Scourge

by Jeff Grubb

  “I think we found Zonnos’s connection,” said Eddey.

  “Hmmm,” said Mander. “He has the pronounced dark veins of a Tempest user, but no signs of violence.”

  “So?” asked Reen.

  “So,” said Mander, “he probably didn’t fall victim to the rage we’ve seen elsewhere.” To the ponytailed barkeep he asked, “How did this one die?”

  The barkeep shrugged his tattooed shoulders and said, “He was alive, then he was dead. That was it.”

  “What are you thinking?” Eddey said to Mander.

  “If we had the chance to check out the corpse,” said Mander, “I think we’d find that he was poisoned. By something he thought was Tempest.”

  “How do you figure?” asked Reen.

  “No one knows how Tempest is made, or by whom,” said Mander. “Let’s assume that the individuals responsible are advanced biochemists, since no one seems to be able to synthesize it.”

  “And such a biochemist would be able to create a binary bioexplosive that could slide through a Hutt lord’s security,” said Eddey.

  “And would be able to poison our friend here,” said Mander. “Someone is cleaning up his tracks. Whoever is behind this knows someone is looking for him. We have one more place on our list. Let’s go.”

  The lights grew more infrequent, the corners and alleys darker. There was no sky above now, only a jagged ceiling made up of taller structures. It was impossible to determine if they were in any particular building, or if the towers of Nar Shaddaa had all broadened into one great moon-girding sprawl. The passages were little more than tunnels, broadening into larger courtyards bereft of plants or fountains. Inhabitants were now fewer, but Mander sensed they were watching, waiting for something to happen. Ahead of them was a dip in the tunnel, once perhaps part of an underpass now buried deep in the heart of the arcology that swallowed it.

  It was a perfect spot for an ambush, Mander realized, just before the first blaster bolts erupted around them.

  There were two attackers, hunkered down behind some trash compactors at the far end of the tunnel, their green trumpet-like antennae visible only when they popped up and shot. Bomu Rodians, laying down quick, random bursts, not risking their safety by poking their heads too far into view.

  Mander pulled his lightsaber out, but too slowly, and the stresscrete around them fractured and chipped from the blaster shot. He had the blade up soon enough, though, and deflected the most accurate of the shots. Reen and Eddey had their blasters out now as well.

  “Back up!” shouted Eddey. “We can try another route.”

  Mander started to shout that this would be impossible, that the Rodians ahead were not trying to kill them, but rather to herd them. But then the barrage came from behind them as the larger force of Bomus set up more withering, accurate fire and his observation was rendered moot.

  Reen and Eddey both returned fire on the more exposed pursuers, but Mander found himself torn in two directions, trying to deflect charged energy bolts from the front and rear, protecting the others while not getting in their way. Following the course of the bolts by mere feeling as opposed to careful thought, he felt his control slipping, and one bolt passed deadly close to the side of his head.

  “We go forward!” shouted Mander. “Take the two at the compactors and use them as cover!”

  The Jedi now backed away from the more numerous pursuers, deflecting the beams as Reen and Eddey laid down a steady set of blasts forward, stitching carbonized scars across the front of the compactors. The Bomu ahead of them were now popping up, trying to make accurate shots. Mander, dealing with an avalanche of fire from behind, could feel the sweat trickling down the back of his neck from the strain, and could feel his concentration fray against the onslaught. Each shot seemed to live in its own particular moment, and he had to strike at them all lest any hit the Pantoran and the Bothan in the back.

  Reen let out a shout as one of her shots potted a Bomu just as the raider stood up to lay down fire. The other kept up a steady barrage. “We’ve one left,” shouted Eddey.

  “Rush him!” shouted Mander, and turned to urge the pair forward into the random fire. He spun as he ran, deflecting bolts as best he could, but was now counting on Rodian timidity in combat more than his own abilities.

  Eddey and Reen dived over the first compactor, spun about, and started firing back at their pursuers from cover. Mander jumped over the second. As the Rodian raised his blaster rifle, Mander cut through the barrel, intending to cut down his attacker with the backhand recovery. This Rodian did not fall back, however, but rather lunged forward, driving the melted barrel of his weapon into Mander’s belly.

