The Fog of War/Part 13

They all watched in silence as Darth Vaszas hefted the Milagroan prime minister by the throat, dangling him over the balcony of the government center. The Human kicked his legs uselessly in the air and slapped at Vaszas's hand, though Aldayr wasn't sure what that would accomplish; it was a twenty-meter drop. In the end the Falleen Sith tightened his grip, digging his fingers into the premier's neck until they parted flesh and muscle and encircled cartilage; the premier fell so fast that blood geysered upward from the wound in his neck, and Vaszas held the laryngeal prominence out in his bloodstained hand and raised his lightsaber in the other.

As Tirien quietly narrated what had happened to Slejux, Mali stepped forward and turned the holoprojector off. Narasi's looked both sickened and outraged; Aldayr wasn't sure whether her jaw was clamped tight so she wouldn't yell at the holo or so she wouldn't vomit.

Master Kadych looked pensive, but then collected himself nodded. "About time we caught a lucky break."

Though they were alone, all five Jedi turned to stare at him. Narasi's lip peeled back from her fangs. "How is that lucky? He died!"

The Umbaran looked at Mali. "Darakhan?"

Aldayr looked at his master, trying to fight down the annoyance and betrayal that tormented him every time he did. Mali crossed his arms. "I don't get it either. We should've stopped this."

Master Kadych raised a hand to still whatever Tirien was going to say, then replied, "You're given a fleet and a ground complement to take a planet. Your forces make landing in half a dozen spots.  Where do you go?"

"Where the fighting is most intense," Mali answered.

Master Kadych rolled his eyes. "Of course. Let us pretend you were more interested in resolving the battle than building your heroic legend.  What is the tactical approach?"

Mali gritted his teeth, but he stopped to think about it. "Take the capital," he reasoned slowly. "Vaszas wasn't wrong."

"Ah, but the capital is only a city," Master Kadych chided. "Bigger, sometimes, but size doesn't matter. What would you do with this capital you're invading?"

"Seize the government offices and leaders, and—" He stopped abruptly, and Master Kadych smiled his cold smile. Closing his eyes, Mali nodded in comprehension. "And make them surrender."

"Exactly," Master Kadych said, satisfied. "Alive, the premier could have ordered all of Milagro's forces to stand down. Oh, some would have disobeyed, but most wouldn't.  Dead—and most of the high government officers dead with him—he's a martyr and no central authority controls what's left of Milagro's army.  Instead of a quasi-united military, Gasald now has a thousand splintered resistance factions and insurgent cells to fight.  A single death can end a war, but the wrong death can extend it by months, even years.  With one premature murder Vaszas has bogged Gasald down here indefinitely."

Put that way, Aldayr saw the logic, though he privately felt the distaste Narasi was still wearing on her face. Tirien touched her elbow, just a faint tap as he passed her stepping forward, but Narasi smoothed her expression with obvious effort. Tirien said, "It was a tactical blunder, Master, but he was still a decent man who died a horrible death."

Kadych turned his cold, pale eyes to the Pantoran Knight. "Prime Minister Sholbo was dead the moment Vaszas captured him. Whether by Vaszas's hand, or something more theatrical from Karzded, or whatever hideous obscenity Vedya Gasald could invent, there was no escaping that fate.  Or preventing it," he added to Mali. "Of course his murder is an evil, but even the dark side can be turned to the advantage of the light if you're clever enough. Don't let your emotional reaction cloud your ability to see this objectively."

Both Tirien and Narasi looked a little stunned, but Mali said, "We need to spread our contact net further. If there really are about to be a thousand new resistance factions, they should work together even if we decentralize control."

"If we decentralize control?" Tirien asked. "Since when did we assume command of the Milagro Resistance? Mali, we can't stay here indefinitely.  I thought Gasald was the target?  Or was it Vandak?"

"These people need our help, Tirien," Mali answered. "How many more Prime Minister Sholbos are you willing to tolerate?"

