Chapter 21 to those who are waterborne
Keena was the first to descend the ramp. Preston greeted her affectionately, starting with a hug that ended up with a kiss. It was not the kiss a mother might give a son, though their age disparity allowed for that, but he was sufficiently moved by the affection that he didn’t sense anyone being disturbed.
“You’re cold. Are you feeling alright?” Keena asked.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Preston said, moving to meet the next one down the ramp.
Keena was followed by Licon, Yerd, and Isho. Licon got a simple handshake. Yerd got handshakes, too, but Preston took Yerd’s hand in both of his, pausing only to ensure eyecontact was established, before he turned to his sister. Isho received a more affectionate greeting. Shade was the last to descend.
“Make way, make way, I want a hug, too,” Shade said.
It difficult to hug someone of Shade’s size, but she apparently appreciated Preston’s effort. He turned to introduce the arriving party to his friends. The joy of greeting his newest friends slowly slid from his face as he tried to understand the unspoken messages being projected at him. He wished telepathy was his forte. Corissa crossed her arms in front of her chest. He decided it was probably best that telepathy wasn’t his thing.
“Something wrong?” Preston asked.
“As your lawyer, I have to advise you to be more selective with whom you associate,” Lestelle said.
“As her associate, and my client, I have to agree,” Favelle said.
“Now, now, let’s be civil,” Shade said.
“After all, I do have information and tech that you need to stop the Bloodhunter.”
“I’m sure we can’t afford your prices,” Nolasco said.
“I’ve already taken care of that,” Preston said.
“Preston, I thought we had a conversation about you making deals without going through the committee,” Corissa said.
Preston shook his head. He did recall that conversation, but he wasn’t aware that it pertained to all business transactions.
“As Daphne pointed out, as long as I am being hunted, all of you are in danger. I am working towards ending that threat. Shade, show them what I bought.”
Yerd put a holographic projector on the floor and activated it. A ship as large as a Star Destroyer became prominent, the scale for discerning being the two Star Destroyers near it as construction was nearing its completion. It was basically cylindrical in appearance, flaring out at either ends. The main thrusters were on ring that jutted off towards one of the ends.
Yerd explained what they were looking at.
“This is Chiliad. It is both a Droid manufacturing plant and a spaceship. More specifically, it is a mobile harvester and manufacturing plant, it’s sole product Bloodhunters, in all of their variety. It is programmed to nest in uninhabited systems, where it harvests resources to comlete its function. It is a completely automated, self sustaining, self repairing vehicle, comprised of a thousand Droid super-AI’s networked together to create a super-ego that governs over all operations. In order for Preston to be removed from the register, or the hit list, he must approach the ship, transmit this clearance code, board this ship through this service hatch, staying within the confines of the human section, as it the only section pressurized to support organics, proceed to one of these five terminals, and place this acces key into the pedestal along with a sample of his blood, which the pedestal itself will extract. Without these two ingredients, the terminal will not unlock. Once you have gained acces, you must enter the appropriate command codes, delete him from the registry, and then force a push to update all redundant memory caches, both local and remote.”
“How many of those things are there?” Nolasco asked.
“Hard to say,” Yerd said, shrugging.
“It’s capable of reproducing itself. So, depending on how focus it was on making Bloodhunters, the availability of resources, the number of times it had to relocate to avoid being discovered, are just some of the variables. The Emperor put it into play the last year of his reign; so, it’s been out there awhile.”
“Why don’t we just destroy it?!” Corissa asked.
Yerd shrugged.
“I suppose it’s possible. But you have to remember, these aren’t the clumsy Battle Droids from the old republic. These things are smart. They have Tie Fighters with AI. Their drops ships saucers are fast, maneuverable, and carrying Bloodhunter troops which also come with jetpacks. But, out of the known types of Bloodhunters, the scariest are the automated, antimatter bombs. These are Droid smart bombs with hyperdrive capability and one thing on their mind, target acquisition. And when I say smart, they are insanely brilliant, suicidal bombs that want nothing more than to wipe out a planet. And just one of these Droid bombs could create an extinction level if it got through a planet’s defense system. Oh, but yeah, let’s say you destroy the mother ship, there will be no ability push to update files, so you’re left with all the remaining Bloodhunters, who will now be aimed with vengeance because someone killed their mother.”
