CHAPTER TEN
Serra winced as her back hit the pavement of the ground. She should have figured that the large alien would have been a lot stronger than her. As she struggled to rise, she saw Hrakh standing over her.
"I'm terribly sorry, Lady Vader," he said. "My brother sometimes does not know his own strength."
Serra gave him a baffled look. "'Lady Vader?' Seriously? You really have lost it. Now let go of my dad."
"Only if you come with us to Honoghr and fix our home," snarled Hrakh's brother. "If not, then your father shall do it instead."
"Yeah, like knocking him out cold is going to gain his trust." She grunted as she stood up. "Can't we, like, talk this out?"
"That was what I was trying to do," Hrakh said. "I took it from our discussion that you weren't interested."
"Okay, can we drop the poodoo already?" Rikk-Deri snapped. "Why is the fate of your planet so important that you need to go to such great lengths to fix it? Wouldn't the Galactic Alliance be more able to do it than either Serra or her dad? And how would they, anyway?"
"To be perfectly honest with you, neither of us knows," Hrakh said. "Our master simply told us that either Lady Vader or a relative of her's would be able to save Honoghr."
"Will you please drop the 'Lady Vader' stuff?" Serra said. "And who is this master of yours?"
"That would be me."
Serra and her companions turned at once to see a tall, dark-haired man standing before them. Going by the regal clothes he wore and the invaluable cane he carried, Serra assumed that was of nobility or some other high-status.
"I am Count Valmar of Serenno," the man said. "For the past few years, I've been investing in the restorations of planets hurt by war, Honoghr being among them."
"And you want me to take part in it because...?" Serra asked.
Valmar smiled. "Because the Noghri don't fully trust me. I need something- or someone- that can win their loyalty. Considering that they practically worship Darth Vader, I needed to have them sniff out someone of their kin."
"Ah, but you've run into a tactical blunder," Rikk-Deri said. "You've just knocked Serra's dad out could. How are you going to win our loyalty?"
The Count shifted his gaze to Hrakh's brother, realizing that he was carrying Anakin Solo's unconscious form. Glaring at the Noghri, Valmar said, "Brakh, please gently lower Master Solo."
Grunting, the alien brute did as told, placing Anakin on the ground. "My apologies, Lady Vader and Count Valmar."
Serra opened her mouth to object to Brakh's use of the honorific but was cut off by Valmar.
"Now then, would you three like to accompany me to Honoghr?" he asked. "This is, after all, for a good cause. For too long has the Galactic Alliance neglected worlds such as Honoghr, Jabiim, and Nez Peron the fortune of the restoring their former glory."
"I don't know," Serra muttered. "If the other Noghri are like these two and are prone to brute force...."
"Rest assured, my lady," Hrakh said. "Those in our clan, as well as others, would not dare harm you or those who pose no threat to you."
"I'm not buying any of this," Rikk-Deri said. "Serra, how about we just leave and go back to Coruscant. Working for Peet doesn't seem so bad anymore."
Staring at Count Valmar impassively, Serra folded her arms across her chest. "So, what if I say no?"
Valmar frowned. "Well, I was hoping that you would be willing to grant your assistance...."
Serra shook her head. "Sorry, but no. I don't know about you, but I don't feel comfortable about being worshiped by a bunch of big, scary aliens."
Valmar tilted his head, his smile returning. "I understand. In that case, my friends and I will be off."
Nodding, Serra turned around to return to the Millennium Falcon only for a sharp pain to hit her in the back and knock her out cold.
* * *
Count Valmar frowned as he looked upon the unconscious forms of Serra Solo, her Rutanian friend, and Anakin Solo. He had hoped that he would have accomplished the mission without resorting to force, but he had been left with no choice.
While the two Noghri warded off any bystanders who took notice of the scene, Valmar turned to the Mrlssi who had served as Serra and her companions' tour guide.
"Your assistance is to be commended," the Count said dryly. "Remember, after we part ways, you are not to breathe a word of what happened here or even acknowledge its existence."
Kepor Dagwa nodded. "I understand, my lord. However, you still have yet to hold up your end of the bargain."
"Ah, yes." Reaching into a pocket on his elaborate vest, Valmar brought out an old, dusty book titled The Life and Lies of Pagda Luwa.
"There you go," Valmar said, handing the Mrlssi the book. "And remember, not a word of this."
Dagwa's beak twisted into a smirk. "About what?"
Returning the smirk in kind, Count Valmar turned to the two Noghri and said, "Return to the ship and take our friends with you."
"What about the vessel in which they arrived?" Brakh asked.
Valmar smiled coldly. "I believe I will be making a purchase."
* * *
Varon Krul awoke from his meditation at the sound of his comlink buzzing. Answering it by activating its holoprojector, Varon bowed his head when the visage of his master appeared.
"Master," he murmured. "Jacen Solo has not yet arrived on Nyssa."
"Jacen Solo is no longer a high priority," Count Valmar said. "I have a new task for you to undertake... one that may be more to your liking."
A wicked grin crossed the Sith apprentice's face. "Name it, master."
EPILOGUE
When news of Scur Bodalla's death reached Jutrand, Governor Pol Zurn could not have been any happier. Relieved of his burden of being affiliated with the crime lord, Zurn had become a lot more jovial and outgoing, which many found unexpected of an Advozse.
However, the day a human male in a black cloak strode into his office, with dead guards laying outside, Zurn knew that his short-lived peace had come to an abrupt end.
Bracing himself for what was to come, Governor Zurn said, "May I help you?"
"The holocron you were to deliver to Bodalla," the stranger growled. "Who did you give it to?"
"Two males- a Bothan and a human. Their names escape me."
Ire flickered in the man's yellow eyes and for a brief second, Zurn felt his neck constrict. The sensation faded as the man spoke again.
"The holocron's been stolen, looted from Bodalla's corpse, by a man wielding a lightsaber. Do you know who that man was?"
"How should I know?" Zurn exclaimed. "I wasn't even there!"
"He's visited you," the stranger snarled. "I can sense it. He visited you and wanted to know about the holocron. Who was he?"
The Advozse raised his hands. "I-I have no idea! He didn't say! I swear-!"
"Swear to me."
A scarlet blade of light suddenly appeared in the stranger's hand. As the Governor yelped out in terror, the man raised the blade to his chest.
"Tell me his name. Or you die."
Zurn's neck tightened again, so much that he couldn't even speak. The last thing he saw before the scarlet blade entering his chest was the sinister grin on his murderer's face.
* * *
Something was not right.
With night having fallen on Ossus, Jedi Master Lexa Varr was the only one left in the Archives, sorting out misplaced books and cleaning up whatever food or drinks had been spilled by clumsy and careless students.
However, she felt as if something was... off. Following her instincts, she carefully walked towards the secret chamber in which holocrons made exclusively for the eyes of Jedi Masters- such as Sith holocrons- were held. Entering the vault, red and blue lights illuminated the room. All around her, rows of holocrons were stacked together. Everything was in order....
Except one of them was missing. And deep down, Lexa knew which one it was: the holocron given to her by the Bothan spy.
The holocron of Darth Necrosis.
And whoever had stolen it was without a doubt up to no good.
TO BE CONTINUED
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