"They're going to need a lot more help the second Gasald realizes we're here," Tirien argued. "The Republic isn't coming to bail us out. The Anzat Count is up to eight today already; how high do you think it'll go when they know the resistors are harboring Jedi?"

The Milagroans had given the toll of grisly murders that nickname, but it had spread among the Jedi too. Mali crossed his arms. "Then we take the fight to the Anzati and put an end to this."

"But—"

"Oh, let's see if I can do both sides," Master Kadych interrupted. "'But Mali, a lightsaber leaves such distinctive wounds, Gasald will know we're here!' 'But Tirien, you wanted a plan.  This is a plan that keeps people safe.'  'But Mali, it's a plan that puts a bandage on a blaster hole.  We can't free Milagro with dead Anzati alone.'  'But Tirien, if we continue doing nothing we're no Jedi at all.  War demands risks.'  'But Mali', 'But Tirien'…"

He gave them a look of loathing. "Two weeks of this endless nonsense I've endured now. Make it three and I'm going to command you to fight to the death, and we'll follow the survivor's plan."

They were still staring when the door opened and Jossi Feld stuck his head in. His face was twisted with grief, and he said, "Nine."

The Jedi filed out after him one-by-one, a kaleidoscope of emotions in the Force. Aldayr could sense his master's annoyance, and Tirien's; Narasi seemed defensive, probably on her master's side. Though Aldayr longed to be doing something, he found himself a bit less instinctively supportive of Mali. Even Master Kadych's frustration leaked into the Force. Only Slejux was unreadable, though Aldayr sensed him deep in thought.

In the next room Milagroans lined the wall of what had once been an office while two resistance fighters in mismatched pieces of armor laid a body on a table. Aldayr recognized Dorni Kossaboyt, the policeman who had been with Tirien, Narasi, and Master Kadych when Mali, Slejux, and Aldayr had brought their resistance members to the stadium the day they arrived. A look of horror was frozen on his features, though the fighters had closed his eyes, and there was a mix of mucus and blood smeared over his upper lip.

"If you're going to protect us," Jossi said through gritted teeth, "feel free to start any time now."

Aldayr sensed a mix of grief, guilt, and anger; Jossi had seen most of his department whittled down, and there were few left now. The other Milagroans were no more supportive; they were looking at all the Jedi the way they'd looked at Narasi the first day. Tirien closed his eyes and Mali gritted his teeth. Master Kadych stepped forward, brushing at the smear with his index finger. When he rubbed it with his thumb, his eyes narrowed. "Still damp. This was recent."

"He was escorting one of the cells," Jossi supplied. The civilians had been broken up into smaller units for ease of movement and to avoid being noticed en masse. Though the Jedi had succeeded in smuggling hundreds around the city and across the countryside, there were more units than there were Jedi. None of them knew if the Anzati sensed their presence or could just instinctively feel out the easier prey, but more than one convoy without a Jedi had met a hideous end.

"And the rest of the cell?" Tirien asked quietly.

"They weren't with him," said one of the resistance fighters.

"Probably herded off into containment," Jossi speculated.

Mali had crossed his arms, and he shook his head slowly. "Enough. Enough of this.  I didn't become a Jedi Knight to watch good people die from the sidelines.  At least one Anzat is still nearby, and who knows where all those civilians are.  If we find one we might find both, and even if we don't, we take one of these murderers out of the equation.  That's good enough for me.  Jossi, are there other groups moving?"

"A couple," the old Human answered. He activated his imagecaster and produced a holo of the suburb they were occupying today. "One was heading to this safehouse. Another was trying to reach the river."

Mali took the lightsaber hilt from his belt. "I'm going. And if the rest of you—"

"I agree," Tirien interrupted.

Mali seemed briefly surprised, and Tirien stepped forward to lay a blue hand on Dorni's brow. "Enough of this," he echoed. "Narasi, with me."

"We'll cover more ground if we all spread out," Mali said.

Narasi nodded, but Tirien narrowed his eyes. "If they're here with Vandak they're all hardened killers; probably the best he has. Narasi's only fifteen, Mali."

