Chapter 14 that which is essential
Master Yeno’s home was an hour outside of town, on a hill side, with nothing but fields of wild grain in all directions. The home itself was a large, granite rock that had probably been placed by a glacier. Preston recognized the tell tale signs of Lightsaber work that had gone into carving out the living space. The cut sections sparkled with a glassy sheen, as compared to where the weathered, uncut rock was more dull, but not necessarily unappealing. Yeno carried the body in and laid it near the fireplace. He then invited Preston to sit in the circle outline on the floor, spaced by six pillows available for comfort. Preston waited to be seated until Yeno had taken his place. He chose the pillow closest to the fireplace. Daphne hung back, leaning against the wall next to a doorway that led to a bed room. There were three doors leading away from the main room, none of which had doors, and allowed anyone with direct line of sight to inspect a simple bed, desks, and scattering of books, both real and electronic. He noticed a holocron on a shelf in one of the rooms.
Preston sat down.
“May I see your Lightsaber?” Yeno asked. Daphne tensed. Preston looked back at her.
“I promise I will return it,” Yeno assured him.
Preston handed it over. Yeno accepted, seemed immediately surprised by it’s weight, twirled to see it’s balance, and then closed his eyes in order to explore the inner workings. He grew quiet. Heer was sitting on the fire place, leaning in closer, also inspecting the weapon. Yeno opened his eyes and returned it.
“I’ve not seen its equal in a long time,” Yeno and Heer said simultaneously. Yeno continued: “Who is your master?”
“I’ve none,” Preston said.
“Who trained you in the ways of the Force?” Yeno asked.
“Many have taught me,” Preston said.
“Are you being purposely evasive?” Daphne asked.
“Daphne, please reduce the hostility towards our guest,” Yeno said.
“You’re really angry,” Preston said to her.
Daphne came off the wall.
“You killed my master.”
“I sense that you were angry before that event occurred,” Preston stated.
“How dare you,” Daphne said.
“Enough, Daphne. He is right. You came to us to help you master your anger,” Yeno said.
“I’m confused,” Preston said.
“I thought it was against Jedi policy to take on someone with anger management issues.”
“What do you know of the Jedi ways?” Daphne asked.
Yeno nodded.
“The old ways failed us. I believe by ignoring those with talent, the ones who come into the Force later in life, especially the ones with anger management problems, we allowed the same to be recruited to the Dark Side. Perhaps if we had been more attentive, more embracing of the less disciplined, we could have avoided the culling. If we aren’t training them, someone else is, and clearly you are example of someone who has been well trained. It saddens me that someone of your strength in the Force is not aligned with the Light,” he said.
“You are clearly a full Jedi. I suspect you could earn the rank of Master within a couple of years of joining the order.”
“Tell me you’re not offering to train him,” Daphne said. She pointed fiercely.
“He killed Heer!”
“You’re really going to have to let that go,” Heer said.
“I’m not going to forget that,” Daphne said.
“Or pretend we’re friends.”
“You don’t have to be his friend,” Yeno said.
“But you need to understand him better, and you can’t while you’re holding this grudge. Heer’s told me if he should ever die, I was to cremate his body and return his remains and his Lightsaber to his family. Preston, take responsibility for doing this and I will knight you on your return.”
“Oh, hell, no,” Daphne said.
“I have been training with you for years and you’re going to promote this guy, who openly admits to not being of one us?”
“Excuse me,” Yeno said, standing.
“Your room, now.”
Daphne and Yeno retreated to her room to have a private conversation. Heer was lamenting having taken her on, but he and Yeno hadn’t run acros someone who had had so much natural talent in a long time. Preston went to the side of the body, slowly unwrapped the cloth to reveal the man’s face. Heer looked at his own face with curiosity.
“How could I have ever mistaken that for me?” Heer said.
“I’m sorry I did not recognize the test,” Preston said.
“I should have just given you my Lightsaber.”
“Are you kidding? You did exactly what you were supposed to do,” Heer said.
