Bloodlust: Crisis/Chapter 4

The Baron Administrator of the Atairis System was a large man. He sat in his high-backed chair, dressed in his finest silk robes, but his eyes were tired and it was all he could do to put up a hand to stifle the yawn escaping from his mouth as Artel, Ballo and Doc exited the lift and strode confidently into the audience chamber at the very top of the spire.

"Calvaro Hyarkis," Artel smiled warmly and bowed reverently. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"You too, Master Jedi," Hyarkis replied, forcing himself out of his seat and returning the bow with a stiff nod of his head."And who are these?" he asked, his chins wobbling.

"I am Master Artel's personal doctor," Doc explained, bowing slightly.

"And this is my apprentice, Ballo," Artel added, motioning at Ballo. Ballo's head was smothered by a cloak and his face was shrouded in shadow; even without his beard it would have been impossible to know he was, in reality, a clone trooper.

Hyarkis, apparently satisfied, bade them to sit down in one of the chairs arranged in a circle in the centre of the audience chamber. As they sat, another man, a green-skinned Nautolan, who had been waiting behind Hyarkis, stepped forward.

"And this," Hyarkis hurriedly added, as if he had only just noticed the small, lean figure, "is my personal aide, Vi Assari."

Artel stood and bowed in the Nautolan's direction. Vi Assari returned the gesture with a nervous smile.

"And now, to business," Hyarkis began, sitting heavily back down in his chair at the head of the circle.

"Indeed." Artel settled back and tapped his lightsaber gently, as if to make sure that it was still there.

Hyarkis tapped a button on one of the arms of his chair and an image popped up from the holoprojector in the centre of the circle. The figure of a Neimoidian, twice as tall as any of them and tinted faintly blue, looked sternly down on them. The image was frozen and the figure was unmoving, but Artel could still feel the malice in those large, reddish eyes and see the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"I don't need to tell you who this is," Hyarkis smiled at them.

"Nute Gunray," Artel observed, looking the Neimoidian up and down.

Hyarkis pressed the "play" button on his armchair control system and the image came to life.

"Baron Administrator," Gunray began, his tone oily and thick. "I am Viceroy Gunray, representing the Trade Federation. We are aware that your planet receives most of its supplies from our company."

Hyarkis paused the image. "That is correct. Our planet is too barren to support plant life, so we rely almost wholly on supplies from other planets." He resumed the recording.

"However," Gunray continued, "the Trade Federation has recently decided to join the Separatist Movement against the Republic. If you do not join us in this..." Gunray paused for dramatic effect, "we will not be able to provide your system with supplies. Good day." Gunray's image vanished and Hyarkis looked meaningly across at Artel.

"When did you receive this message?" Artel demanded.

"A year or so ago," Hyarkis explained. "I was away on a diplomatic mission to Naboo, or somewhere like that, and when I came back I had been left this message."

"And you decided to cut your ties with the Federation and stay with the Republic?" Artel inquired. Hyarkis nodded heavily.

"But," Doc butted in, "I was under the impression that the Republic had agreed to supply your system instead."

"So were we," Vi Assari broke in, his voice thick and accented. "The Republic supplied us for a time, but when this war started, they cut us off!"

Hyarkis nodded slowly. "The Republic hasn't sent us fresh supplies for weeks now, ever since this dreadful war started. Our people are starving, Master Jedi. We cannot provide one city with enough food, let alone an entire system..." Hyarkis trailed off and looked sadly at Artel.

Ballo shrugged. "With this war," he explained to Hyarkis, "the hyperspace lanes have been cut off so as to transport soldiers and supplies to the front."

"Ha!" Assari ejaculated. "So the Republic is caring more about other planets that have abandoned them than the loyal ones?"

"The Republic's interests are the safety of the Republic as a whole," Artel announced.

"So, does that mean-"

Artel put up a hand to stop him. "Nevertheless," he reassured the nervous Hyarkis and the angry Assari, "I will report to the Council and I will see if I can reestablish trade routes with the system."

Hyarkis smiled. "Good."

Assari looked across at Artel, barely concealed malice in his eyes. "Wouldn't a senator be a better to choice to negotiate this deal?" he asked testily.

"The Baron asked for a Jedi personally," Artel replied coolly. "And he sent his request to the Jedi Council, not the Senate."

Hyarkis nodded. "The Senate is corrupt," he explained. "If I'd sent my complaint there, it would have been months before anything was decided. With the Jedi, immediate action can be taken."

"Indeed," Artel agreed.

The lift doors at the far end of the audience chamber opened and an two impoverished Biths strode inside.

"I'm afraid I have other matters that need dealing with," Hyarkis stood. "Good day, gentleman."

Artel bowed to Hyarkis and his aide and strode back towards the lift, closely followed by Ballo and Doc.

"But, Master Jedi," Hyarkis called across to them as they waited for the lift to come up. "If you don't reestablish trade routes with the Republic... I'm afraid we have no choice but to join the Separatists."

Artel nodded slowly, deep in thought, and stepped silently inside the lift.

"So," Artel looked across at Ballo. "Professional opinion?"

Ballo drew back his hood, revealing his bald head and the ugly purple scar. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "it doesn't look like we've got much of a choice. We can't afford to lose this system, so... I guess we'd better bow to their wishes."

Artel nodded in agreement. "What about you, Doc?" he inquired, turning to the Rodian. "What did you think of them?"

Doc shrugged. "Hyarkis is a man on the edge," he said finally, after a long pause. "He's desperate for help. He's not joking about joining the Separatists. We'd better tread carefully; we're on thin ice here."