Most eyes were on Tirien and Mali, but Aldayr saw Narasi's look of frustration. She met his eyes, but before he could look away, her expression morphed to thoughtfulness, then cascaded into abrupt decision. "Five is better than four," she blurted out. "Aldayr and I can go."

No one was more surprised than Aldayr, although both Tirien and Mali gave him a run for his credits.

"Five is better than four," Master Kadych agreed. "Two Padawans should be enough for one of Vandak's pets."

"Aldayr?" Mali asked unsurely.

Aldayr met his master's gaze, and his stomach tightened automatically. What was the question? ''Can you handle an Anzat? Can you play nice with Narasi? Should I start trusting you some day, or am I better off keeping you in the dark?''

Aldayr's face hardened. "We'll get it done, Master."

Tirien frowned, but looked around the circle of Jedi and Milagroans for a moment before sighing. "Be careful. Do what needs to be done, but if you come across Vandak himself, do not engage him."

"He's right," Slejux said, laying a hand on Narasi's shoulder. "You must think of the proper dignity owed a Jedi Knight, Narasi; if you defeated Vandak, your master's fame would never approach yours."

Several of the Milagroans stared and Tirien clenched his jaw, but Narasi laughed. "I'll just have to get famous some other way, Slejux."

A smirk flitted across Master Kadych's lips before he said, "Settled, then. Now we hunt."

They went out into the muggy night; mist had rolled off the river and into the warehouse district where the Jedi and resistance leaders were lying low. Master Kadych vanished into the fog without a word; Slejux patted Narasi's shoulder again and nodded to Tirien before heading out as well. Tirien pulled Narasi aside for a quiet word, and Aldayr was alone with his master.

"Tirien's right," Mali said; the admission seemed to pain him. "Don't try to take Vandak alone."

"No, Master," Aldayr answered.

"But you can handle the Anzati," he went on. "Keep Narasi safe; don't let her take stupid risks."

"No, Master."

"But don't try to handle it alone, either. Work as a team."

"Yes, Master."

Mali squeezed his real arm at the bicep. "You're ready. I have faith in you."

"Do you?"

The words just fell out of his mouth, hard and angry. Mali recoiled in surprise, and a most uncharacteristic hesitant look overtook his face. "Aldayr…"

Narasi stepped up, but when she read the tension between them she paused. "Uh…do you need a minute?"

"No, it's fine, we're done," Aldayr said, shrugging out of Mali's grip and turning to face her; he saw Tirien watching them from an alleyway. "Let's go."

"May the Force be with you, Master Darakhan," Narasi tossed over her shoulder. Mali was still too stunned to reply.

Aldayr and Narasi jogged off away from the abandoned mill where the resistance had taken refuge that night. His earlier curiosity eventually dominated his lingering resentment of Mali, but he wasn't sure how to broach the topic with Narasi; he was never quite sure what would set her off. Though he would have loved to bring down one of the Anzati, he suspected he might have overpromised his master when it came to teamwork.

Narasi felt the weight of his gaze, but they were a kilometer away before she finally spoke. "'Emotional reaction'," she said, clearly annoyed. "There's two words I never thought I'd hear applied to Tirien."

"Maybe they're both different types of 'there is no emotion'," Aldayr offered.

"My master can be in a place where there's no emotion," Narasi said loyally. "He's not going to let what's going on control him, but he still cares. Master Kadych just has no soul."

"No personality, no soul…" Aldayr gave her a pointed look. "Something Slejux is missing? No, you like him.  What about Mali?"

Narasi bristled, but then her big blue eyes narrowed. "Trust?"

The single word pierced him through. Aldayr flinched, then picked up his pace, charging so fast Narasi had to sprint to keep up. She had to pour the Force into her speed to finally catch hold of his sleeve; she dug her heels in to stop them both. "Hey—"

He wrenched himself free, but she had grabbed his mechanical arm, and he put more power into it than it needed; Narasi pitched forward and almost fell. Aldayr caught her reflexively with his real arm and steadied her, but she lurched away from his touch. They both glowered at one another in the hazy light of a fog-shrouded streetlamp; the civilians had fled the district before Gasald's onslaught, and the night was still and quiet.

