Chapter 8
The bartender came to Ten’s table without a drink. “There’s a problem with your credit. Come with me,” he said.
Ten was confused but got up and followed the bartender to his office. She wondered if it was a pretend problem, a show for the people at the table next to her. They didn’t linger in the office, but took the lift up to the floor she had previously met the human trafficker. He invited her to sit at the table.
“He will be here shortly to collect you,” the bartender said. “The mission is go. There is no turning back.”
“Really?” Ten asked. Suddenly she was excited and afraid and overwhelmed with conflicting emotions which caused her to do nothing but sit there. She was mad at herself for being so surprised that this had worked. In her head, Kyoko mirrored her barely expressed thought and they debated: ‘this is too easy.’ ‘this is the Force.’ ‘this is a trap.’ ‘one I intend to spring on them.’
The bartender put a drink in front of her. It looked like milk. “Drink this. Best like a shot. As fast as you can,” the bartender said.
“What is it?”
“Just do it. It’s part of my arrangement with you and has nothing to do with your arrangement with the trafficker,” the bartender said. He came closer. “Do it.” There was a sinister implication that if she didn’t, he would make her drink it.
Ten eyed him suspiciously, but complied. She drank it down fast with intents not to taste it. She nearly threw up. There was no way not to taste it. It was bitter and sweet and too thick. Much thicker than it looked. And it had lingering smell, like locker room sweat and mold. She gagged but kept herself from vomiting for fear of re-tasting it. The bartender sat down. “In three days, you will feel compelled to vomit,” he explained. “Ideally, it would be best if you could vomit directly into water recovery system, but you could vomit into a sink or a toilet, and things will go where they need to go. Don’t vomit into a waste basket or the bed. You will likely have three episodes of being sick before completely purging the contents of your stomach.” “What did I drink?” Ten asked.
“Fertilized eggs,” the bartender said.
“What?!” ten asked, getting up.
“Sit,” the bartender said.
Ten sat. She wanted to run, but couldn’t.
“What have you done to me?” Ten asked. “Force command?”
“Nothing so crude,” the bartender said. “You made an agreement with us, on a subconscious level, to be a carrier.”
Two small insectoid creatures came over his back, down his shoulder and arm and came to the table. They were small enough to fit on his hand. They were black, with shades of browns and grey on the underside, but could suddenly change, and demonstrated by blending in with the table, and if she hadn’t been staring at them she might have lost sight of them. She was able to hold the almost imperceptible edges of them till they returned. On the back of their heads, she thought she saw human faces coming and going.
“The eggs and the larvae require a host, preferably human,” the bartender explained.
“They had a symbiotic relationship with a plant like species on their world of origin, but human colonist made the species extinct. Probably not on purpose. The Periplaneta adapted to the humans. Adapting is easy when you make as much offspring as they, but the thing is, humans are complicated. Most sentient beings are complicated. Call it the Force. Call it channeling. Or frequencies surfing. Periplaneta and humans together, they make a spooky connection with the unseen, the unconscious; the shadows of the lingering can communicate through them. Your thought-form friend, they can communicate with her. They can also communicate with a deeper you, a you that’s not you but it comprises you. We’re honoring your mission. We are helping you get on the station. We will help you survive. We will help you get out of the predicament you’re putting yourself in. But the cost is, you will become a bartender. If you survive, you will establish a nest, as I have, preferably on Darthomir, but you may do this anywhere.”
“And if I don’t want to?” Ten asked.
The two, hand-size, Periplaneta came to her, jumped onto her lap, crawled across thigh, then up her torso, each taking an arm, and crawled up to her shoulder.
“These two were drawn to you because of frequency,” the bartender explained. “They will grow. They will become irresistible over time. As they mature and become sexually orientated, they will chose a corresponding gender and mate. On doing so, the male will die. You and the remaining will establish the nest. You will both be matriarchs of the nest. You will no longer be host to larvae, but you will be responsible for bringing in new hosts.”
“I would never…”
“You will find your feelings on the matter will change over time,” the bartender said.
“Did you ever wonder how humans choose mates?” “No,” Ten said. “I am not interested in this stuff.”
The bartender nodded. “That, too, is a path. Interestingly, I find most bartenders share that. I, too, am asexual. Anyway, most humans think they have a choice in the matter. Most the time, the choice was made before they became consciously aware of the choice. There are patterns. Some pick partners that resemble the parent they had the most trouble with in order to resolve childhood conflict. If there was abuse, they tend to pick people to abuse them. It’s like magic. I can line everyone up in here, and ask a person to go down the line, and they always pick the abusers. Their radar is skewed. The nice ones, well, they’re boring. They don’t register. “It’s not a bad decision if they’re resolving childhood trauma,” Ten said. “It’s simply karma. Learning experiences help people grow.”