“Surrender your Lightsaber, indeed! You bravely stood your ground against what looked like bullies. I almost thought you were lying about not being a knight.”
Preston put his hand on Heer’s body, just over the chest where his Lightsaber had pierced Heer’s heart and closed his eyes.
“What are you doing?” Heer asked.
Heer’s physical body started to collapse in on itself, the clothes and shroud caving in. When Preston was finished, Heer’s body, the shroud, and the clothing, had been reduced to a small diamond with a green tint. Yeno and Daphne returned.
“I want to appol… What did you do with Heer’s body?!” Daphne demanded.
Preston offered the crystal.
“I’m sorry, but you did say he wanted to be cremated? I simply compressed his atoms into a diamond. I’m not sure where the greenish hue came from, though.”
Yeno smiled.
“He would love it. Waycaster, I’m entrusting you with presenting it to his parents on Orlon.”
“Oh,” Preston said, now understanding why Heer had asked him to go to Orlon.
“What? Afraid of what his parents will think of you?” Daphne said.
“A little, yeah,” Preston admitted.
“That’s why you must go,” Yeno said.
“And it’s why Daphne must accompany you.”
♫♪►
Geoff Favelle greeted Lestelle warmly and invited her into his office. She sat on the edge of the couch as if she didn’t intend to stay long, but just simply popped in to ask a quick question. He sat down on one of the chair in front of his desk and appraised her.
“You’re looking really good, I mean like, healthy good, and happy,” Favelle said.
“I wasn’t before?” Lestlelle asked, half laughing half serious.
“You looked like a student who was working full time and eating ration bars and you were definitely not happy,” Favelle said.
“But, you didn’t stop here to hear an old man flatter his former intern.”
“I have an ethical dilemma and wanted help resolving it,” Lestelle said. He motioned her to proceed, and listened as she explained the situation with Ten, how she was believed to be dead, but was in actuality alive, and had been transported off world by the tentative approval of her client who believed he was acting in her best interest. Favelle listened, asked a few pointed questions, and then went to his desk and printed something. He handed it to her. It was a photo of Ten.
“That’s her,” Lestelle said.
“Has the news really made it this far.”
“Child abuse and slavery are generally more rampant during and immediately after war, and news like this is most likely being used to fuel political moves, as opposed to resolving any real issue,” Favelle explained.
“For this specific situation, what is your ideal outcome?”
“That’s not my call,” Lestelle said.
“Don’t give me that crap. Tell me what you think, don’t hedge, just spit out your intuition,” Favelle insisted, pushing her harder than he ever did as her supervisor.
“I think she needs to remain officially dead and in the care of Corissa and Preston,” Lestelle answered off the cuff.
“You trust this Waycaster character?” Favelle asked.
“With my life,” Lestelle answered.
Favelle stood up, hit a button on his desk and said, “Merta, emergency staff meeting in conference room A, ASAP,” he said. He turned to Lestelle.
“Come with me.”
Favelle led her to the conference room where several people had already gathered, some sitting at their designated positions, while others, mostly the less senior staff, stood asking questions to see if anyone knew what this was about. The conversations had stopped when Favelle entered. Favelle’s place was at the head of the table, and he had a chair pulled over near him for Lestelle to occupy during the course of this impromptu meeting. Only after everyone was settled, quiet and waiting, did he put the call through. While he waited for a response, he gathered some more information from Lestelle about Waycaster and Fite. She handed him a computer chip and he browsed the information while simultaneously having a computer move relevant data to a new form he initialized. He also did his own legal search on both names. He was interested why nothing came up on Waycaster, for it was extremely rare that a person had no past, not even a birth record, but again, there was often a gap in data during and after a war, and there was also the possibility that he was born in a remote system, or purposely off the grid. Ms. Fite on the other hand had quite a bit of information, one glaringly obvious.
“Were you aware that Ms. Fite was dishonorably discharged from military service?” Favelle asked.
“No. Is that a problem?” Lestelle asked.