Narasi glared a moment more, her fangs gleaming, then exhaled sharply through her nose and crossed her arms. "Sorry."

"Yeah." They stood awkwardly while Aldayr stewed on her words yet again. He knew Narasi disliked him, and he couldn't pretend to be overly enthusiastic about their partnership either, but eventually he found himself asking, "Tirien told you about the Corellians? Master Dumiel and that whole thing?"

"Yeah, he did." She cocked her head. "Master Darakhan really didn't tell you?"

"No." His anger was getting the better of him, but she had asked… "You want 'personality'?  Fine, here's a bit of personality: I'm mad as hell.  Five years I've been Mali's Padawan, and Tirien trusts you more in a year and a half than Mali trusts me."

"That's why I thought you'd be up for working together too," Narasi nodded. When Aldayr gave her a blank look, she grimaced. "Tirien tells me stuff, but he just doesn't have any faith in me."

The word made Aldayr twitch. "What do you mean? Didn't he have you fly the ship?"

"Yeah, but…well, like tonight, with the Anzati." She looked around them anxiously, as if remembering why they were there, but then continued, "And before, when we were talking about fighting Sith. I get it, I screwed up on Gizer with Alecto, but it was a year and a half ago!  The Anzati and the Sith Acolytes are more dangerous than the frontline grunts, but that doesn't mean every one of them is Darth Alecto!"

Aldayr frowned. The resolute gleam in her eye and the desire to take on the bad guys struck a nauseatingly familiar chord with him. "Two years ago I was fifteen, and Lord Vargh wasn't Darth Alecto either."

He raised his mechanical hand and squeezed his durasteel fingers into a fist. Narasi glanced at it, then gave him a look and started walking again. "And you're sooo wise now that you're seventeen?"

Aldayr rolled his eyes as he kept pace with her. "I'm just saying, maybe he wants you to pace yourself, not…" He sighed, but he had learned the cost of pridefulness on Taanab. "Not make my mistake. I thought we could take on Lord Vargh and whatever-his-name-was alone, and I lost an arm for that.  We both almost died."

Narasi looked around them as they made their way through a deserted neighborhood; the humidity had left a faint sheen of sweat glistening on her buzzed widow's peak. "So if Tirien is holding me back for a good reason, why can't Master Darakhan have had a good reason not to tell you about the Corellians?"

"That's different," Aldayr insisted. "I'm Corellian. He's always talking about how it's this great thing to be Corellian, how proud I should be.  What, did he think I was going to tell the High Council?"

"Would you?" Narasi asked interestedly.

Aldayr paused, unsure of the right answer. If Master Dumiel was leading Jedi away from the Council, then Aldayr owed his loyalty to the Republic. Or did he? Protecting Corellia was important too, and although he still hadn't gotten the whole story from anyone, it certainly didn't sound like Master Dumiel was turning to the dark side, or wandering off who-knew-where like Master Z'dar.

"I…" Aldayr started, but he paused when Narasi abruptly turned away.

"What was that?!" she hissed.

Aldayr stretched out with the Force, opening his mouth slightly to help his hearing and sensing for danger. "What?"

"I…it sounds like somebody crying…"

Her large ears stuck well out from her shaggy hair, and Aldayr offered, "You've probably got better hearing than me."

The moment the words were out he sighed internally and braced himself for yet another snippy defense, but for once she didn't seem to take offense at her Zygerrianness being pointed out. Instead she swallowed, firmed her face, and took her lightsaber hilt from her belt. "This way."

They ran down a deserted street, overleaping repulsor potholes the city public department had left unmended and craters Lady Gasald's fleet had added. As they hurdled a fence within a second of each other Aldayr accelerated to Narasi's side, because he could sense it now too—panic and the cold cruelty of the dark side.