“Why would anyone create such a thing?” Jordeen asked.
“The Emerperor was so evil that in the event of his death, he wanted to ensure that certain families didn’t profit or take over, just out of pettiness,” Yerd said.
“And, there was speculation that he wanted to knock as many of us back to the stoneage as possible, but hopefully, that was just rumor.”
“If the Chiliad is intelligent, why don’t we just negotiate with it?” Preston asked. Both parties looked at him as if he were crazy.
“This thing is evil,” Corissa said.
“You can’t talk it down.”
“Preston, she is right,” Shade said.
“This was created with evil intent, evil went into its craft, evil was infused into its circuitry and parts, and evil activated it and deployed it into the field. The Emperor’s hand is all over this. You want to get in there, get your name out of the registry, push the update, and get the hell away from it and hope it doesn’t change its mind and hunt you down just out of spite for boarding it.”
“How do we know your codes and key are good?” Lestelle said.
“I guarantee it,” Shade said.
“That’s not very comforting,” Corissa said.
“It’s good,” Preston said.
“This will work.”
“You’re willing to bet your life on it?” Corissa snapped.
“Yes,” Preston said, involuntarily shaking.
“Now, before anyone becomes alarmed, I am not going to be able to maintain this body much longer.”
“What do you mean?” Nolasco asked, closing the distance.
Corissa also advanced, taking Preston’s arm.
“What have you done? You’re freezing!”
“Look, all I know is you can’t stay here. You must make a hyperjump to an uncharted system, or maybe even between systems, and wait for my return.”
“Where you are going?” Keena asked.
“Not going, I’m already there,” Preston said.
“No,” Corissa said, hugging him to her, but he was gone, like so much smoke.
“Dopplegangers,” Shade said.
“I would sure love to know how he does that!”
♫♪►
Stripped of their clothing and forced to walk across snow and ice, Daphne preceded Preston on what she believed was certainly their death walk. The fact that they were being humiliated and tortured by the cold offered only slim hope that they might not be killed outright, but even with Jedi training, keeping away frost bite and death could not last indefinitely. It was a cold sun above them, in a pale blue, cloudless sky. The horizon was fairly flat and traveled uninterrupted in all directions as far as the eyes could see. The most interesting thing that broke the montonay of the terrain was the chunks of crystal, clear blue ice that captured the sunlight, diffusing it enough that they seemed as if they were self illuminated. They were like large, sapphire diamond capped with snow.
“I’m sorry,” Daphne said, directing a whisper back to Preston.
“For what?” Preston asked.
Daphne allowed herself to look back, trying to determine if he had lost his mind already.
“Really?” she asked, he anger giving her just a little strength.
“Eyes forward, no talking,” Arms Donato insisted.
Nimh gave Daphne a small shove with the butt of her blaster.
After a spell, Daphne tried again.
“I’m sorry for getting you in this,” she directed a whisper.
“Daphne. You did what you thought was right. We are good,” Preston assured her.
In the distance, Daphne could make out several speeders and a group of perhaps six people and some hovering droids waiting for them.
“You do have a plan, right?” Daphne asked.
“You’re not going to like it,” Preston said.
“I said no talking,” Arms said, getting between them and shoving Daphne further ahead.
They arrived at the awaiting group without fanfare. Preston and Daphne were forced to stand upon two pedestals, perhaps three centimeters thick that were resting on black ice. Force fields were activated, surrounding the two prisoners in their own cylinder of light. The force field offered some relief from the wind, but the cold chill remained, having already reached their bones.
Darth Torlin smiled at his victims. If he noticed Preston searching Darth Alyth for recognition, he didn’t show it. Alyth kept her eyes on the ground, which prompted Preston to use a higher sight. He could easily discern that she had multiple innjurries that would make it hard to breathe, but these would not be obvious to anyone not looking for evidence of pain. Apparently she had not increased her metabolism to help counter the cold, most likely because she sought its comfort. The cold numbed her physically and emotionaly. She had been here before, done this before.
