CHAPTER SEVEN
“Blueberry to Flyboy: All of the guards are down for the count.”
“Copy that, er, ‘Blueberry,’” Poe said into his comlink. “Meet us at the northeast entry point. Flyboy, out.”
He ended the call before turning to look at Valrisa, who was waiting with him at said entry point with Kyla and Jessika. “Interesting partner, you’ve got,” he said.
“I’ve always thought so,” Valrisa said with a shrug.
Poe then switched channels on his comlink. “Vessin, any progress?”
“We’re in,” the Mandalorian woman responded. “Making our way to where you guys are.”
“Any resistance so far?”
“Not yet. We didn’t make too much of a noisy entrance and we haven’s spotted or been spotted by anyone.”
“Keep it that way. Flyboy— er, Poe, out.” He took a moment to take a deep breath. “So far, so good,” he muttered before switching channels to their last team. “Bedo, how’s the distraction going?”
He heard the Ortolan say something but was unable to make it out. Whatever it was, it sounded like a terrified squeal. Several seconds passed before what sounded like lightsabers filled the comm feed. Then the channel went dead.
As Poe stared off into space, trying to comprehend what he had just heard, he could faintly hear Kyla mutter under her breath.
“You just had to say that, didn’t you?”
* * *
Toah Jarsan felt cold.
It had come over him like a cold breeze; not a pleasant cold like an autumnal wind, but a sharp and harsh one, like one would experience in a raging blizzard. He turned around to see the source of the intrusion and felt his heartbeat quicken.
While the others in the masked man’s entourage were unfamiliar to him, Toah knew he had seen their leader before, back during the Battle of Ossus. Known as Kylo Ren, the Sith-like warrior had brought down many Jedi with his unstable red blade, including Jedi Master Taana Di. From what he had been told in secret, Kylo Ren was also none other than Han and Leia Solo’s son Ben, previously thought dead. How Ben Solo had survived his apparent demise, Toah was not sure… and he doubted that the darksider was going to be willing to provide any answers.
As the dark warriors grew closer, he sensed both Rey and Zarin tense up, reaching for their lightsabers. Toah raised a hand to stay his apprentice, at the same time becoming conscious of the fact that all three of them were lugging around cumbersome musical instruments. At this point, he knew there was no sense in keeping up the charade; from the way Kylo Ren seemed to be staring right at him, it was clear that the dark warrior recognized him from Ossus.
“Ah, Kylo Ren,” the Arkanian receptionist said from behind the Jedi, her tone sharing none of the apprehension that Toah was feeling. “The Curator is expecting you on level—”
She was cut off by the snap-hiss of an unstable red blade of energy emitting from the lightsaber in Kylo Ren’s hand, causing Bedo to squeal in fright. Instinctively, Toah, Rey, Zarin all activated their own lightsabers, though Zarin’s own red blade stood out jarringly from Toah and Rey’s blue ones. Toah decided not to dwell on that matter for now and instead focused his attention on Kylo and his fellow Knights of Ren.
“Put down your weapons!” snarled one of the Selonian guards, raising a blaster at the Jedi.
“Him first,” Zarin grunted, inclining his head towards Kylo.
“The Knights of Ren here are the Curator’s distinguished guests,” the Arkanian said coldly. “You and the friends, on the other hand, are not welcome. Would you like me to call CorSec for you?”
Toah grimaced as he tightened his grip on his lightsaber. Kylo Ren remained silent nor did he move to make the first strike, though the other Knights of Ren were visibly tense and had their weapons drawn, ranging from vibroaxes to blaster rifles.
“Do you think we can take them all?” Rey whispered to him.
“No,” Toah said truthfully. “But we can’t let them get in the way of the others.”
“So what do we do?”
“We do what we came here to do,” Toah replied. “We distract.”
With that, he thrust out his hand and called on the Force. As if blown by a gust of wind, Kylo Ren was sent flying into the other Knights, knocking them down.
As expected, chaos ensued and Toah decided to make the best of it as he could.
* * *
Kadar stood over the unconscious human worker who had been the sole occupant of the yacht’s first level control room. Wiskin stood guard at the door, keeping an eye out for any unwanted company, while Vessin worked at the main computer to open the door that would let Kyla and the others in.
