Desperate Measures/Part 8

Narasi followed her ears to a circular room of durasteel and ferrocrete, ten levels tall, each level wider in diameter than the one below, so that a being standing at the railing of the top level could see every floor. She and Aldayr had emerged onto the fourth level from the top; they dropped into crouches in unison when they heard the jabbering Narasi had come to associate with the little porcine aliens who served as Kai Latra's foot soldiers. She crawled forward on hands and knees, reaching out with her danger sense until the overwhelming feedback made her dizzy; Aldayr waddled awkwardly after her in a crouch, mechanical arm in hand rather than dragging it along the ground.

She had just gotten to the railing and caught a glimpse of the little workers on a podium in the center of the room, three levels down, when someone behind her hissed and she caught a wave of alarm. Turning, she saw a bearded skeleton of a man in a cell beside the passage through which she and Aldayr had come. Now that she looked, they were all cells—every free wall space of every level she could see, like an upside-down beehive of a prison—though not all cells were occupied, and not all the beings in the occupied cells felt alive. Ferrocrete walls separated the cells, but each only had bars to keep its occupants inside. The bearded man moaned at Narasi and shuffled back as fast as his gaunt legs would permit.

"Shh!" she whispered. She crawled over to the cell, but he pressed himself against the back wall. Narasi tried not to grimace at the foul odor coming from the cell and frighten him further.

"Go away," the old man moaned. "What more can you do to me?!"

"It's okay—" Narasi started. She extended a hand, but he squealed and covered his face.

"Narasi," Aldayr breathed in her ear, "you're a Zygerrian."

"What? I know I'm—oh." She sighed, trying not to take offense; it had doubtless been Zygerrians who brought this man here to face whatever horrors Kai Latra had inflicted upon him, and if that was her only experience with Zygerrians, Narasi would probably be wary too. "It's okay, I'm a Jedi. We're both Jedi."

The old man stared. "Jedi?" He pronounced the word as if it was from a foreign language he had once studied but could no longer quite recall. "You…are Jedi?"

Narasi nodded, and Aldayr said, "Yes."

"Jedi…Knights?"

"Well…" Narasi hedged. "We're actually Pada—"

"We're both Jedi," Aldayr said firmly. "From the Jedi Order. The Republic."

The rheumy eyes stared out of that skull of a face, suspicious and desperate at once. Narasi looked around to ensure they hadn't been spotted, then said, "We can help you, but we need clothes, equipment, weapons."

"I need to get this restraining bolt off my arm," Aldayr added, showing him.

The old man stared in silence for so long that Narasi looked around at other cells, wondering if a younger prisoner, newer to the dungeon, might have more fight left in him. Eventually, though, the old man croaked, "The Ugnaughts."

"What?" Aldayr asked.

"The Ugnaughts!" the old man groaned, shuffling toward them timidly. "They have the tools, the keys!"

Aldayr looked at Narasi and jerked his head toward the railing. "Think we can take them?"

"It's a long jump down, and we'd have to take them all before they hit an alarm—assuming there aren't any more." Narasi looked back at the old man. "What about blasters?"

"No, no, no!" the old man whimpered.

"There are no blasters here." Narasi and Aldayr jumped; the voice had come from the next cell over. She saw a tall, thin alien with a snout as long as Narasi's arm leaning against the bars and eyeing them speculatively; she recognized it as a Glymphid, although only because one of her Bergruutfa Clan mates had been a Glymphid also. "The master of the castle allows no blasters here. I think he, ah, rather fears what might happen if we got hold of them."

"The master of the castle?" Narasi asked. "Kai Latra?"

At this the old man cried and covered his head, and the Glymphid winced. "Do not speak his name—not here, not in this place. The very walls are his ears."

Narasi wanted to reassure him, but found her voice dying out before she could form the words. Since she and Aldayr had first executed their escape, she had found the Force sluggish; it obeyed her commands only reluctantly, it seemed, and it did no more than nudge her rather than offering the guidance she needed. She and Aldayr were barely keeping their heads above water in the morass of the dark side that was Kai Latra's castle. She remembered the haunting song, the way it had bewitched her mind and wrapped hopelessness around her throat like a noose; if he could weave sound itself into a weapon, who knew but that speaking his name really might call down some other power upon them?

