Chapter Eleven
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I’m aware of a few things before my eyes open again. One, that sleeping while on glitteryll will give you some wacky sleep visions. Currently, I can see flashing colors and easily trick myself into thinking someone is laughing at me. The second thing is that it doesn’t smell like the inside of Hondo’s ship anymore.
It smells like petrichor, and salt water on rock. I’ve traveled to enough planets on jobs to know the smell. I can hear dripping, and almost feel the familiar prick of the drip as it combusts against something. When I shift my knees I’m quick to identify what I’m up against, and then I shoot up immediately.
The joints in my back and shoulders pop an excessive amount, but I don’t care. I’m not where I’m supposed to be. I’m not in the ship I stole. I’m not even in space anymore.
I can’t see much in the darkness. When I squint, I can just make out the shape of things. I can see the edges of rock walls that stretch over my head, paired with the roughness of the ground beneath me. I’m in a cave of some kind. It’s long enough for me to pace around in, but not enough to hide in.
Turning my head, I can see that to my left is a door. It’s barred like a cell, allowing the slightest bit of light to seep through the gaps. I can see more cave structures outside, but no exit of any kind. There are a few other cells like mine across the way, though I can’t much see inside them.
I push myself from the floor and surge to the cell door. Both my hands grasp around the bars. I can see the dirt and mud and grime caked on my fingers and under my nails, but I don’t care. My chest rises up and down as I desperately try to get a glimpse of my surroundings. I don’t like being caged. I’ve never liked being caged.
The view from being pressed against the bars isn’t much different than before. There’s not a lot of light, and the wall is dank and made of rocks. I must be underground. It would explain the staleness in the air. On the other hand, it doesn’t explain where I am underground exactly, so the information is near useless.
I take a quick step back, dropping my hands to my lightsabers. That’s when I discover that they’re not there. My palms pass over the area like ghosts, leading me to look down to confirm my fear. I know better than to frantically pat around my belt. Panicking will do nothing to help my situation.
Garreth’s jacket isn’t on my person anymore either. Neither is his notebook. My stims, food, knife- all gone.
Think, Keres. Who could’ve done this? I remember hitting my head on Hondo’s ship. I must’ve fallen unconscious. Damn it. That means it’s my own fault for leaving myself vulnerable in the first kriffing place. And I left all the glitteryll behind too!
The Empire? No. They wouldn’t operate underground, right? Well, they did on Zeffo. The Empire couldn’t have been tracking me… could they? I would’ve sensed it.
Who else have I pissed off that’s big enough to do this? The Scrappers guild maybe. They’ve never really hunted anyone down before. I’d be the first. No, it couldn’t be them.
A tension headache blooms in my forehead. I shake it away quickly, making me dizzy from all the glitteryll wearing off.
Well, I thought. I’m not going anywhere. Might as well sit down for a moment.
And then I did. The floor of dirt and rock and mud is damp against my trousers, but I don’t notice it much. My boots are still flecked with the white sand of Seelos and the lousy mud of Zeffo. The mud where I found that dead girl, to be precise.
I’m not really one for sentimental value. I can’t think of anything I own that I actually care enough about to risk my life for, or even really care enough to have. But the thought that maybe these boots are the closest thing I have to something like that is beginning to poke my mind.
These stupid boots have been with me this whole time. They’re the same boots I thought I was just wearing for a job. Instead, they’re the ones that I wore fighting an Imperial Inquisitor. Instead, they’re the ones I snuck out of a house in. Instead, they’re the ones I wore facing clones for the first time in three years. Instead, they’re the ones I wore nearly overdosing on glitteryll. These shoes don’t just hold my feet, toes, and ankles. They hold all the memories I’ve collected as well.
It doesn’t take long for my ridiculous thoughts to ask me if these boots are the closest thing I’ve had to a family. But then I think of Jarvers being engulfed in flames, and I quickly twitch in an attempt to shake the memory away.
Gods, Maker- whatever higher power- I know I’ve been bantha fodder my whole life, but please don’t let me die like this. I know I’ve stolen money from people in poverty and defaced religious statues and letsomeone take drugs I knew was laced, but please, I just don’t want it to end in a cage like this. If you can hear me, just do this for me.
The higher power must’ve heard me, because I didn’t die in that cell. They just made a compromise with me. I guess I’m lucky it held up though.
Pushing myself from the floor, I narrow my eyes at the exit. There’s no other way out of here. I could blow the door straight from it’s hinges, but that doesn’t seem smart. I should find my way out of here through sneaking instead of being brash headed. That wouldn’t help anything.