However, Kadar’s attention was centered on the set of viewscreens situated just above Vessin’s head. While none of the other screens showed anything of note, the one on the furthest left displayed an image of the main lobby… and the events that were unfolding on it made Kadar grimace.
“Our Jedi friends seem to be in trouble,” he muttered.
“I can see that,” Vessin replied, focused on her task. “Nothing we can do for them at the moment; I’ve already alerted Poe and the others.”
Kadar continued to stare at the screen, his heartbeat increasing its velocity as he watched the saber-wielding warriors clash. “They haven’t raised the alarms yet,” he observed.
“Please don’t jinx it, dad.” After a moment, Vessin then said, “All right, they’re in. Let’s go meet up with them.”
She turned away from the computer and headed for the door. She passed Kadar, who remained rooted in place. Looking over her shoulder at him, she said quietly, “Dad, come on. Let’s go.”
“Right behind you,” Kadar muttered, willing his legs to cooperate with his mind.
* * *
Kylo Ren was quick to get back on his feet and proceeded to lunge at Toah, bringing his lightsaber down like a hammer. Toah raised his own blade to block the attack and red and blue beams crashed together. Rey moved to help him only for a lithe Knight of Ren with large green wings to fly at her, wielding a red lightsaber of their own. Rey was barely able to block the S’kytri’s attack in time and the two proceeded to exchange strikes, parrying one after the other.
With the two Jedi occupied, Zarin set his sights on the remaining six Knights and charged towards them. One of them raised a blaster cannon attached to their arm and fired, the resulting blast sending the Kiffar ex-Jedi flying. As he crashed into the front desk, the Arkanian woman behind it calmly lowered a blast shield, sealing herself off from the action.
Calling upon the Force once more, Toah pushed Kylo Ren back again but this time the dark warrior expected the repulsion and used the Force himself to hold his ground, merely staggering back a few steps. Reorienting himself, he assessed Toah carefully from behind his mask, rotating his crossguard lightsaber in his hand.
“This is your only chance,” he said. “Surrender now and none of you shall be harmed.”
“Has anyone ever actually fallen for that?” Toah asked.
“It’s not a matter of ‘falling for it,’” Kylo coolly replied, “so much as making the wisest decision.”
“Right.” Toah took a moment to assess the situation. He already knew that the three of them (and Bedo) would not be able to defeat the eight Knights of Ren; at the same time, he wasn’t sure how long they could hold out until the others had done their part of the mission. It was also more than likely that the Arkanian receptionist had already caught on to their plan and had alerted the rest of the facility.
That left only one other option….
“Bedo,” he said quietly. “Time to face the music.”
Huddled nearby with his hands covering his face, the Ortolan peeked through his fingers at the Jedi. “Yeah. It’s been nice knowing you, too.”
“No, no. I mean… it’s time for them to face the music.”
“What are you…? Oh.” Realization dawned on Bedo’s face at the same time as sorrow acceptance. With a sigh, he reached for the bandfill Toah had been carrying and flipped it over on its side, exposing a small button. “It’s been nice hearing you, then.”
Before any of the Knights could figure out what the Ortolan was doing, a blue pudgy finger pressed the button and the entire room erupted in a chorus of white noise.
* * *
After entering the star yacht through the door Vessin had opened, Poe, Valrisa, Kyla, Jessika, and Typha made their way through the labyrinth of corridors that made up the dormant ship’s interior. Strangely, they encountered few if any guards and those they did they were easily able to sneak past. As grateful as she was about the lack of resistance, Valrisa was also unsettled by it. Considering that Bedo and the Jedi appeared to be having issues, it was a strange deviation from how smoothly things appeared to be running for them. Had the crew of the yacht simply not noticed them yet? Did the yacht even have that much of a crew?
She decided to put such thoughts aside as they met up with Vessin, Wiskin, and Ziar. Sparing a moment to view a map Vessin had retrieved from the control room, they proceeded to head for the turbolift that would take them to the main office.
As they headed down the corridor, Valrisa felt a pricking at the back of her mind. She knew what it was — even after twelve years she had not forgotten her basic training — and was bracing for them to run into danger with each corner they turned. Even as they finally reached the elevator and stepped onto it, the feeling persisted and only increased as they ascended up the star yacht’s many levels.
“We’re walking into a trap,” she found herself uttering without even intending to.
“Yeah, this does feel a bit too easy,” Poe replied. “Who knows, maybe we’ve been wrong about this whole thing. Maybe the Cabal isn’t operating here.”
