Джон Миллер: Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith: Sentinel

Now the facility served as the public home for the uvak mounts used in rake-riding — those few uvak who survived their bouts in that violent sport, anyway. Sith citizens and Keshiri alike came to marvel at the mighty beasts, being pampered and prepared for their matches at the nearby Korsinata.

Lately, though, they had come to see something else. Or, rather, someone.

Ori found her mother where she expected to find her — mucking out the uvak stalls. Jelph had been exactly right: Grand Lord Venn had made a public spectacle out of Candra Kitai’s fall from power. Under the watchful eyes of the burly night guard, the deposed High Lord continued the work that she’d done all day for the viewing amusement of the passersby. Still wearing her ceremonial gown from Donellan’s Day, now soiled and frayed, Candra stood on tiptoes, delicately relocating foul deposits with a large shovel.

Looking down from her perch on the roof of the shelter, Ori waited until the guard was right beneath her. Then she leapt downward, kicking out to knock the sentry senseless. Kneeling, she grabbed the man’s lightsaber and dragged him into the stall behind the grounded uvak.

Eyes watering from the stench, Candra looked up at her daughter with a tired expression. «You came back.»

«Yes.»

«It’s been weeks and weeks.»

«More like two,» Ori said, studying her mother. Such a short time since the royal fête, and she could barely recognize the woman. The gray hair always carefully hidden by the Keshiri beauticians was out in straggly force now. Candra stank of every vile thing she’d encountered in her work. Her hands, however, remained free from calluses. Ori could see why as Candra robotically returned to her work, gingerly holding the shovel and making little headway.

«They keep feeding them slop that makes them ill,» Candra groaned. «I know they’re doing it on purpose.»

«You’ll never get this job done shoveling that way,» Ori said, springing up and seizing the tool. Looking at it for a moment, she suddenly remembered she was not a farmer and threw it aside. «You’ve been here all this time?»

Candra feebly pointed to the empty stall across the walk. «They let me sleep over there sometimes.» Wearily, she looked up at Ori. «You look tired, dear. Have you rested?»

Ori snorted. She’d run all the previous night and day from Jelph’s farm after discovering his secret in the shed, finally reaching Tahv an hour before. Now, at last, she was here — and she had something to trade. What was he? Where was he from? republic fleet systems, the old characters had said. The Republic, she remembered from her studies, was the tool of the Jedi — the puppet body through which the Jedi Knights ruled the weaklings of the galaxy.

It was definitely information worth something to someone. But who?

«I’m going to get you out of here,» she told her mother. «I can’t just leave,» Candra said. «They’ll find us, wherever we go — and we’ll both end up right back here.»

Looking quickly back outside the stall, Ori pulled the older woman into the shadows. «I’m not going to break you out. I’ve… discovered something. Something that will restore us — restore you. You have to get me in to see the High Lords.»

Candra looked at her, bewildered, for a long moment before returning her eyes guiltily to the shovel. «I’d better get back to work, before someone else comes to check on—»

Ori grabbed her mother’s wrists before she could move. «Mother, I need to know who to talk to!»

Shaking her head, Candra fought to evade her daughter’s stare. «No, Ori. I don’t know what you think you’ve found, but nothing will make a difference. We’ve lost.»

« This will make a difference!» Ori had no doubt about that. Quickly she explained. There was another starship on Kesh, one in addition to Omen . A new one, hidden on a farm beside the Marisota River. Ori’s whisper grew louder with excitement. «This isn’t just about our family, Mother! It’s about reuniting the Tribe with the Sith!»

Candra simply stared at her, unbelieving. «You’ve gone mad. You’ve made this story up, to try to get back in—»

Hearing the guard begin to stir, Ori looked frantically at Candra. «You know the politics. I need to know what to do. Who can I go to?»

At the word politics, Candra’s eyes seemed to focus. Looking back mournfully at the shovel, she spoke in low tones. Three of the High Lords were newly appointed stooges of the Grand Lord, she said. But that left four others who might listen — two apiece from the former Red and Gold factions. They formed the balance of political power, and might well reward the Kitai family for bringing them the news first.

«If this is for real, you have to get them down there, to see it for themselves,» Candra said. «Send them messages through Gadin Badolfa, the architect. He sees them all, and I still trust him. Don’t tell them exactly what you’ve found — that way, they’re not compromised for coming to meet you.»

Ori ruminated. The much-demanded Badolfa was highly placed in Sith society, as well connected a figure as one outside the hierarchy could be. The High Lords might not believe the invitations were legitimate, even coming through a trusted family friend like Badolfa— but there wasn’t much choice.

She dragged the guard’s body back out of the stall. She’d passed a nice trough earlier that would make a good temporary home for him; the other guards would assume he was drunk on duty. But she’d keep the lightsaber. It had only been a day since the Luzo brothers had taken hers, but it felt good to have one in her hand again. «Mother, are you sure you don’t want to come with me?»

Leaning on the handle of the shovel, Candra looked long and hard at her daughter. «No, this is the place for me right now. I’d only slow you down.» She looked down at the floor of the stall and grimaced. «And if this plan of yours doesn’t work, don’t trouble yourself for me here. I don’t expect to be around much longer anyway.»

Hate: pure, and oppressive. Tahv was a monument to it. Jelph felt it in every alley, at every crossroads. The dark side of the Force permeated this place, as nowhere he had ever visited.

Many times while growing up on Toprawa, Jelph had thought he was going insane. He was beset with constant headaches; each waking moment took a toll on him. Only later did he realize that the cause had been his developing Force sensitivity, responding to the psychic scars Exar Kun and his kind had wrought on the world, years before.

But their evil was past. The psychic acid that coursed through the streets of Tahv was alive. It was every where. The building he hid against was home to an old Sith man violently castigating a Keshiri servant. The window across the way, beyond which a young couple plotted the deaths of their neighbors. The sentry down the walk, whose memories held things beyond Jelph’s worst imaginings.

Jelph tried to shut out the impressions coming at him through the Force without attracting attention to his psychic presence. It was nearly impossible. The Sith happily broadcast their hatred and anger, like wild animals baying at the stars.

Collapsing against a wall, Jelph doubled over. Too late, he realized it hadn’t been a good idea to eat before coming here. He rose, gasping and wiping the sweat from his forehead. How many Sith lived here? he wondered. In Tahv? On Kesh? He’d never known. He was ostensibly a scout for the Jedi, even if they didn’t recognize him as such; he’d wanted to deliver a full report on his eventual return. But every time he’d gone near any population center, he’d fallen ill. Including now, when he most needed his faculties.