I crawl over to the bars. Mud sinks between my fingers and attaches itself underneath my nails, but I don’t care enough to notice. Once by the door, I press my face between bars. They feel cool against my cheeks and temples. My eyes flit around for anything I can use to pick the lock outside.
On the other end of the hallway, just to the side of another barred cell, is a long, jagged rock. It looks a bit shiny from drips falling on it, but it’s skinny. It’ll do.
My left hand reaches out past my door, stretching out. Immediately, my knees buckle under me and my head grows warm and foggy. I’m dizzy. Dizzy and weak. I pull my hand back with a bit of confusion, trying to shake away the warm cloud that brews in my skull.
Come on, Keres. We don’t have time for this.
Stretching my fingers out again, I concentrate on the rock. I want it here. I think about how it is a natural part of nature, and how nature bends to my will with enough respect on my part. After a minute, the rock twitches into the air and hovers over to my slowly. Pulling, pulling… got it.
As soon as it lands in my hand, my head buzzes with pain. It’s not striking or sharp, but slow and dull. Like a hum, almost. I should try not to use the Force so much right now. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m probably too weak.
No. Stop. Don’t think about that right now. Just put the rock in the lock and get the kriff out of here. No philosophical dialogue needed.
Oh, but I love philosophical dialogue! There’s so many things in the galaxy to think about, but instead I’m limiting myself to the necessities. Once I’m out of here, I’ll think about whatever I want, without the fear of a drilling headache. I’ll think about all the drugs I can take, and music and all the things I hate. It’ll be wonderful.
“Okay,” I whisper to myself hoarsely. My left arm reaches up to the lock, jamming the long rock around for a few seconds as I search for the keyhole. I can feel the pointy bits of the rock create a burning sensation against my palm. It stings as it mixes with the mud and dirt. My lower lip sucks between my teeth at the growing discomfort, until I decide I need my right hand too. My right fingers clasp over the left, continuing to scrape the rock against the metal.
After two more seconds of that, the rock slides into the hole with a click. I can feel something warm drip down my left wrist, but my hand is buzzing with nerves and I’m too relieved to care. I begin twisting my wrist as the rock slides into the lock further. I can feel it getting ready to click- so close. A discomforting groan escapes my gritted teeth as I feel the rock tear at my skin. But then I feel it click and twist effortlessly, and with a slump my cage door swings open.
I can’t push myself from the floor fast enough. I hate being in that damned cage. I’ll never be in one again.
As soon as I’m free, a noise from my right makes my head snap. I don’t know what it is exactly- I can only make out the form of a humanoid through my tunnel vision. They see me, and they see that I see. They’re about to turn and run, or grab something from their belt, but I won’t let them. In a messy surge I spring forward, wrapping one arm around their chest and jabbing the other into their neck. The sharp rock pierces the skin with little resistance, and I do it again to make sure I got them well enough.
I can feel the blood spray out in thick gushes, but I don’t care. If they didn’t want anything to happen to them, they shouldn’t have locked me up. They brought this on themselves.
I let the body drop to the floor in a heap. My heart is thump thumping against my ribs, and my brain feels clouded from the adrenaline. But up ahead, past the rows of cell doors like mine, I can see a metal door. A panel beside it is blinking green and yellow, and I decide that it’s my only option.
I drop the rock into the mud under me, and jog to the door. My palm sings in harmony at the retched thing no longer touching it. I only think of my wounds once I’m jamming my fist against the panel, waiting for the door to hiss open.
My left hand is wounded. My palm is ridden with several cuts varying between deep and shallow. All are dark red, some thick and others thin. Mud and dirt is smeared across the surface, mixing with the burgundy substance. One of the worst cuts in the middle has a sickly yellow ring already developing around it. In short, it didn’t really look good.
Before I can start to think about the man I just shanked in the neck, the door opens. I climb into the tiny room immediately, blinded by the orange hued lights on the inside. I let my right hand select the only button I can- ‘UP’- to give my left a break for a bit. It stings like hell, and I’m left to wonder if opening that door was even worth the cost of a probable infection.
The elevator stops with a shake. The door slides open with a long creak, and I’m back in the dark. I can see into an open, cave like area with two figures at the sides. Each hold a long weapon that sparks with purple electrical lines. Tasers of some kind most likely.