“There you go. I accept your perspective on the matter. In short, people make bad decisions in choosing partners. We turn up the music, dim the lights, and you have to rely on intuition. I know who people will go home with. You will discover you have this ability. You will know who will be good host, who will not be. And thus explains your relationships with us,” the bartender said. “The larvae in your stomach will hatch in a day or so. They will help you digest food; a byproduct of this help, a byproduct of their own waste, will be an increase in stamina and vigor. They poop out super vitamins. You’ll probably experiencing another growth spurt. You will become hyper feminine. Your ability to attend to the Force will be strengthen. Your aging will slow. Barring accidents, or murder, you will likely live five hundred years. You and your matriarch may have to relocate the nest over time, but given your strength in the Force, I suspect you will adopt the Periplaneta’s ability to camouflage faster than I did. You will get this ability, or curse, without trying. It just comes. People will see you, or they won’t. Of those who do see you, they will be inexplicably attracted to you, male and female; you call it karma. They will not be able to remember you when you leave their presence, but somehow, the moment you show up again, they know, and they will obey you. You will discover a knowingness about people, greater than your present sensitivity. You will know who to invite into the nest and who to send away. There will always be more offspring than there will be hosts. You and the matriarch will choose who matures and who gets eaten. The health of the nest will reflect the health of the overall community we serve. Think of it as a community service. We have a symbiotic relationship with this species. We do better together than apart. We make the shadow manifest.”
Ten wanted to see the creatures on her shoulder but when she looked, she saw nothing. When she focused on the bartender, she imagined she saw movement in her periphery. She shivered.
“We don’t need them to survive,” Ten said. “Humans…”
“That is human arrogance,” the bartender said. “Humans think that by being at the top of the food chains makes them superior to the rest of nature. We are enmeshed with nature. We can’t live without other. And this is the problem. Humans are not part of the food chain. They are so far above it that they are outside the system. That’s why where ever they go, they decimate worlds. They never try to enmesh with the systems, they dominate. Humans are the alien invaders. There is no check or balance in nature to curtail their growth. Until now. Nature has adapted to humans. This is our work. This is your work.” “I don’t want this,” Ten said.
“You wanted to be a Jedi, now you are. Jedi are the spiritual police force,” the bartender said. “So are the Periplaneta. Only, we don’t kill criminals. We rehabilitate them. We pacify them.”
“This is wrong,” Ten said.
“This is a done deal,” the bartender said. “You will find that you will not be able to speak about this, or about the creatures you possess.”
“I will tell my Master,” Ten said.
The bartender chuckled. “We would be impressed if you did. First, we know you are not on speaking terms with him. Yes, Kyoko is a bit of a flibbertigibbet. Could be her youth and not a personality trait. Second, we have a relationship with Waycaster. Even if he becomes aware of that which you carry, he will not intervene. He will see the deeper connection and the voluntary nature of the contract.”
“He could end the contract,” Ten said.
“With penalties. There is always a penalty for breaking faith,” the bartender said.
“This was not in good faith! This was underhanded…”
“You were not betrayed, Tenico. You sought a solution to a problem. You said you would do whatever it takes. This is the down payment,” the bartender said. “You have only begun to pay the price for this contract. We’re taking some risk with you. We don’t know that you will survive the week. If you do, well, you and I will be peers. Whichever of the two you carry that survives will be your life mate. You die, she dies. She dies, you die. That’s it.”
A lift door opened revealing Turry and a War droid. Turry stepped out of the lift first.
The droid followed, dragging a container. It was glossy white. It floated. It looked like a casket. While Turry made an attempt at pleasantries, the war droid instructed the caste to settle and open up.
“Well, this is it, little girl,” Turry said. “I have a buyer for you. I need you to strip and lay down in the carrier.”
Ten’s hand shook.
“If you want to use the bathroom first, you can,” Turry said.
“I don’t…”
“Sorry, girl, but you’re not backing out of this deal,” Turry said. “Now there are two ways this can go down. You can strip and get in the carrier on your own volition or I can stun you, strip you myself, and put you in the carrier. I could have Krafty do it, but he tends to bruise people.”
“I would not cause you injury, Tenico,” Krafty said.
“Well, I might. It’s been a while since I had to undress a girl,” Turry said. “That might be fun, actually. Come to think of it, it might look suspicious if there isn’t evidence of me having handled the product. Maybe I should give you a practice run so you can be prepared for what’s coming?”
Ten stood up. Her lightsaber was suddenly in her hand. Krafty was suddenly armed, weapons energized and humming.
“They built war droids with the speed and intelligence to deal specifically with Jedi,”
Turry said. “Are you a real Jedi or a pretend Jedi?”
There was a slight tremor in Ten’s hand. She was pretty sure she heard Kyoko say kill him and the bartender. It wasn’t Kyoko. It was one of her charges. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to focus. “Kill them all, and we will go an easier path towards the nest.” This was the charge on the right side. The charge on the left touched her ear. “These deaths will not help you.
You trusted the Force to help you this far. Go a little further.”
Turry stepped closer. “I am losing patience with you.” He held out his hand for the weapon.
“I want to take my lightsaber,” Ten said.
“Give it to me,” Turry said.