They came to a building of little apartments, all curved edges and two-being balconies. Aldayr's eyes zeroed in on a second-floor room; no light shone from within, but the Force painted a hazy picture of beings struggling inside. "We should call."

If Narasi felt the irony of reversing their roles on Taanab, she didn't spare a word for it. "It's not Vandak and there's no time."

She hit the yard at a run, clipped her lightsaber to her belt, and leapt. Aldayr sprinted for the main door as Narasi hauled herself over the railing; he heard the snap-hiss of her lightsaber and a crash of transparisteel as she slashed the door. Sensing a mix of fear and confusion, Aldayr threw himself into the door, but it only groaned. Taking a pace back, he waved his hand, but the mechanism was jammed, and the Force only made the metal squeal. Somewhere above a woman screamed.

Gritting his teeth, Aldayr punched the door with his mechanical hand, and the plasteel cracked. It splintered along its frame on the second blow, and when Aldayr channeled the Force into his third strike, half the door came off and fell into the hall beyond. Slipping through sideways, he danced over the detritus left by fleeing civilians and made for the stairs, racing toward the sound of dopplering slashes and hissing metal.

The apartment door was open, and he came into the living room in time to see Narasi backing away, pushing back a terrified Milagroan woman while dueling with her free hand. A child was cringing behind Narasi, and she almost stumbled. Darting forward, Aldayr caught the boy with his real hand and lifted him into his mother's arms. "Out. Now!"

Narasi spun awkwardly into a downward parry, her feet almost touching, checking her blade for fear of maiming someone else. A kick caught her in the hip, and she went rolling across the floor with a cry of pain. Aldayr snatched the lightsaber from his belt and activated both blades, and the blue light shadowed every crevice and corner of the Anzat's face. He had a sword in his hands and a cruel smile on his lips; the tips of his brain-eating proboscises peeked out hungrily from the pouches of skin beside his wide nose.

"Jedi," he exulted, his accent turning the word into Zhedi. "A meal after weeks of snacks."

Aldayr brought one blade in hard, swinging to cut the Anzat's sword in half and remove his head in a single blow. The Anzat met the cut, and though sparks flew where the energy beam met the metal, he stopped Aldayr's blade cold. Eyes wide, Aldayr barely had time to whirl into a parry with his other blade as the Anzat lunged for his face. He hopped back halfway across the room, whirling his blades to deter pursuit.

The Anzat laughed. "I am of the Shagzbad Nkalyon, little boy, we who hang the lightsabers of unworthy Jedi above our fire. Do you think Lord Vandak would send us forth unable to match your weapons?"

Aldayr did not respond, settling into Jedi focus. Across the room Narasi rolled to her feet and reactivated her lightsaber. The Anzat did not seem wary of their numbers; if anything, he seemed to relish the challenge. He flew at Narasi in a whirl of steel, and she fell back on a tight defense. The kick had given her a limp, and Aldayr saw her fangs as she gritted her teeth.

He came on the Anzat from the other side, slashing at the assassin's unprotected back, but the Anzat sensed the attack and sprang nimbly aside, putting Aldayr and Narasi in each other's paths; he swung at head level, and would have taken off both their heads one after the other had Aldayr not caught the blow on his off blade. Narasi jabbed for his stomach; the Anzat sidestepped and backhanded her ferociously, and she went sprawling across the floor.

The Anzat slashed at Aldayr, and he abandoned his own assault to block. The blade came down on Aldayr's long-handled lightsaber hilt; the durasteel held up against the sword, but Aldayr almost lost his index finger, and he threw himself back, almost falling onto a sofa as the Anzat laughed.

"I like a bloody nose," he commented, grinning at Narasi; his proboscises fluttered around his own nose. "Lubricant makes everything easier."

She planted her hands on the floor and struggled to rise, but her elbows trembled and blood leaked down her face and over her chin. Aldayr went on the attack to distract the Anzat, alternating blades as fast as he dared, cutting at sides, knees, and neck. The assassin was fast, though, and he met each of Aldayr's blows, retaliating with stabs that checked Aldayr's onslaught and forced him onto the defense.