I’m about to thrust out a hand and send them both to the afterlife, but the inside of my head begins to ring like a gong. Immediately, my body goes slack with exhaustion and shock. The guard on my right grabs a fistful of my top and throws me into the ground in front of him, allowing dirt to get into my mouth. There’s a mechanical chuckle that comes from his own. And as I lie there on the mud in defeat, all I know for certain is that I want him dead. Dead for caging me and humiliating me, even if he’s not fully responsible for either. I want him to suffer.
“Get up,” he demands in a gravelly voice. He thrusts his weapon towards me, making my back arch as electrical currents bounce around my skin like quick music. His slanted red eyes narrow at the sight of my pain. “I said-”
I’m on my feet in a flash. I say nothing, but my face hardens. Looking up at him, I can see how much taller he is than I. I can see that he is not even human. I can see that the years of being a guard in this line of work has made him into a man of insecurity. I don’t care. I will kill him. I can’t now, for the other guard will see me and I’ll be too tired to fight back. But soon.
I stare at the guard for a few seconds, imagining him twitching like the one I killed with the rock. I imagine the way his blood would hit the ground and how I’d stomp around in it. I imagine watching the color drain from his eyes as he looks into my own and realizes his mistake. And it calms me.
I turn around slowly, facing the exit of the cave. I can hear the dim roar of a crowd and music that I know I’ve heard before. But I don’t recognize where I am or why. I’m at a disadvantage.
I take a few steps forward. As the light at the end of the tunnel creeps closer, it begins to hurt my eyes, which have adjusted to being in the underground shade for so long. My left hand reaches up to block out some of the blinding rays as I continue forward. And then finally, I’m in the room. The crowd cries at my entrance, and I watch their arms pump and jump from behind a fence above me.
There are four walls- one of which is a ray shield that lets me see into space. The other three spew out something I was almost expecting- people. Two humans and a Zabrak. I would look to them for answers, but they’re just as confused as me. All I know is that whatever happens next, it won’t be a walk in the meadows. The crowd is roaring.
A giant blue hologram comes to life in the center of the room. The people screams even louder in approval, if it’s possible. My ears pop as I watch a man in the hologram appear fifty feet high and motion for the crowd to settle down after blowing a few kisses. While my eyes still adjust to the light, I can just observe enough of him to get a basic idea of who he is.
Umbaran, torso made of metal. His hair is up in a ponytail above his head, and he wears a cape like a king. I think I know who it is, but I’m not just going to blurt it out. Mur and Talik have mentioned someone named Sorc Tormo before- a crime lord for an organization called the Haxion Brood.
“Welcome, welcome all,” he says menacingly. His hologram leans down a bit to make eye contact with the Zabrak, who appears to be trembling. “My, what a special day it is today!” He turns his attention back to the crowd.
“We all know how rare it is to find force users, don’t we? After all that rebellion and whatnot. They always make themselves so difficult to find! But we found some-” the crowd goes nuts- “just floating through space, can you believe it? No? No? I couldn’t either! So I said, why don’t we hang onto them? Make a show out of it?”
My eyes narrow in anger. If and when I live through this, this guy will regret not leaving me be. That’s my new reason to live- basic vengeance.
“So, here we are! Jedi!”
I’m not a Jedi.
“I expect all of you to put up a dirty, dirty fight. Last one standing gets to live!” His face is wiped blank of excitement, and he turns away before snapping his fingers and saying “Oh! Give them their new toys! Hope you folks don’t mind, we made some alterations,” and flickers back into nonexistence.
From the corner of my right eye, I can see something spinning towards me. I reach my hand out, pulling it to me with help from the force and observe.
It’s my lightsabers. Both of them, fused into one. When I twist either end, they separate. Just as I had intended to do myself.
Thank you, I say in my mind. This will be most useful.
The other Jedi are all staring at their lightsabers in disbelief. None of theirs look to be double bladed and detachable like mine. While they stare at their weapons like children, I ignite my red saber and take a deep breath. I grip the hilt with both hands and raise it defensively.
The male on the right snaps his head towards me. He reminds me of the unstable Jedi on Zeffo- auburn hair, slight beard, stocky. When I make eye contact with him, I feel calm inside. Kind of slow and relaxed and tired. I can see that he is not one for unnecessary violence, and the wheels inside of his brain are turning like mine. But I don’t know how to get out of this situation without engaging in the rules that Tormo laid out. I am not in control.
I’ve never killed anyone for sport before. I’ve killed without remorse or guilt before, and I have killed and enjoyed it. But I’ve never killed for such a small or petty reason. Somehow, the very thought feels dirty and dishonest, and that means something from me. But what other option do I have? I have to kill this guy. I have to kill all three of them.