“Preston G Waycaster,” Torlin said, radiating a bizarre smile that didn’t feel like his.
“My apprentice here claims you are an incredible escape artist. I find that hard to believe. You wouldn’t care to demonstrate your abilities, now would you?”
There was no laughter, only silence. Preston offered a faint smile.
“I would wager my life that you don’t get out of this one,” Torlin said.
“Fairly high stakes. Are you sure you don’t wish to reconsider?” Preston offered.
Torlin laughed.
“If only my apprentice was this cocky. Maybe it’s her gender?” he said with sarcasm.
“Maybe you should let her trade places with him,” Daphne said.
“Did you hear something?” Torlin turned to Alyth.
“The wind maybe? Oh well. Preston, I have a deal for you. And I do so love making deals. I am going to give you one chance to save your life,” he said, raising a device for show. He pushed a button.
The pedestal Preston was standing on latched onto the ice with extended cleets. The spikes sucked in water from underneath the ice and delivered it to the top of the pedestal. The icy water pooled around his feet and began to rise, as the forcefield didn’t allow it to run off.
“Oh, a little chilly, eh?” Torlin asked.
“Normally, we plunge you right through the ice, but today, I’ve decided to watch you drown. Unlike my apprentice, I do like to be certain that when I kill someone, they stay dead.”
“Stop this?!” Daphne yelled.
“Stop this?!” Torlin mimicked her.
“Tell me, does that ever work? Has anyone ever had a change of heart becaue you demanded it? Try using a Force command next time. Or tears. I do like tears. Almost as much as making deals. I would lick them off your face and savour the salt..”
“I’m going to kill you!” Daphne said.
“Oh, do I hear anger? I know someone who will be easy to turn,” Torlin said.
“You want to keep me from torturing her, Preston? All you have to do is beg for your life, and I will send the water from your container to hers. That simple.”
“Preston,” Daphne said.
“Save yourself!”
Preston said nothing and the water continued to rise. The cold was almost unbearable as it rose from his knees to his thighs. He began to involuntarily shake.
Torlin sneered.
“Why this loyalty? She betrayed you! Say the word, I will spare you and kill her instead. No? You do know that killing her might be much more pleasant than what I intend to do her. Oh! Was that a tell? Did I make a mistake? Should I have made you watch that before putting you in there?”
“Please, let him live. I will do whatever you want,” Daphne pleaded. The water was now mid chest level.
“You’re running out time, son,” Torlin said.
“Once it’s above your head, I won’t be able to hear you ask for a pardon. Ask me to end this. Let me offer you warmth and safety.”
“My life is not yours to take or spare,” Preston said, his voice shaky with cold.
“I belong to the Force.”
Torlin laughed.
“If you start spouting Jedi rhetoric about how you’re about to become stronger, I will expedite your departure,” he said, stepping closer.
“And if you attempt to fool me by holding your breath, I will drop her into the abyss. You will submit to my authority or I will see you drowned. Now, before it’s too late, tell me you want to live! You’ve already proven yourself capable. You’ve bested my apprentice. You’re withstanding this cold. You have demonstrated your loyalty to your apprentice, your friend, but this loyalty is misplaced. You don’t owe her anything. You could be my next apprentice… Just say one word and I will release you. You would be a powerful ally. Think of all the good you could do for the galaxy! Join me…”
The water rose above Preston’s mouth, then his nose, then over his head. His eyes remained opened as he stared out at at Torlin. An electric shock went up his spine and his body quit shaking. His body was shutting down, which was a bizarre feeling ontop of the cold. All he could hear was the rising water in his ears, but he was certain he read Torlin’s lips accurately:
“Sorry, too late. I hope she was worth it,” Torlin said, aiming the remote at Daphne, suggesting if Preston didn’t drown, she would soon suffer similiarly.