“Depends on which courtroom you visit and the disposition of the judge attending,” Favelle said.
They were interrupted by someone answering their call. The conversation started with a secretary who was about to suggest the Mayor was busy, but when she realized who she was speaking with; she asked to have moment to get him. The mayor came online, voice only. Favelle pushed a button and a holgram engaged, putting Mayor Hildago dead center of the table. Apparently, the holographic information was two way, because Hildago had a visual reaction. Hildalgo swallowed, looking around at all the faces in the room, and then back to Favelle.
“Do I need a new lawyer?” Hildago asked.
“That depends on the answers to a couple of questions I have for you, Mayor Hidalgo,” Favelle said.
“If you answer one way, my staff won’t remember this conversation. However, if the answer sets warrant more attention, not only will they all have excellent recall, but also, the recordings of this session might not get lost.”
“Is that a threat?” Hidalgo asked.
“My friend, you pay me to protect you, your family, and your interests,” Favelle said very clearly.
“This recording and their memory would continue to allow me to protect you, even if you’re in prison, so no, not a threat, but a way for me to protect my company. Our firm has survived through several regime changes which is in part due to our high ethical standards, and we are not about to be brought down by criminal activity.”
“Criminal activity? What are you talking about?” Hidalgo asked.
“Are you in any way, shape, form or fashion, involved in or connected to the abduction, movement, selling, and or trading of children for sex or illegal organ distribution?” Favelle asked, point blank.
“Of course not! I have already apprised your office of the scandal going on and that we would get to the bottom of this,” Hidalgo said.
“Hidalgo, I know you engage in some sort of extracurricular activities that might lead to getting fewer votes, so let’s be very clear here. Are you, personally, buying or engaging in illegal sex acts with children?” Favelle asked.
“Never! I’m a good man, how can you even think I would harm a child? I have children!” Hidalgo said.
Favelle looked to one of his staff who was interpreting information being transmitted along with the visual and audio information. Computer information recorded and analyzed in real time respiration and heart rate, body temperature, eye dilation, and the amount of skin perspiration. The staff nodded, non-verbally stating that he believed Hidalgo was telling the truth. This exchange was so subtle, Lestelle had to wonder if anyone else even noticed.
“Tell me about your relationship with Shade,” Favelle said.
“I don’t have a relationship with Shade,” Hidalgo said.
Favelle didn’t even glance over to his lie detector.
“You see, it is responses like that that cause me to doubt our working relationship. I can’t serve you if you aren’t a hundred percent accurate. Now, I happen to know that you arranged for Shade to test your law enforcement’s security systems.”
“That’s not public knowledge,” Hidalgo said.
“How…”
“It’s not public. Probably smart on your side not to let the media get a hold of that one, because it would raise all sorts of questions on why you would hired a suspected criminal to test your law enforcement capabilities,” Favelle said.
“Personally, I think you’re smarter than that, so my only conclusion is that she blackmailed you into covering for her. That makes more sense to me, and it raises my curiosity. What does she got on you that I don’t?”
Hidalgo sighed.
“When you said relationship, I thought you meant romantically. I’m not romantically involved with Shade, but I have done business with her from time to time.”
“Children?”
“Never! Shade herself would kill anyone who asked for that kind of service,” Hidalgo said.
“Why do you keep asking me about children? I don’t harm children.”
“Why do you go to Shade?”” Favelle asked.
“I’m a xenofile,” Hidalgo admitted. He seemed ashamed.
“That’s not cheating, right? It’s not like I’m having an affair or seeing a prostitute. It just me and aliens and, they’re all adults. No children. A few slaves, but most of those slaves willingly became slaves because they wanted better lives than what they were managing on their own, you know? You’re not going to tell my wife, are you?”
“I, personally, think that is something she should know, but it’s not my place to tell her,” Favelle said.
“Now, I need to ask a favor, so if you’re not alone, send everyone out of your office, and if you’re recording, please stop.”
“I’m alone,” Hidalgo said. A few moments later.
