Fiction
Archive... Guardian Planesdrifter |
The Fugitive Planesdrifter
didn’t like serving under Caer by any means, but at least this time he
was somewhat compensated by the opportunity to inflict a great deal of
pain. On Caer’s cue, Planesdrifter moved the intensity of the
vibroknife up to maximum power and violently wrenched the knife up
Ginn’s arm, splitting bone apart. Ginn’s screams were like nothing
Planesdrifter thought anyone capable of. He switched the vibroknife
intensity back down to normal levels but still held the knife rooted in
the bone of Ginn’s arm. Ginn at this point was taking gasping breaths
and weeping freely. Caer
leant forward and spoke, his voice as ice. “I trust I need not do that
again. Where did Sirrus Aeron go and what is his final destination?” Ginn
seemed much more willing to help them after that. He babbled out the
truth whilst Caer sat back in the chair, his face impassive. For his own
part, Planesdrifter tried to keep his surprise off his face. It seemed
that Sirrus Aeron had indeed arrived in this world only yesterday—and
was, in fact, still here. Ginn even knew the address. But he wasn’t to
stay for long. In fact he would be meeting two contacts and leaving with
them—where he didn’t know. But since he did arrange the meet, Ginn
could tell them the password that Aeron would be expecting. Caer
made Ginn repeated everything he had said, and Ginn eagerly complied and
swore it was the truth. Caer nodded once then in one smooth motion
brought his hand out from under the table holding a blaster pistol.
Planesdrifter cursed and quickly leapt back, yanking out the vibroknife
as he did so, as Caer fired directly into Jykos Ginn’s face. Then he
stood up, holstered his blaster and moved back to his koussh. “Move,
Jedi. We haven’t much time,” he ordered Planesdrifter curtly. Caer
never referred to Planesdrifter by his codename; neither would he call
him by his rank of Acolyte, as if Caer refused to acknowledge his
status. He only referred to him as ‘Jedi’, spitting out the name as
if it poisoned his tongue and was an insult. Planesdrifter’s
hatred of the man again went up a notch. He took one last look at the
faceless corpse on the floor, wishing that it was Caer, then cleaned his
vibroknife and put on his own koussh. Then he opened the door,
stepped over Naerlm’s dead body and followed his superior away from
the alley. *
* * Aeron’s
home was in a no better neighbourhood than Ginn’s had been. He
occupied a dingy third floor flat in a near-derelict building.
Planesdrifter stood motionless in the total darkness of the home just
behind Aeron’s building. It was the location that provided the best
view of Caer’s approach to the north and also nicely covered the fire
escape to the west as well. As it happened, the home was occupied but
the tenant’s protests had been quickly silenced. One could not voice
protests without a tongue, after all. Below
him, Planesdrifter saw Caer move cautiously to the main building lobby
with as much speed as he dared and speak into the rusty intercom. Caer
stood there for a while, then opened the door and moved inside.
Planesdrifter still didn’t breath easy—if the password was wrong and
Ginn and tricked them then Caer had just walked into a trap and an
ambush. But he had insisted on making the drop alone, with Planesdrifter
taking the role of lookout. Caer didn’t trust him at his back in a
real fight, it seemed. Stupid
fool. It wasn’t that Planesdrifter cared for Caer’s personal safety
at all—he still loathed the man. But if the mission failed because of
the Secpol’s misguided pride…Planesdrifter would not fail on
his first House mission, so help the wretched lightspawn who got in his
way. Suddenly
Planesdrifter sensed something in the street below him and averted his
eyes to scrutiny the darkness. Black movement across the street caught
his eye. Shadows moved towards Aeron’s building, pausing at the front
door, then the shape spilt in two as one half slipped in the front
whilst the other crept around to the side of the building, heading for
the fire escape. Planesdrifter
had no clue who, or even what, they were but he knew enough to know that
it was no social call they were making. But the Darkness had given him
enough warning. By the time the second shadow had reached turned the
corner Planesdrifter had already turned from the window and raced as
silently as he could manage to the first floor of Aeron’s building.