Preston emptied his lungs of air and then took water into his lungs. He had imagined he would have better control over his body, but the reflex to resist the water was overwhelming. Fortunately, the struggle didn’t last long and he slipped into unconsciousness. Torlin ignored Daphne’s cryies, pleading for them to let him out, to revive him before it was too late.
The medic stepped forwards, taking scans.
“His heart has stoped, brain activity is decreasing. He’s not faking it,” Venrich said.
“You monster!” Daphne said.
Torlin turned to her.
“You know, I am not sure what is more pathetic, your hyprocracy or your crocodile tears. You are responsible for his death! You did this to him. Oh, what was that? A reaction? You loved him! You slept with him! Oh, this is rich. I don’t know who was the bigger fool, you or him.”
“He was a kind, loving man. He was a Jedi,” Daphne said.
“He was a fool. Because whether he saved himself or not, he should have known, I had every intentions of killing you anyway,” Torlin said.
He pushed the button. The bottom and edges of her pedestal began to glow with heat. As it dropped through the ice, water filled the cylinder she was still trapped in. She struggled to push through the shield, but it held her firm. The pedestal broke free of the ice and she plunged downwards, disappearing into dark waters below. Only a hole in the ice remained.
Torlin turned to the medic.
“Let them float for an hour, then you can have their bodies. One hour. Not a minute before. Alyth, come!” he demanded as he walked towards his speeder, pushing past the Angels, unconsciously challenging.
Captain Harold tried to make eye contact with Alyth, but she remained hidden beneath her cloak, eyes downcast. He made no overt attempts to communicate with her. She knew he was here, and she would give orders or not. Torlin and Alyth’s departure concluded the ritual for everyone but Venrich and his recovery team.
“You can pay me when we get back to base,” Zaira said, turned, and headed back to the shuttle.
Harold rallied the remaining angels and followed Zaira’s lead.
♫♪►
Though she knew she didn’t need the hood, Alarna Byrne remained cloaked as she leaned into the shadow of her booth, observing the staff and patrons. She still wasn’t certain why she had been drawn into this space, but she knew enough to trust her feelings. The drink she was consuming had smoke rising from her cup. The cup and her hands were in the dim light over the table. A band played in the background. A person entered the bar followed by a Droid. The bar tender immediately began to yell: “Hey, can’t you read?! No Droids! We don’t serve their kind here!” And after the bewildered, would-be customer realized his offense, which he probably had just not given it much thought, he and the droid retreated together. Byrne thought that fairly wise, considering the number of Jawas and an equally high number of reports concerning missing droids in this area.
But the Anti-Droid sentiment bothered her. Not because she cared about equal rights for Droids, but rather because Droids were so integral to society that there were few places that they didn’t exist. She began scrutinizing the bar. There were no security cameras. The band was live. No jukeboxes were present. The only computerized component that she could discern was the door lock mechanism and the light control panel behind the bar. Every other machine in the entire establishment was simply limited to on or off: no complex computer chips. Now why would someone go through that much trouble to eliminate Droid intelligence? As she walked backwards in her mind, she recounted the entire street was shy of fixed electronic surveillance. Only the passing of Droids presented with the potential of being surveryors of population and identity hunters.
Byrne stepped up her alertness. Whoever owned this cantina required a higher level of privacy for themselves or their customers or both. That was the only thing that made sense. Only the paranoid, the criminals, or those whom the Emperor had a personal grievance went through so much trouble to limit exposure to electronic eyes. A human’s eyewitness testimony, “yeah I saw so and so…” may or may not be held up in a court of law, but a Droid’s recording was unimpeachable.
“Your drink has gone flat. Want me to refresh it?” the waitress asked.
The waitress was familiar, but nothing Byrne could pin down. She was human, of blended ethincitiy, thin, wearing trousers and a blouse, which was not the typical waitress uniform, which suggested she was more likely a person of authority. She was most likely only fifteen or sixteen years old.
“Have we met before?” Byrne asked.
She smiled politely.
“Don’t usually get pick up lines from the females,” she said.
“Forgive me. I don’t socialize much. I truly suspect that we’ve met before, and I’m having trouble placing you,” Byrne said.