“Recording has stopped.”
Favelle looked to his lie detector. He shrugged.
“You know the girl that was supposedly killed. Tenicos?” Favelle said.
“Yeah, I have memorized her bio. This was really sad,” Hidalgo said.
“She’s alive,” Favelle said. He held a hand up to stop Hidalgo from saying anything.
“We believe that her life would be in danger if this information came to light, so again, if you’re recording and you really don’t want to harm kids, I would be doing something about that.”
Hidalgo pushed a couple buttons to stop the recording and deleted information that had been saved.
“Good. I’m forwarding you adoption papers and emergency witness relocation documents. I want your signature on them. I want them marked classified until she is 18 and can legally represent herself and her own interests,” Favelle said.
“I’m not just signing her over to anyone,” Hidalgo said, looking at the pages coming up on his screen. The name didn’t immediately register on him.
“I want to know she’s being taken care of…”
“Yeah, I am sure you don’t want to milk this information for possible future political success,” Favelle said.
“Consider me her lawyer. I will make sure she is well taken care of.”
“Wait, is this Waycaster the Jedi Waycaster?” Hildago asked. Favelle didn’t reveal that he was unaware of the Jedi status.
“I am relieved he is involved. He healed my niece,” Hildago said, starting to electronically sign the documents.
“So, Waycaster and Fite are requesting joint custody?”
“Everyone needs two parents, even if they’re not married,” Favelle said.
“Yeah,” Hidalgo said.
“I was hoping to meet Waycaster. Can you send him my compliments?”
“I will do that,” Favelle said. He received the documents back and inspected them.
“Do you have any questions about what happened here today? Or how serious I am that it continues to appear as if my client is dead?”
“No questions and very clear,” Hidalgo said.
“But you know, some of the players apprehended since the fiasco may get the death penalty for Tenico’s death. It might not be so good politically if it turns out she is alive after punishment has been executed.”
“My firm will handle that fall out, should that happen,” Favelle said.
“Thank you for your time today, Mayor. I wish you and your family well.”
“Thank you...” Hildago was saying, but Favelle turned down the sound and waited for the transmission to end. It finally blipped off.
Favelle turned to his staff.
“Any questions as to what just occurred?”
No one had any questions.
“Very well,” Favelle said, standing as if he were preparing to dismiss his staff.
The door to the conference room opened and a Droid entered.
“What is the meaning…” Favelle demanded
“No one interfere,” said head of security, Jerron Elkin, who was following the Droid. He motioned several other security officers to enter.
“In fact, everyone put your hands on the table, or in the air. If you have a weapon, do not for any reason, touch it.”
Security proceeded to take up strategic positions in the room, but surprisingly, not one was holding a weapon in their hands, which seemed counter to their normal protocol.
The Droid proceeded along the width of the table, scanning faces on the far side as it did, and then turned and proceeded up the length, scanning faces on the closer side. Of course, it wasn’t difficult, as everyone had turned to look at the Droid. It paused three chairs in, bringing an arm up. The man in the chair right before him clenched.
“Please, don’t kill me, I will tell you everything I know,” he said.
The Droid pushed on. As it approached the boss, security became extremely tense and Elkin reminded them not to act unless it was absolutely necessary. The Droid pushed past Favelle and paused next to Lestelle. Again an appendage came up, something extended from its finger, and it brought this up near the side of her face.
“Easy, men,” Elkin said, preparing to engage.
The Droid shot a puff of air that moved her hair and nearly made her jump out of her skin. One of the security officer’s hands touched his weapon and the robot turned to him, but he quickly brought his hands up to the ‘I surrender’ posture. The Droid returned its attention to Lestelle. It again popped her with a blast of air, and then sucked it in, taking a sample reading. The Droid turned its attention to the documents on the desk in front of Favelle. The documents scrolled as the Droid scrutinished them. Its antennae came up, it tilted its head, and headed for the exit.
“Follow it, but no one engages unless it attacks the staff, go,” Elkin said.