She shook her head, trying to find clarity in the light. The dark side was already too powerful here, she couldn't afford to feed it with superstition. "Okay, no blasters. Anything?"

"I've seen only stun weapons, and the shock whips your people carry, Jedi. And of course the lightsabers of his Acolytes."

Narasi couldn't even be offended by the your people; she was too focused on his Acolytes. "Are there any other Sith Lords beside Ka—besides the master of the castle?"

"No," a reptilian voice drifted down from the next level up. Narasi wasn't sure whether she had gotten louder, or if some prisoner just had even better hearing than she did. "He alone isss lord here; he will brook no equal."

She looked at Aldayr and said hopefully, "Only Acolytes."

"We might stand a fighting chance," he agreed, then added dryly, "once we have clothes, and equipment, and our lightsabers…"

"We have to get moving," she agreed, then looked at the prisoners. "If it could be done, where?"

The Glymphid raised his snout toward the ceiling. "New slaves and prisoners are brought in from above."

"Not there!" the old man groaned. "Not back to that place!"

Narasi ignored him, looking around the circular level. Seeing no lifts, she shrugged and turned her eyes to the railing above. "We'll have to jump it."

"The sssentral platform," came the voice from above. "They will sssee you."

"On it," Aldayr said, duck-walking to the railing and peering down. Wearing a look of intense concentration, he flicked the fingers of his real hand downward. There was a bang, followed by jabbering cries of dismay. Aldayr looked pleased with himself. "Let's go."

"Everyone goes, sooner or later," the old man sighed.

The Glymphid whispered, "May the Force be with you, Jedi."

Narasi focused on the next level and leapt, the Force carrying her to the railing; the dark side tried to drag her down, but she caught the bar and hauled herself up. Turning to help Aldayr over it, she saw the Ugnaughts on the control podium—now four levels down—all looking over its edge, frantically pointing and jabbering at something going on at the lowest level, which glowed orange and sparked like a blast furnace. In the cell nearest was the largest snake she had ever seen, but it regarded her with sentient eyes and nodded in encouragement. She and Aldayr took the next level in unison, but Narasi mounted the rail first and helped to haul Aldayr's dead right arm over so it didn't clang on the metal.

One last jump and there they were looking down on the depths of Kai Latra's prison pit. Was this where he kept his enemies, Narasi wondered, or simply the holding tank for those he had not yet seen fit to experiment on like the people they had seen in the cages, like poor Olik Gryfe? Or was it both? Did the prisoners know what was coming to those who were taken away? And if they did, who felt worse for whom?

Aldayr moved, wrenching Narasi away from her macabre contemplations. A tunnel led from the top floor of the prison pit to an enormous room beyond; Narasi could hear sobs sprinkled among shouted orders. Wind tickled her bare skin and made her shiver; was there, finally, a path to the outside beyond? She saw movement and dropped to her hands and knees; Aldayr copied her, throwing his cybernetic arm over his back and crawling awkwardly with one hand.

A handful of Ugnaughts were clustered at the far end of the tunnel, but they were all looking the other way. Aldayr rocked onto his heels, making a fist and a questioning expression. Narasi considered it, but shook her head. Instead, she waved a hand, trying to make them more complacent. Aldayr got silently to his feet and supplemented her efforts, and they crept behind the Ugnaughts unseen.

Sliding behind the bars of an enormous, empty cage that Narasi was sure served as a sentient pen, she took stock of the room. They stood on one of the few raised areas; most of the room was sunken a story down. It had returned to Kai Latra's eclectic design style, stone and durasteel and even what looked like clay bricks set in a patch of floor. Sentient beings of various species were clustered in groups of a dozen or so, Ugnaughts prowling among them with livestock prods and stun batons; Zygerrians marched more slaves in, cracking shock whips at stragglers. Mutated, four-legged beasts with snarling mouths and long claws stood sentry, chained around their necks and barking at nearby slaves, who cowered away. Groups were being taken one at a time to be stripped and examined by more Ugnaughts, who poked, prodded, and probed the slaves callously, shocking anyone who resisted. There were a dozen pens like the one shielding Narasi and Aldayr scattered throughout the room, some empty and others occupied. In whole, it looked like a stockyard in miniature, and Narasi gritted her teeth when she realized that was probably exactly what the Sith considered it.