  The blow caught Mander by surprise, and he rolled to one side, the breath driven from his body. His lightsaber dropped from his hand and went spinning down the alleyway. He managed to twist, and landed on his back on the side of the compactor away from the rest of the fire. But now the Rodian was straddled over him, wielding his rifle like a club. Mander tried to squirm out of the path of the blow, but the heavy rifle stock caught him in the side of the head. The Rodian raised his weapon again to deliver a deathblow.

  And then there came a staccato of blasterfire, and the Rodian pitched over, his head a smoking ruin. Mander thought it was Reen or Eddey who had saved him, but no, the blasts had come from the wrong direction. Mander’s head was spinning from the blow, and the outside world was reduced to a narrow tunnel. He could hear himself struggling to draw breath, and the distant blasterfire, and Reen and Eddey shouting.

  Someone was kneeling next to him. Someone with red hair and corporate sector civvies, who now crouched over him and joined the others in repelling the Bomu attackers.

  “I swear,” said Angela Krin, “you are not like any Jedi I have ever met.”

  CHAPTER

  ELEVEN

  BENEATH THE SMUGGLERS’ MOON

  “I am officially on detached duty,” said Lieutenant Commander Angela Krin. “While you were my guests on the Resolute, I started investigating the Tempest trade, and convinced my superiors that the trail led to Nar Shaddaa.”

  The Bomu ambushers had fallen back once Angela had joined them—not outnumbered, but now facing three blasters operating from behind cover. Angela half led, half carried Mander to a nearby courtyard with a defensible entrance. Reen had recovered Mander’s now-deactivated lightsaber and handed it to him. Mander looked at it hard and long before he took it back. He had made an apprentice’s mistake, thinking the Rodian who had cut him down would just fall back in the face of the lightsaber’s power.

  “You followed us,” said Reen to the CSA agent.

  “I followed the trail,” said Angela frostily. “A trail you happened to already be on. I found you at the Dark Melody.” To Mander she said, “I have a contact nearby. We should go, if you’re ready.”

  Mander let out a deep breath. He should have been aware that they had been followed. His side hurt, and he wondered if he had cracked a rib. The ringing in his ears had subsided to a great degree. “I’m good,” he said, standing up slowly. “Let’s press on.”

  The surroundings decayed further now, the very pretense of civilization washed away. Here was the place that the trash and waste of the upper levels ended up. Piles of discarded packing and abandoned tools now littered the hallways, along with deactivated and repeatedly scavenged droids. There were humanoid bodies as well. Some of them had been partially eaten.

  “Vrblthers,” said Angela Krin, and Reen shot a questioning look at her. She explained, “They are or were a native life-form, scavengers that hunt in packs. They’ve adapted terribly well to life in a Hutt city.”

  “One more thing to worry about,” muttered Reen, now paying particular attention to the shadows.

  “You said the trail led to Nar Shaddaa,” said Mander. “How did you come to that conclusion?”

  “Remember the crashed ship, the one that brought the plague?” Angela said. “We managed to track it by the engine numbers.”

 
“And what did you find?” Eddey asked. “Who owns it?”

  “It was a Skydove ship,” Angela said, her face betraying no emotion. She was watching the Bothan for any reaction on his part.

  Eddey did not disappoint, a wave of surprise spreading across his face. “Skydove Freight? It was an Anjiliac ship carrying the drugs?”

  Angela Krin nodded. Reen snarled, “So Popara lied when he said that he didn’t deal in hard spice.”

  “I don’t know about that,” said Angela. “My contact was sure that Popara was unaware. That someone else in the organization was responsible.”

  “And we can talk to this contact?” asked Mander.

  “He is waiting for us at the Headache Bar,” said Angela. “Always start with the last place on your list. And yes, my contact knows about your list. If you hadn’t gotten pinned down back there, you would have met him already.”

  Ahead a sign flickered erratically. The Headache Bar, the three syllables of its name on different timers, long since fallen out of sync. Inside the place was unsurprisingly empty, a single spotlight over the central bar and deep shadows in a plethora of corners.