From the floor, Narasi threw a Force push their way; she was too stunned to channel it properly, and they both staggered for balance, but Aldayr swiped with one blade and managed to nick the Anzat's forearm. The assassin hissed in pain and drew his hand back, then slashed at Aldayr with a hateful gleam in his dark eyes. Aldayr turned aside the first few one-handed blows; then, on pure instinct, he dropped to one blade and swung a powerful two-handed blow.

The Anzat recoiled away from the strike, but it tore the sword from his grasp, sending it thumping across the carpet. Aldayr had committed most of his strength to the blow, and before he could bring the blade back to guard the Anzat darted in, grabbing the long hilt with both hands. They jockeyed for position, wrenching the hilt this way and that, until the Anzat jabbed with the hilt itself and struck Aldayr right in the forehead.

He had the presence of mind to deactivate the blade, but the Anzat ripped the weapon from his grasp and threw it across the room. Seizing Aldayr by the neck, he slammed him into a wall. The room was already lit only by the light leaking through the broken patio window in the room beyond, and as the Anzat's fingers tightened the room grew darker in Aldayr's sight. He tugged on the Anzat's hands with his own, punched the man in the stomach, but he saw the proboscises extending from the sides of the killer's nose.

He punched the Anzat with his durasteel hand, and the man grunted, his grip slackening just a bit. Aldayr took the enemy's singed arm in his mechanical hand and squeezed; for a moment they glared at one another, but then the assassin clenched his teeth in pain and Aldayr wrenched his hand free. He sucked in a gasp that smelled of the Anzat's foul breath, trying to crush the assassin's forearm, feeling the glare that matched his own.

Then, with a snap-hiss, blue light silhouetted the Anzat an instant before he screamed in pain. His grip slacked, and Aldayr caught both his forearms and forced him to his knees…or at least the one that remained. Narasi had hacked off his right leg at the knee.

With a wordless growl the Anzat wrenched free of Aldayr's real hand and lunged back, catching Narasi by the face, his fingers digging for her eyes. Aldayr raised his free hand, and his lightsaber shot across the room into his grip. He took it in two hands, held over his shoulder like a pickaxe, and engaged one blade.

The beam of energy pierced the Anzat through the chest, and he gasped in pain. He actually lurched into the blow, catching the hilt by the emitter. The hate and bloodlust in his eyes, mad beyond reason, were harrowing. Then Narasi's lightsaber came back to life, and the blue tip of her blade erupted from the Anzat's throat. He choked, and when he opened his mouth smoke poured between his teeth. Aldayr jerked his lightsaber from the man's grip, activated the second blade, and swung down; it snapped against Narasi's as he struck off the Anzat's head.

The black spot in the Force finally vanished, and Aldayr dropped to his knees as well as the corpse toppled sideways. Breathing hard, he disengaged his blades and returned his lightsaber to his belt. "You okay?"

"Yeh, I'm oday," Narasi said, but she hissed when she heard her own voice, and again when she gingerly patted her face. "He broke mah nose!"

That he had; even with the shadows distorting his vision, Aldayr was fairly sure Narasi's nose was not supposed to look that way. Then again… "At least we survived."

"And wiff all our limbs," she said, managing a half-smirk for him.

Aldayr laughed, then got to his feet, offering Narasi a hand up. Only then did he notice the civilians pressed into a chair across the room, barely daring to breathe. Narasi glanced at them, then Aldayr, making a face that seemed even more intimidating with half her face covered in blood. "Maybe you'd better haddle dis. Zygerryun."

"Right. Ma'am, it's okay now.  I'm Aldayr Nikodon…"

By the time Aldayr got the woman and her two children up and moving, Narasi had staggered into the kitchen to contact Tirien and come back even paler than when she went in. She met the woman's eyes, and the Human seemed to understand at once, because she closed her eyes and screwed up her face, willing herself not to cry in front of the children clinging to her. Aldayr stretched out the Force past Narasi and sensed nothing there.