profit and didn't get to know too many of them. Yet it still stung that the Empire had delivered quite a blow to the Republic. Open war was inevitable but the Grey Order had openly stated having no ties to the Republic, meaning that by wiping them out, the Empire hadn't broken the Treaty of Coruscant.

The Arcadian Fist altered course and set intercept coordinates with the Star Chaser.

*****

Darth Montagu idly scratched at the scar across his face, a firm reminder of his hatred towards that boy! Fire burned in his heart at both the insolent Jedi whelp, and his own obnoxious master. His sinister master had the nerve of suggesting He wasn't fit to be his apprentice! The time had come for the student to become the master. The only question that remained, how?

"Excuse me, sir." A nervous crewman approached him at his command chair.

The Sith Lord answered with an uninterested wave of his hand.

The man took five shaky steps forward and saluted.

"We've tracked down the ship called Star Chaser and alerted them of their stowaways. They have responded with confirmation of their new captives. However there were no mention of Jedi, just a boy and his blind mother."

The man looked like he expected to be punished for the information. Darth Montagu was after all known to rule with fear.

But the news made him laugh.

"Clever boy, hiding in plain sight. I bet those imbeciles didn't even search the Jedi for weapons." A light went off in his head, and suddenly the perfect plan to fix both problems at once came to him. "Send them coordinates for Odacer-Faustin, and I shall alert my master of their arrival."

"At once, My Lord." The officer bowed and excused himself, moving off to follow his orders.

Montagu clasped his hands together and leaned back in his chair. The greedy vermin could be useful after all -- to give the boy as an 'offering,' and let them duke it out.

The victor would no doubt be weakened, and would be easy pickings for Montagu to swoop in and finish the job himself. The thought made him laugh, a wicked and loud laugh. He couldn't help it.

The entire crew, meanwhile, hunched over their consoles. They all hoped he wouldn't talk to them and completely thought him to be mad.

Shortly after he had the crew set coordinates for his master's base of operations. The muscles in his face burned from over use. It wasn't every day the man smiled.

*****

Crimson blades clashes against each other as two figures dressed in black attacked with furious precision. Freezing winds threatened to lock up their body's movements. Their feet sunk into ankle deep snow with every step, making their sparring match more exhausting than it should have been.

Duran out weighed his counterpart by a good sixty pounds, all of it solid muscle. Even though the younger man would swear otherwise. He had broad shoulders and used the reach of his arms to his advantage. The snow was bunching up on his boots and lower pants, refreezing into ice chunks that slowed him down. Normally his bulk gave him an edge, but not in this climate.

After a few months you'd think he would have gotten used to it and adapted. That wasn't the case for Duran. It had been exactly the case, however, for his counterpart Nicter. A scrawny boy who made exercising look like an urban myth.

Small and light, and with the aid of the force Nicter was able to stay above the snow, mostly. The one problem with his size; the cold wind seeped into his bones. It made him feel brittle. They had been sparring for a good half hour without either gaining advantage over the other. The sweat on their bodies were freezing and drawing out their anger.

The smaller of the two leaped into the air, spinning over Duran, intending to land a blow upon his back. Only to have the larger man turn his body slightly to the side; just enough for the blade to whiz by him, missing its mark by a hair.

Nicter hugged his legs against his chest with his other arm. Just before he intended to uncurl and land on his feet he felt a powerful yet invisible hand slam into his back, forcing him down into the snow.

The force move flattened his body, like a can full of pressure bursting open. With his body stretched out, the snow felt like a brick wall as he squashed into it. The first strike of the fight and it went to Duran. It should have been his! That daring flip should have caught the freezing lager man off guard.

Another figure moved slowly towards them, dragging her feet through the white snow. Sith women were more dangerous than you'd expect. Their size meant nothing. This one in particular. Built like a warrior, solid, tight muscles, without an ounce of fat on her. She had an intimidating presence and if she headed their way, there was a reason for it.

The long and cold fight would be left unfinished and unsatisfying -- until next time.

"The Master requests your presence, Duran," Orthia said, with a hint of contempt on her voice.

The planet of Odacer-Faustin; a frozen wasteland with one dark secret. Home to a handful of Sith, in a rather large facility for a secret base.

Darth Sparrowshock claimed the site after its previous owner had disappeared. The entire 'base' had been in ruins when he had arrived. There had been an explosion, yet no bodies. The records showed the location as a fully functional training facility.

There should have been dozens of bodies. Something bad had happened, but there were no answers as to what. Yet Sparrowshock couldn't care less. There was another reason for his claim on the site. It had everything to do with a selection of holo-recordings on the work that had been done here, in the shadows, in pursuit of a potion for immortality.

As impossible as that sounded, it made sense, Dark science. Either research on the potion had worked -- or it had gone horribly wrong. Sparrowshock believed the latter. He had arrived several months ago and had begun reconstruction with a handful of 'students' he acquired from the Empire. His research had begun shortly thereafter. There were ten students in total, five males and five females.

One of those students had gone with his apprentice during the battle of Kashyyyk. She had returned badly injured by a Jedi. Sparrowshock had his doubts, Montagu had a temper like no other. It was more likely that he had caused the injury. She had a deep lightsaber burn from her left shoulder down across to her right hip. He had nursed her wound ever since and she still struggled each day.

Currently he had Rose strapped to a lab table. The Darth had concocted a new batch of the potion and he remained hesitant to use it. However the opportune moment with a dying test subject wouldn't last forever. It had been a miracle that she'd survived this long. A small amount of the possible death juice held within his hands. He stared at it and caused the liquid to whirl around in its container as he pondered using it.

The laboratory door slid open and in walked a snow covered Sith student; leaving a trail of water in his wake.

"You.. Uh... Asked for me, sir?"

"Yes, I may have need of your assistance, if this goes poorly."

Meaning he needed someone to dispose of a dead body. The task obviously beneath him. The injured woman on the lab table became too weak to fight against her bonds. It wouldn't be long before she died anyways. He might as well use the potion and hope against hope that it'll work as planned.

He had done alterations to the holocron's instructions. There'd be only one way to find out if he worked along the right track. The Sith Lord leaned in and forced the concoction down Rose's throat. The poor woman choked it down, and nothing happened. She appeared to have passed out, but her breathing remained heavy, as if she snored.

"Well that was anticlimactic." Sparrowshock sighed in frustration.

There weren't any notes on how it worked. Mainly because it never worked as intended. It had been tested and a form of zombie plague unleashed. Or at least that's what he gathered from all the clues around the complex. The dark lord was about to leave the room when Rose's body began to have a seizure, violently shaking within her bonds.