  One of those shadows moved.

  “My contact,” said Angela.

  Mika the Hutt slid out of the darkness and beckoned the others to join him. He was wearing the same style of vest he’d sported at the party, but this one was set in greenish flamewire and small red gems. With a small bag slung over one shoulder, he looked like nothing so much as a Hutt running away from home.

  Eddey flinched at the sight of him, and Reen reached for her blaster. Mander put a hand on the Pantoran’s shoulder. He said to Angela Krin, “That’s how you found out it was a Skydove ship, isn’t it? Mika told you.”

  “The CSA would have discovered it eventually,” said the small Hutt. “The registration was buried behind a couple of false-front companies, but not so well that a dedicated investigator would have missed it. Smuggling, as you know, often depends on people looking the wrong way, either by accident or design. I myself was unaware that one of the family’s ships was being used for the trade until I personally tracked the engine numbers that your Pantoran provided.”

  Reen ignored the idea that she was anyone’s Pantoran, and instead said, “So your father was responsible for the Tempest?”

  Mika blinked in what would pass for a shake of his neckless head. “No. When I came back, I checked through my family’s records. The Endregaad ship was reported as lost in a comet storm two years ago. Someone took it out of service and repurposed it. I think they did it without my father’s knowledge. He would have been shamed and angry if he knew.” Mika let out a deep sigh, and Mander wondered if it was from grief for his parent or that the Hutt was embarrassed to reveal a weakness in the family.

  The Jedi said softly, “We think that Zonnos may have been taking Tempest as well.”

  Mika’s eyes flew open, obviously surprised by the idea. But, catching himself, he quickly returned them to slits. “Yes,” said the small Hutt. “That makes a sort of sense. But surely even my brother would not seek Popara’s death!”

  Mander shook his head. “Not directly. There is more intelligence in play here than Zonnos has displayed so far.”

  Mika let out a snort. “If you are saying that my brother is not smart enough to blow up my late father, you may be right. He must have had help, then.”

  Mander asked, “What is the situation in your tower?”

  “Uncomfortable,” said Mika. “And if it is true Zonnos is an addict, I can see much of that now in his behavior. He has put a bounty on your heads, regardless of your innocence. Zonnos is looking for someone to be blamed for this, so he can establish himself as the full heir to the Anjiliac clan. A change in leadership often leads to problems for the lesser siblings. I fled here soon after the … incident … with my father, to meet with my CSA contact.” He waved a stubby-fingered arm at Angela Krin.

  “Can you get us offplanet?” Reen asked the woman.

  “I can,” said Angela.

  “My own resources are limited,” added Mika. “All the more so if my brother is truly under the influence of spice and involved in the smuggling. But I have enough sway to make sure you have a safe ship and a trustworthy pilot. Zonnos is not the only one with a couple of ships that exist off the official books.”

  “The CSA maintains a safehouse near here,” said Angela, and Mika was startled at the news. Both things made sense, Mander thought. The CSA should have resources on the Smugglers’ Moon. And Mika would not think that they were there. She continued, not noticing Mika’s reaction, “We can hide there until you make arrangements.”

  With that the group quit the Headache Bar. They had to avoid what passed for public transportation on the planet, and to reach the safehouse plunged still deeper beneath the concrete skin of the world. Even Mika seemed nervous now, clearly in unfamiliar terrain. If Angela was equally unfamiliar with the territory, she betrayed no sign, instead quietly pointing out the new direction at each crossing.

  Up ahead, they could hear low growls.

  Angela froze for a moment, and then said, “Vrblthers. We can loop back and find another way.”

  Then there came a high-pitched, all-too-human screech, and Mander was suddenly moving toward it. Toward the growls.

  A pack of lizard-like bipeds had surrounded a pile of trash long since brought down from the towers, scavenged, and then abandoned. The vrblthers had leathery hides the color of overly ripe fruit, and short, curled horns perched above underslung, fanged jaws. Their prey, a humanoid child, was scrabbling backward up the slope of loose trash. The vrblthers stalked forward on thick-knuckled claws.