As soon as the door closed again, Favelle leaned on his desk with his knuckles white.
“What the hell was that?”
“That was a Bloodhunter,” Elkin said.
“Excuse me for not being up on my Droids classes, but I don’t know that one,” Favelle said.
“Very few do, but that’s the ‘bad’ Droid from the children’s fable,” Elkin explained.
“But instead of abducting misbehaving children, it hunts very specific targets, usually DNA level specific. They were created by the Emperor as the ultimate revenge device should he be killed. It targets general people of interest, or people the Emperor didn’t want to succeed him, or just people he didn’t like. The Droids are remote activated when a person with a specific name or genetic code triggers a Trojan in a computer bank. Apparently your conversation with the Mayor activated a Trojan on their side, which infected our computers. They hijacked our communications system and transmitted a three second hyper burst which will no doubt awaken every Bloodhunter within a 30 lightyear radius. It just so happened that we were unknowingly housing one in our evidence locker. We are now scanning for others, but I believe this to be the only one.”
“And how would such a thing get into storage?” Favelle asked.
“Someone would have had to put it there, of course, possibly before the end of the war,” Elkin said.
“It’s been sitting there in an unmarked crate for a long time.”
Favelle turned to Green, the man who had panicked when the Blood Hunter had paused near him.
“You appear to know about Bloodhunters. Why did you think it wanted you?”
“Oh, no, no, no reason. I was just nervous,” Green said.
Favelle looked to his lie detector. The man shook his head ‘no.’
“Elkin, please secure all of Green’s files and shift them to see if there has been any criminal activity,” Favelle said.
“Please, I’ve been loyal to you for a long time,” Green said.
“I know, and I’m hoping we don’t find anything so that you can retire today,” Favelle said.
“Don’t leave the building. And Elkin, do we know who the Bloodhunter was looking for?”
Elkin nodded.
“We’re pretty sure the trigger was Waycaster,” he said. Lestelle paled.
“I need to make a call,” she pleaded.
“Miss Lestelle,” Elkin said.
“If the Bloodhunter doesn’t already know where he is, your direct call will paint a target on your friend. Further, if you make a call and he illudes capture, and they know you did it, they will come after you and they will use you as bait. If you have any feelings for this person at all, you will forsake any further knowledge of him and delete documents you have that might have his name on it. It probably already suspects you’re a friend, hence it’s interest in you. It probably only left because it has a solid lead. The longer your friend avoids capture, the more that will come for him. This is a done deal.”
“I’m not going to sit back and do nothing,”
“Of course you’re not,” Favelle said.
“Elkin, get the Corvette ready. We’re going to go collect this Mr. Waycaster.”
“Sir?” Elkin said.
“Did you hear my explanation of what we’re up against?”
“I did. And if any person ever earned the wrath of the Emperor, then I want to meet that man,” Favelle said.
“I am just curious, though, of how a man who is presumably 18 standard years old, and who clearly never could have met the Emperor, could have become such a wanted person.”
“It may have nothing to do with him. Maybe it’s his blood line. Maybe the Emperor hated his parents and he wants to make them suffer by making the family suffer,” Elkin said.
“Or maybe it wants him as bait to get to someone else. These Droids have long memories. They don’t have the same artificial intelligence restrictions that we place on service Droids. These Droids are built by Droids, programmed by Droids, and dispatched by Droids. These are nothing like the massed produced, stupid Droids we fought in the Clone Wars.”
“Then maybe you should call for some back up, because we’re going,” Favelle said.
♫♪►
Darth Alyth stood staring down over planet Parlin from the most forward window on the Bridge of the Imperial Class 2 Star Destroyer ‘Deterrent.’ With the orbital defenses obliterated, the task now fell upon her to subdue the established authority. She was close enough to one of the radio engineers that she could hear some of the random calls from the lay population either begging for mercy, or attempting to position themselves to be of use when the local government was toppled, but none of the calls bared the signature of the official governing body. It irked her to no end that they continued to dismiss her power over them.