“Even so, it’s strange that there’s been so little security,” said Jessika. “You’d think that a place like this would have something….”
These words only served to further Valrisa’s apprehension as the turbolift ascended closer and closer to their destination. Finally, the lift reached a halt and the doors quietly slid open. Beyond them was a quaint office that was as much a small museum as it was an office. Historic paintings and holo-images decorated the walls while numerous glass cases and shelves contained exotic items originating from all across the galaxy. From Tyia amulets to Dathomiri totems, the collection of whoever resided here was evidently large and expansive; it would have taken days, perhaps even months, to catalog every single item in the room.
Situated in the center of the room were two conform loungers with a table between them. Sitting languidly across one of them, facing Valrisa and the others, was a man with tan skin and white hair, with equally white eyes staring back at his visitors. A warm smile tugged at his tight lips.
“I was wondering when you would get here,” he said. He gestured casually with one hand. “Please, come in. Make yourselves at home.”
Eying him carefully, Valrisa and the others stepped into the room. Ziar, however, did not move; it seemed as if he was rooted in place, staring directly at the white-haired man.
“You….” Ziar breathed heavily as he spoke, the sound amplified by the voice modulater of his helmet. “It can’t be….”
The Arkanian glanced in Ziar’s direction and his smile widened, flashing a set of pearly teeth. “Now that is a voice I have not heard in a long time. How are you doing, Kadar?”
Valrisa’s eyes went wide at the mention of the name and she turned to look at the white-armored man. Typha was also studying him carefully, her golden eyes narrowed in scrutiny.
“Kadar?” the Pantoran woman asked. “Isn’t he that Mandalorian bounty hunter who was famous a few years back?”
Vessin closed her eyes as she sighed. Kyla and Wiskin shared a frown while Poe and Jessika exchanged befuddled glances.
“I knew this was going to happen, sooner or later,” Vessin muttered.
Ignoring them all, Kadar pushed his way past them and stormed up to the seated Arkanian, drawing a blaster on the still-smiling man.
“You… YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD!” he roared. “I KILLED YOU!”
“Did you?” The Arkanian tapped his chin in mock thoughtfulness. “Oh, that’s right, I suppose you did. Or my clone, rather.”
“Your… your clone?” Kadar asked, his voice hoarse.
“I’m an Arkanian, Kadar. A master of genetics. Cloning is like child’s play to us… especially when it is done to our own kind.”
"No.” Kadar’s voice shook, along with the rest of his body. “It can’t be true. It’s not… possible….”
“Enough.” Kyla’s voice was firm yet gentle as she came up to stand besides Kadar, resting a hand on his weapon arm and carefully lowering it. She fixed her gaze on the Arkanian, narrowing her eyes at him. “Tell us who you are,” she demanded.
“Certainly,” he replied. “My name is Sal Tyrius. I am the Curator.”
“I know who you are.” Poe stepped forward, a hand on his holstered blaster. “You were one of Black Sun’s Vigos.”
“Ah, yes.” Tyrius sighed wistfully. “I will admit, I do not remember those days fondly. Those fellows were… quite a bit barbaric for my tastes.”
“So what is it that you do now?” asked Kyla.
Tyrius gestured to the room around them. “I have always been focused on my collection. Even when I worked with Black Sun, it served as my primary motivation.”
“I don’t buy it,” growled Wiskin. “You’re working with the Cabal, aren’t you?”
“Ah.” Tyrius’ smile lost its mirth as he interlaced his fingers. “You know about that then, do you?”
“It’s the whole reason why we’re here,” Poe said. “We’ve been tracking the Cabal’s activities for nearly a year now and have traced them all the way here on Corellia.”
“In that case, well done.” Tyrius splayed his hands as he smiled; Valrisa could not tell if the expression was genuine or not. “I don’t see any point in denying it at this point.”
“Right….” Poe glanced at the others before looking back at the Curator. “So, uh, we’re going to arrest you now.”
Tyrius shook his head. “No, you’re not.”
Behind them, the turbolift doors closed as all of the lights in the room dimmed. Kadar moved to point his blaster at Tyrius again only for several automatic turrets to come down from the ceiling and point at him and the others.
“You’re going to drop your weapons,” the Curator said calmly, “and do exactly as I tell you.”
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