Ten surrendered the lightsaber. He drew her closer to the carrier, showed her how to open the secret compartment where he was to stow the lightsaber, and closed it. He then hit her square in the jaw with a fist and dropped her to the floor. When she came to, she was naked and in the carrier. She was attached to wireless leads that transmitted biometrics to a computer and monitor. She was also wearing a med restraint, and arm band with a variety of meds in it that could be pushed electronically directly into the vein, and he was about to activate it. He realized she was awake and smiled at her.
“I enjoyed my time with you,” Turry said.
In Ten’s ear she heard one say, ‘he’s lying don’t, let him bait you into anger;’ the other said ‘kill him now! We can escape together.’
“The next time I see you,” Ten said to Turry. “I will kill you.”
“Yeah, well, good luck with that,” Turry said.
He activated the med-dispenser and Ten was awash with vertigo. She felt as if she were floating on water, sinking. The surface of the world shimmered as she descended. She tried to breathe but couldn’t inhale because the pressure of the water surrounding her was too great to allow her rib cage to expand. Krafty apologized for the darkness to come, and then shut the lid. She tried to reach out with the Force to ‘see,’ but sleep took her. As she went, the voices in her ears grew prominent, even Kyoko’s voice was there, telling her to relax, and then, nothing.
♫♪►
Quillen presented himself to Hacshe. Hacshe put aside what he was doing gave his First Officer his complete attention. The item he put away was a curious thing, perhaps a Holocron box.
Quillen was young enough to be his grandson. He actually liked him. In fact, he had groomed him just for the position he held.
“My Lord,” Quillen said. Bowing with this address was recognition of their dual relationships.
“Good morning, son,” Hacshe said. “You’ve been quite busy planet side.” “I prefer working planet side,” Quillen said.
“Fair enough. I love Darthomir, too. Undeveloped, wild, which is likely why the Force is so strong here. Anyway, I made some schedule changes in Troop Deployment,” Hacshe said. “We’ll be starting a human only recruitment drive here on the planet, and adopting the Academy at the Three Sisters as our new training facility. I am anticipating a need. I will allow you to do that. The younger the recruits the better; the easier it is for them to adopt our paradigm. I would like to personally recruit and train a group. I will be doing the same.”
“Of course,” Quillen said. “I will establish the recruitment parameters.”
“I will be expecting a package,” Hacshe said. He handed him a disk. “Make sure these people are on duty when it arrives.”
Quillen agreed. He was thinking it through and then just decided to say it: “You haven’t ordered a package in a long time.”
“Counting, are you?” Hacshe asked.
“No, my Lord,” Quillen said. “I just thought…”
“I am too old to indulge? I assure you, son, whatever your libido was when you arrived at puberty will be that even when you’re 150 and in a nursing home. Pray for young, lovely, accommodating nurses. That which you were attracted to when you were young will still be what stirs your blood when you’re old. I can still be moved, and I have never lost my ability to perform.”
Quillen couldn’t hide his reaction. He was disgusted. “I was hoping for a reprieve from this persistent distraction of wanting. I could accomplish so much more if it weren’t for this curse of desire. That and sleep. Sleep and thoughts of sex are a serious waste of time.”
“But it has served you well,” Hacshe pointed out. “It gave you the drive to be financially successful. Truly, it’s the only reason to be successful. It provides more opportunities to indulge the drive. You should honor the drive. It is deeply connected to the Force and who we are. Women are attracted to men our stature. It’s just right. We would have gone extinct if they preferred our opposites.” “And yet, they complain when we are not attentive enough,” Quillen said.
“Oh, well you be more attentive. You can’t just get off and leave them hanging. You got to make sure they enjoyed being with you,” Hacshe said.
“You would know more of this than I,” Quillen acquiesced, hoping he wouldn’t drone on about his days of service the Emperor.
“I have always encouraged your indulgence. Your temperament would improve if you just gave in,” Hacshe said.
“I already give in too much,” Quillen said.
Hacshe chuckled. “Insufficient to realize it is the Force that is influencing you. Only when you stop resisting will you transcend and touch what I have touched. Only then can I take you to the next level of training.”
“Your dabbling in mysticism has served you, but I doubt it will take me as far as it has you,” Quillen said. “It baffles me the others tolerate your interests. Perhaps you are given a pass because of your age, your longevity with the Order. My peer group frowns on this kind of thinking. It was this spiritualistic thinking that resulted in the decline of the empire. It’s not sustainable because it doesn’t fit the materialistic paradigm. People care about results, not anecdotes.”
“Even the materialists don’t argue that anomalous studies reveal consciousness can influence matter beyond statistical chance,” Hacshe pointed out.
“Not consistently verifiable…”
“If your conscious influences it and you’re expecting null results, you will get what you anticipate,” Hacshe said.
“Convenient confabulation,” Quillen said. “Border line solipsism.”
“How do you think your mind moves your body? How do you explain placebos?” “Bio-mechanisms, not magic…”
“I agree, not magic. The Force isn’t magic, it is pure consciousness.”
“We could spend all day arguing this. Do you wish to keep me from my duties?” Quillen asked. “Are you asking for an out?” Hacshe asked. “I will defer to your wants,” Quillen said.
“Always the safe way out. Have a nice day, son,” Hacshe said.