In the center of the room, Narasi saw the hulking Sith Acolyte who had taken her and Aldayr from their cell arguing with an even taller Hiitian.

"The creature has failed," the brute snarled. "I'm going after them."

"The master ordered you here, Xargo," the Hiitian warned.

"Maalt gave that command, and I do not answer to him," Xargo replied. "Besides, Maalt trusted their capture to a failed Jedi—perhaps he wanted to fail. I don't.  My quarry sense…"

He trailed off, his widespread, squinty eyes narrowing. Reaching over his shoulder, he unslung a recurve bow off his back, drew an arrow from a belt quiver hanging beside his lightsaber, and nocked it. To Narasi's horror, those predator's eyes turned in her direction. She lurched back behind the bars of the pen.

"They're nearby—I can feel them!"

Through a gap in the latticework iron of the pen, Narasi watched the Hiitian glance around and snap his beak. "Well, do what you wish, but don't expect me to answer to the master for you if he expects you back here."

"We need to move," Aldayr said.

"We have to help them, too," Narasi insisted.

"No clothes, no equipment—"

"—no weapons, yeah, I got it, Aldayr," Narasi snapped. Without thinking, she gestured to her naked body. "Kinda hard to forget."

His eyes followed her gesture, and Narasi flushed; when he looked back up, Aldayr blushed too. Narasi was astonished how little she had thought of it during their flight; naked was just a fact of their impromptu escape. Aldayr hadn't made her uncomfortable, and she refused to make things awkward now. "Anyway," she said, cheeks still hot. "We're Jedi, we'll just have to improvise."

Aldayr had recovered his cool. "We can't use the Force, they'll sense it."

"We'll have to really improvise."

"Leave him alone, I said!" a voice barked.

Narasi became aware of an argument amidst the mass of slaves; the Ugnaughts were jabbering at a pair of Anx, who were standing in front of their youngling. The Ugnaughts grabbed the little boy, but the male Anx tapped them, and they fell, twitching. A Zygerrian raced up, uncoiling his shock whip, but the Anx slapped him on the side of the neck and he went down too.

Narasi felt the slaves' collective indrawn breath, but before the situation could get out of control, the Hiitian Acolyte descended into the fray. He closed with the Anx, blocked the gigantic being's attack, and struck him hard enough that the Anx doubled over. Drawing his lightsaber, he gave the Anx a slash across his crested head for good measure. The Anx kept his feet, though he was trembling and his wife supported him. Their youngling cowered in their shadow.

"Enough!" the Hiitian snapped. "Get in line and do as you're told or we'll find a way to do without you. Process them!"

He disengaged his blade and returned to his supervising platform. Aldayr tapped Narasi on the shoulder and nodded with his chin; the conflict resolved, Xargo was walking slowly across the holding area, kicking slaves out of his way, taking deep breaths through the nostrils in the center of his forehead. Aldayr said, "Let's move."

They crept around the perimeter of the room opposite Xargo. On the far side of the room Narasi could see a hangar bay from which the slaves had been offloaded. If they could just take down the guards, they could flee Kai Latra's fortress and…and…

Narasi froze and Aldayr walked right into her. Realization had hit her like a blow in her gut, driving all the air out of her. Her mind had almost gotten there facing Olik, but then mortal peril had diverted her. Now, though, even with danger all around, it had finally dawned on her what she had been missing.

"What?" Aldayr whispered.

"Kai Latra."

"Where?!" Aldayr asked, startled and looking around.

"No, Aldayr, Kai Latra! He's a Sith Lord.  He's the point!"

"The point of what?"

"The poison! At Anaxes!" When Aldayr stared, Narasi growled in frustration. "Tirien! He can fix Tirien!"

Aldayr continued to stare until he got it, too. "Narasi, we're in no position—"

"This was the whole reason for all of this in the first place, Aldayr. We don't even need Alecto if we have Kai Latra!"