  Mander cut through two of the beasts from behind before they even knew he was there. He moved up the loose hillside of trash to the child and spun about, facing the rest of the pack. The loss of two of their members did nothing to deter the vrblthers, and they closed in on their new target.

  Mander brought his blade up hard beneath the chin of the leading attacker, bisecting it from its chest to the top of its sloped forehead. The beast dropped without time to howl from the damage, but it was replaced immediately by two more. A sweeping, lateral blow caught both of these in their slavering jaws, and the Jedi could feel the trash beneath his feet give way. Rather than try to stop it, he rode the small avalanche of detritus down, taking three more of the beasts out in the process. Vrblther parts joined the other discards on the pile.

  Now blasterfire sizzled the air around him as Reen, Angela, and Eddey caught up with him, a weaponless Mika alongside them. The newcomers peppered the flanks of the surviving pack. These wheeled on their new assailants, but to no good end. One broke from the rest of the pack and hurled itself at Mika. The small Hutt brought his hands up before him in what Mander thought was a feeble attempt to ward off the blow. Instead the creature yelped as it was flung backward, away from the Hutt, as if it had struck an invisible wall. The Hutt fell back behind the protection of the others, and Mander spun around and decapitated a beast that was trying to drag off the child while its fellows were otherwise occupied.

  With another volley from the group’s blasters, the entire pack was dead. Mander deactivated his lightsaber and climbed back up the trash pile, where the would-be prey was curled and weeping.

  It was a child, definitely, but the species was unknown to him. Its skin was the pale yellow of guinchin fruit, and a ring of small protrusions, proto-horns, formed a lopsided ring along one side of its head. It was dressed in rags that at one time long before may have had a color.

  “Come on,” said Mander, “I won’t hurt you.” He held out his hand.

  The child looked up, its luminous eyes weeping pale green tears, and reached out a slender hand to take Mander’s. The pair climbed down the trash heap. The child looked up at the others in wonder, but visibly shrank away from the Hutt.

  “Amazing,” said the Hutt. “I thought they were all dead.”

  “What is he?” asked Angela.

 
“Evocii,” said the Hutt. “They once lived on Nal Hutta, and were exported to Nar Shaddaa to help build the Smugglers’ Moon. They were never very hardy. I thought they had proved nonviable.”

  Reen gave Mander a hard look, but before she could say anything, Eddey said, “He’s not alone.”

  At the other entrance there were more of the Evocii, older and taller but still similar to the child. They were dressed in a tattered collection of rags and battle armor, and carried what Mander hoped were inoperative blasters.

  Mander raised both hands to show that he bore no weapons or ill will, but the child burst loose from them and ran to the adults. He buried his head in the robes of one of the females and unleashed a torrent of what Mander could only identify as a creole of Huttese and Basic.

  The lead Evocii strode forward, shot a withering glance at the Hutt, but bowed to Mander. The Jedi returned his bow, but when he straightened, all but the leader had vanished back into the darkness of the tunnels. The leader nodded at him, and then retreated as well.

  Mika’s satchel made the sound of a baby chick in distress. The Hutt fumbled at the satchel and pulled out a holographic comlink. He frowned at the winking telltale light of an incoming message.

  “I should take this,” he said. “The rest of you might not want to be seen.”

  Reen and the others took a few steps back, allowing the darkness of their surroundings to cloak them. Mander took a step back as well, but stayed close enough to see the hololink clearly.

  The head and shoulders of the dented H-3PO unit appeared in the radiance of the beam. “Kindly Mika, I hope that you are safe,” said the droid. “Zonnos has called for your return, and the destruction of all who stand with you. Crafty Vago has blunted the worst of his rage, but your brother has become more and more irrational with each passing hour. Vago thinks that it may be to your advantage to be somewhere else for a while. A shuttle to the family estates on Nal Hutta is waiting at dock Q2214 on level twenty-two. The pilot is expecting you.” There was some disturbance behind the droid. It turned and the connection was abruptly severed.