“Well, I don’t recognize you, but then I rarely fill in here. My name is Kish and parents own the place. We’re short staff at the moment. Ummm, do you ever gamble?” she asked.
“I do,” Byrne said, casually.
“Why?”
“Well, if you’ve been to the Underground, I operate a table at my parent’s casino,” Kish said.
“You look like the type that hangs out in the private rooms.”
“That must be it, but I’ve not been to the back,” Byrne said, and then adjusted her voice, to a subtle Force command.
“Invite me.”
The lady seemed to think about it. She leaned in to Byrne, one hand going to her shoulder, and another going into her pocket to retrieve an item.
“I would love for you to visit, if you can afford the buy in. Take this coin,” she said.
“Tell them Kish green lighted you.”
“Thank you, Kish. You’re very kind,” Byrne said.
“You want to sit down and tell me more.”
She sat down as if sitting with a long lost friend, and in a rambling manner that recited facts about Tatooine, most of which was myth. Though there was evidence that Tatooine once had more surface water and a greater abundance of life, no one had come forward to solve the problems of why surface water became more scarce, or how so many of the larger herbavores had managed to survive after the biosphere had been devastated. True enough, the larger creatures were scarce, but there was no doubt that without the interventions from the sentient indigenous species, as well as the efforts of the alien settlers, anything larger than a womprat would be extinct. In establishing the first mining town, Anchorhead, the Czerka Corporation, were faced with several problems, the water scarcity problem, the frequent and often inundating desert storms, and the idigneous sentient life forms who enjoyed pilfering and generally hindering efforts to collect resources. So, they brought in a Droid tunneler and built a subterranean, high speed, superconducting rail to connect three of the cities, and further extending into the Dune Sea. Moisture farmers above ground along the path of the underground, fed the water pipeline that was part of the infrastructure constructed along side the rail. For whatever reasons, the rail services was never completed, and the Droid Tunneler to this day rested somewhere below the dune sea, waiting to be refuel and given more construction supplies. When the Huts took over Tatooine, they found the ‘Underground’ extremely palatable. The tunnels became resendentials areas for those who could afford it and it gave rise to one of the best known underground markets this side of the Galaxy. The coin that Byrne was holding would give her access to an exclusive gambling operation. There was a minimum bid that was usually cost prohibitive for the average person, but the crystals she had in her pocket would certainly get her a seat at a table.
The directions Byrne was provided were perfect and she was passed through to the inner chambers without any suspicions. The first human to greet her as she acclimated herself to the sights and smells of the clandestine casino made her smile. He offered his hands in welcome. She lowered her hood. The man visibly paled, his breath stopped in his chest, and for a moment, and just for the two of them, there wasn’t another sound or sight to be seen. It was as if time had stopped. Then he bolted. Byrne did not chase in the way most predators did. Instead of making a bee line for the prey, she allowed her instinct to direct her to an emergency escape hatch. She followed it up and soon found herself on the surface, just outside a series of five, small, domed garages. Each garage housed a speeder, and several air bikes. The man she was chasing was just about to climb into one of the speeders, before he felt the business end of her blaster rub against his neck, pushing into his jaw.
“Please don’t kill me,” he said.
“Orlov, my old friend,” she sang.
“Eh, keep your hands on the speeder.” She removed one of his knives, pocketing it.
“Please, I have changed. I have children,” Orlov said.
“You don’t know the half of it,” Byrne said, and stunned him.
After binding his hands and feet, she tossed Orlov into the speeder. She delivered him to her ship, secured him properly, told her new recruits to hang tight a little longer, and then she returned to the Cantina where she sat down in the booth with Kish. It wasn’t long before the other part of the story arrived. She boldly approached and sat down across from Byrne. Her face revealed anger, but there was also a slight tremor in her hands that suggested she was also afraid.
“Hello, Jesser,” Byrne said.
“Admiral,” Jesser said.
“Is he still alive?”
“I suspect if you believed he was dead, you would have already shot at me already,” Byrne said.
“I may still do so,” Jesser said.