"Narasi, think! We can't take down a Sith Lord alone, not with all his people and his monsters here.  We'll never get within a hundred meters of him."

He checked Xargo's position, but Narasi waved a hand. "We've come this far, suffered all this, and he's right here."

"And all these slaves?" Aldayr demanded. "You wanted to rescue them, right? How're we going to take down Kai Latra with hundreds of slaves in tow?  We haven't even gotten us out yet.  Even if, by some miracle, we managed to get a cure for Tirien from Kai Latra, we'd have to execute him, and then we'll have to run.  And leave all these people here."

In her mind's eye Narasi saw Tirien's face when he had realized what happened to him, and the memory was harrowing, but her physical eyes looked out at the cringing groups of beings, cowering under the lash. She sought guidance in the Force and felt again the anguish she had been keeping at bay, the suffering amplified by proximity. Perhaps, if they got their clothes and weapons back, and caught him completely by surprise, she and Aldayr could take down Kai Latra, but surely his Acolytes would sense what was going on. Would she flee with a cure for Tirien and leave all these people to suffer whatever punishment the Acolytes inflicted?

She thought of Tirien's face if she did, and shivered with shame at the judgment in those cold yellow eyes.

''Save him. Be brave. Be a Jedi.'' Tirien had said those words to her on Anaxes, dying of poison and willingly sending what they had both thought, then, was the cure out of his reach to save someone else. Tirien chose his words with great care, and for all he knew, they might have been the last words he ever said to his Padawan in this life—words he would have expected her to remember.

Be a Jedi.

Narasi brushed her eyes and took a deep breath. The Tirien in her head gave her a rare, small smile. "We have to save the slaves."

"Right then. How?"

They ran to cover behind another pen, this one occupied. The slaves all started, but Aldayr quieted them with whispered reassurances. He didn't see Narasi climbing up onto the roof of the pen until her feet were disappearing over the bars; his harsh whisper was too late. It occurred to some back portion of Narasi's mind that everyone in the cell was staring at her as she lay prone above them, but she was far less concerned with modesty than strategy.

A Zygerrian slaver was approaching.

"Act casual!" she whispered in Basic, then again in Huttese.

She saw some fighting spirit left in the eyes of a few of them, and those few engaged their more placid fellows in conversation. A few mothers and fathers whispered to their children to distract them from the Zygerrian girl above them. Narasi looked once for Xargo; he was standing at the tunnel leading back to the prison pit, undecided.

Narasi sensed the slaver's annoyance. "Quiet in there, if you know what's good for you. Your new owner's always looking for mouthy types to 'volunteer' for his experiments.  You know what's good for you, you'll keep—"

Narasi jumped on him, wrapping him in a sleeper hold as her weight bore him to the floor on top of her. He reacted quickly, clawing at her face, but Aldayr rolled his eyes and pitched into the fight, kicking the slaver in the groin and then holding his cybernetic arm with his good hand and swinging it like a club to bludgeon the man. The fight was violent, quiet, and over in five seconds.

They stripped him to his underwear, and Narasi took the shock whip off his belt. At her insistence, Aldayr took the slaver's clothes, which were too big for her, but she kept the whip. Aldayr looked relaxed to finally be dressed again, but his right arm still slumped unnaturally at his side. Wearing the slaver's helmet, he could pass for a Zygerrian at a distance.

"Okay," Narasi whispered. There was some commotion among the slaves in the processing area, and Narasi seized the moment to plan. "Clothes and a weapon. Next?"

"Get us out!" a Roonian in the cage suggested.

"We will, I swear," Narasi vowed.

"I could go back to the prison," Aldayr volunteered. The commotion was growing louder, people yelling, and several slaves in the pen turned to look. Aldayr raised his voice to conversational level to be heard. "The old man said the Ugnaughts have tools; maybe I can get this damn bolt off. If we split up, we might confuse Xargo."

"Or get caught alone and picked off," Narasi countered.

"Hey, Jedi—" a Human said urgently.

Narasi followed his pointed finger toward the commotion. There was a pen in between, but even as she crept forward she heard a piteous scream.