The crowd is not only screaming nonsense, now they’re screaming obscenities.
“Fight it out!”
“Give us a kriffing show!”
The Zabrak pushes his saber’s switch, and the blue sword comes to life. His facial expression morphs into one of determination and ferocity, but all I can see is someone extremely arrogant. It seems my paranoia and intuition about someone’s character won’t even pause in a life or death scenario. When he makes eye contact with me, he charges forward.
I rub my boots in the dirt a bit to give myself a firmer stance. My fingers wrapped around the cylinder tighten in anticipation. Come on, Zabrak. Show me what you’ve got.
BAM! A giant structure erupts from the floor and stops the man mid run. Beside me, another structure raises and slides down after what I count to be two seconds. The whole arena is rigged with booby traps.
I’m certain the man survived this encounter with the boobytrapped floor- he’s most likely just knocked back. Before the cylinder he ran into falls back into the floor, I run to the right to put some space between me and him. I jump when I encounter the other human male, who’s green lightsaber clashes against the red I wield. He looks as shocked as I do, but after a moment his expression changes to defensive and strong.
He pushes me back with his saber, making me slide backwards in the dirt and moving quickly to block his string of offensive attacks. His strength is overpowering me, slowly but surely. He’s forcing me back to one of the giant cylinders raising and lowering from the floor. If I’m not careful, I’ll either knock into one or be given a ride up.
“We don’t have to fight!” he grits. “I don’t want to hurt you!”
It’s a nice sentiment, but it annoys me.
I catch his lightsaber against mine and twist, pushing his into the dirt. The man looks up at me, teeth grit together. While his eyebrows are pushed down to express anger or frustration, his eyes tell me something different. He so looks like he doesn’t want to be here, that he doesn’t want to fight any of us. I believe him. But as long as I have a chance to live and get the hell out of here, I have to take it.
I switch my saber off and jump back onto the platform. It shoots into the air and I balance myself. Above, I can see the female human weave her way between the structures as the Zabrak heaves himself up onto one. Below me, the man stares up at me, knees bent slightly in preparation. Ah, I see. He’s going to Jedi flip up here.
Without thinking, I flip my saber back on. My pointed toes slip from the structures and I fall down. I pull my arms above my head, then sink it down like the teeth of a venomous snake. I can feel the blade catch in the mans skin, right on the nape of his neck. With the momentum, I spring back up and jump behind him, my chest heaving with adrenaline.
I watch for a moment, before the man crumples to the dirt, dead.
The crowd’s volume only increases in approval at my action. I stare at the dead Jedi in front of me. This handsome, stocky warrior is dead by my hand. Did he have a family? Someone to return to? A homeworld he tried to find after the purge? There’s a spark of guilt growing inside of me, but I quickly silence it by insisting I had no choice.
“Ah, our first kill!” Tormo’s voice rings out. “Let’s see how you all do without cover!”
The rising and lowering cylindrical structures fall into the floor and don’t elevate themselves again. The Zabrak ignite their sabers when he meets my eyes- one blue and one green. I swallow and switch on the red saber again, this time the green saber on the other side following momentarily.
The male starts charging towards me for a second time, blue lightsaber bobbing up and down with each step. Hurriedly, I pass my lightsaber to my right hand and thrust my left hand forward. Immediately, the indigo lightning shoots from my fingers and freezes the man in a cage. The woman flinches and her eyes widen.
Then, suddenly, I’m angry and guilty and more upset than I’ve ever been. I’m angry at myself for killing the Jedi- both of them. I’m angry at the clones for forcing me from my life on Ilum. I’m even angry at Cal for making me enjoy his company. And most importantly, I’m angry at these Jedi for challenging me. I’m angry at my parents, for leaving me. I’m angry at the Empire and the Republic and myself more than anyone.
My hand is becoming more and more sore, but I can’t stop the anguish in my stomach. I’m not even sure I want to.
“Kriff!” I scream out. The rage inside crashes out through the lightning and the Force and there’s a great flash of light. I’m blasted back, hitting the wall behind me. There’s a ringing in my ears and I can’t see. All I can feel is the sweat dripping from my forehead and the sting of the air.
I grip my lightsaber tight, afraid to lose it. It’s my lifeline, even though it’s switched off. After a moment and my heartbeat beginning to steady, my vision returns to normal. A hint of tunnel vision, but I can see color in the form of whizzing blurs.
Tormo’s voice booms overhead. “Well, ladies and gentlemen! It seems we have a winner! Let’s let her be on her way, shall we?”