“Send bombers to take out the space port at Gersu,” Alyth instructed.
“Also take out the military base at Alim Say, and Alim Kkwa.”
Captain Hirche approached.
“There is a call coming in from Darth Torlin,” he said, humbly.
Alyth nearly frowned. It wasn’t in her interest to allow the crew to know she was annoyed by the interruption. She simply nodded.
“I’ll take it in my office,” Alyth said.
“Continue to fire at random targets until someone of interests answers our hail.”
Captain Herche bowed.
Alyth strode down the walk way, her boots sounding out her stride. The boots came up just below mid calf and the shine matched her breast plate armour: polished black. Her skirt and under shirt, the sleeves of which protruded from the breast plate, were crimson. Both arms sported tech blacelets, primary polished black, with gold trim and illuminated buttons. Her hair was solid black and straight, cut with precision angles. The turtleneck of her shirt mostly obscured the tattoo, the mark of her master claiming her as property. It mirrored the link of her master’s own mark, revealing the line of ownership, a particular path of Sith training.
Her office was void of furniture. Once she was centered in the office, a holographic environment emerged, allowing her to see the workings of the ship or the exterior views, as needed. She made these go away and linked to the incoming call. She immediately went to her knee.
“Master, how may I serve?” Alyth asked.
“You’re to recall your bombers and any ground forces you’ve employed and go immediately to Dathomir,” Torlin instructed.
“Lord Kilmore has sensed a disturbance in the Force there.”
“Lord Kilmore frequently senses distrubances which lead to nothing more than a solar flare,” Alyth said.
“Some Jedi farts a hundred light years from here and he is yelling fowl. His days are over, Master. Why do you suffer his presence?”
“It is true, his senses have waned since the Emperor’s death, but he still asserts a great deal of influences over his territories,” Torlin said.
“I’m on the verge of conquering Parlin,” Alyth said.
“There are sufficient natural resources in this system that we could rebuild the Fleet to what it once was.”
“Which is why I sent you there,” Torlin said.
“And now, I am telling you to go to Darthomir.”
“Stopping now will suggest weakness. It will make our job that much harder when we return,” Alyth said.
“I am growing weary of your petulance, child. Need I remind you of who owns who?” Torlin demanded.
“No, Master,” Alyth said, lowering her head.
“I am merely pointing out that I’m on the virge of victory here and that the rewards are great. Do you really want me to go chasing some obscure bit of fluff?”
“In this instance, it may not be fluff, and time is of the essence,” Torlin said.
“Bloodhunters have been awakened. We recorded a signal and apparently it is the second calling, which suggests whoever they are looking for is someone of fair skill or talent, perhaps even Force sensitive. Whoever he or she is, they could potentially be an ally. Lord Kilmore believes we are the verge of another tipping point. I agree with him. Go and bring me the one the Bloodhunters seek.”
“I will do thy bidding, Master,” Alyth said, touching the floor with hands and forehead.
Torling lifted her off the floor with the Force, lifting her primarily by the neck. She knew from experience not to reach for her throat with her hands. It would do no good, and frequently peeved him into escalating the physical violence against her.
“Do not forget that I have power over you, even if you are not in my immediate presence,” Torlin said. The air around her swirled, as if she were in a vortex, her cape, skirt, and hair, twisting up and about and back. Armor or not, he could touch every cell in her body. Visible hand prints pushed into her skin on her arms and legs, leaving brusies in their wake. Bite marks drawing light rings of blood, or hickies where the skin was sucked up. Finger nail scratches went down her neck, back and across the back of her legs.
“I own you. I will use you as I see fit and you will like it. I’ve been too lenient with you, mostly because you get results, but I will not tolerate further insolence. Are we clear?”
Alyth, of course, couldn’t answer, as the grip was that tight about her neck. It was also inside her neck, as if a rag had been forced into her mouth, blocking the passage, preventing her from protesting even if she wanted to. It was torture and erotic at the same time. She responded by completely surrendering, relaxing the muscles eve