“I say the word and all these people who are avoiding eye contact with me are going to open fire. I have made powerful friends with the Hutts. You don’t want to get on my bad side.”
Byrne nodded, smiling. She leaned into the table.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. You and I are going to walk out of here together, and you will accompany me back to my ship.”
“What do you want with me?” Jesser asked.
“I need a command crew. I managed to scrounge up a few who would know there way around a star destroyer, but with you and Orlov together, well, let’s just say, it’s obvious that fate wants us together again,” Byrne said.
“Just so you can finish us off, like you did the rest of the crew?” Jesser asked.
“You and Orlov help me with this mission, and I will allow you to return to your cushy, little life,” Byrne said.
“I don’t trust you,” Jesser said.
“Not asking you to. But it is in your best interest,” Byrne said.
“Why?”
“Because if you don’t, your children and your grandchildren will be targeted, most likely kidnapped and tortured indefinitely, and they will never even know why,” Byrne said.
“You are a sick, evil, bitch,” Jesser said.
“I know. But the sad part is, I’m not the one you have to worry about,” Byrne said, an evil smile ripe on her face.
Jesser sat still, studying Byrne, her hatred nearly overwhelming her.
“Stand down, everyone. My guest and I are going for a walk.”
“Just like old times,” Byrne said, standing from the booth.
♫♪►
Venrich had finished washing his hands in a manner that pushed clinincal to obsessive and was about to return to his patients when he gave pause to the mirror. The necklace he wore was common to every citizen of Waterbourne. It was comprised of linked, glossy black rectangles, powered by visible light, that were capable of scanning the environment and the wearer. The necklaces provided intel on every citizen in real time, not just sights and sounds, but biometric information on metabolism, temperature, pulse, and O2 readings. Everything they heard, felt, tasted, and saw was broadcasted and recorded. Theoretically, every citizen had access to any other citizen’s data set, in real time or past recordings. In practicality, the higher you were in the social structure, the more access you had to other people’s data. A person had free access to anyone on their social level, their peers, family, or friends, but they were typically denied access to their superiors. Wearing the telementry devices was the only requirement of citizenship, as it was sold to them that only a hundred percent transparency allowed a society to remain civil and peaceful.
For the first time in his life, his necklace was turned off, on orders of Lord Kilmore himself. It puzzled him, but he had long since learned not to question orders from the top. He only sometimes imagined what it would be like giving up citizenship, turning off the necklace going to live on another world. He imagined how liberating it would be to do whatever you wanted and not be scrutinized. Now, here he was for the first time knowing for a certainty that no one was watching him, and he felt, of all things, lonely.
Venrich had to force himself to return to work, or he would have stared at himself in the mirror until he could understand exactly what he was looking for. To his surprise, not only had Preston risen from his medical bed, but he also had removed his own ventilator tube, catheter, and IV wrist band. He was dressed in his clothes,sitting next to his friend, who had not come out of her coma yet. Preston stroked her hair and sang in a whisper, displaying a kindness the medic had not seen anyone else display in a long time. He didn’t interrupt the song, even after it was finished and he was certain Preston knew he was there, because there was strong urge to sit with the after-song, wanting the stillness to go on for a spell. Prston eyes went to Venrich. He offered a faint smile, not showing teeth. Venrich’s hair was thin, and graying, and he could stand to loose some weight, but overall, he projected a gentleness and wisdom, that similar to Preston’s.
“As a medic, we have a saying, you’re not dead until you’re warm and dead,” Venrich said.
“The cold water spared her any permanent brain damage, but she is still in a coma. She will either wake up or she won’t.”
“I know,” Preston said.
“You have the gift of sight as well?” Venrich asked.
“Gift?” Preston asked.
“Many of us here at Waterborne who have gone through the ritual return with gifts,” Venrich explained.
“I was always a skilled medic, but after rising, I soon discovered I could see into a body, see where energy gets obstructed. I can tell a person what’s wrong with them before the medical scans finish doing their surveys. I have even gained some skills at manipulating energy to release blockages, restoring people to perfect health.”
Preston understood what Venrich was saying, as this was som