The other prime reason for choosing his lookout spot was that it was
connected to Aeron’s building by means of a crumbing first floor
landing above ground level, which the fire escape had to cross. Which
meant that when the shadow had climbed the metal stairs and reached the
landing, he didn’t even notice the steel knife slithering out of the
darkness from the shadows behind him. The most he knew of
Planesdrifter’s presence was the icy cold touch of steel across his
skin, then a quick, burning pain and a slow warmth creeping down his
neck and then crawling down his body… Planesdrifter
caught the body as it fell and immediately dragged it quietly back into
the shadows. None had seen the incident and those who had did not posses
the foolishness to dare to report it. Anyone who could ambush a man as
easily as that would certainly not appreciate being interrupted by the
police, and might voice their protests in a rather unpleasant manner. A
quick search of the man’s body revealed nothing incriminating; a
nameless human with no identification and typical local garments under
his koussh. He was armed with a vibroknife and a heavy blaster
pistol. Wasting no time, Planesdrifter leapt up the fire escape two at a
time, trying to move with a mix of urgency and caution. Sirrus Aeron was
by all accounts a master marksman and hand-to-hand specialist both. Caer
would be hard-pressed to fight alone against this foe and utterly
outmatched if there was a second foe sneaking up the main entrance
behind him. With
every step, Planesdrifter grew more unnerved. The Dark Side was with him
and a heavy presence in his mind warned him of imminent danger. If he
arrived too late Caer would be ambushed and slain and the mission would
fail. Planesdrifter was determined not to fail. Planesdrifter
tried the door handle at the top of the stairs and found that it was
locked. He hesitated for a split second before unholstering his blaster.
The noise would alert everyone to his presence, but it couldn’t be
helped and might disrupt the ambush. He stepped back, fired three shots
in rapid succession into the door and kicked it open. Immediately he
dived through to the floor after it, blaster held out before him, eyes
scanning for targets. No-one
opened fire on him but he could hear footsteps just outside the door;
two pairs of them. There was no time for thought, only instinct. In one
smooth motion he reached down to his belt, unclipped a stun grenade set
for minimum fuse and lobbed it outside the door and bounced down the
hallway. There was a blue flash—the signal of the electro-magnetic
pulse that would freeze up every nerve of anybody in the limited blast
radius, then Planesdrifter leapt up to follow it and catch the man who
would undoubtedly be lying unconscious on the floor, waiting to turn the
tables on Caer. He
rounded the corner—and collided with another body coming into the
room. The young acolyte felt a hand at his chest, then a fierce
explosion of burning pain that dropped him to the floor. Planesdrifter
could hardly breathe, it felt like there was an inferno in his lungs and
the very air was poisonous. As
he sank down to the floor, that part of his mind that wasn’t crippled
with pain was amazed that there was anyone standing in the hallway at
all, when they should have been lying on the floor convulsing with the
electromagnetic affects of the stun grenade. It was impossible that
Planesdrifter had missed with the grenade—but how did the man avoid
the blast? The acolyte looked up and saw cruel blue eyes as the stranger
stepped over his prone body and disappeared down the stairwell outside. Caer
appeared a moment later, blaster in hand, rage and fury in his eyes. He
obviously blamed Planesdrifter for ruining the trap. Despite the
Jedi’s attempts to save the Secpol Officer, Caer still found it in his
self to blame him for the quarry’s escape. Planesdrifter would have
faced Caer down then and there but it took all his might just to breathe
and sit up. He put a tentative hand to his chest but to his surprise
felt no wound and no blood. He thought that Aeron must have hit a
pressure point. And
then he had no more time for thinking as a volley of blaster fire flew
into the hallway. Planesdrifter fell forward to the ground and Caer spun
around firing as he did so. The first mysterious agent Planesdrifter had
spotted at the door had arrived and was firing at them from the
darkness. Caer shot blindly into the dark as he raced for the cover of
an interjecting wall but Planesdrifter’s eyes could see clearly into
the dark. He raised his blaster and fired three times. The blaster bolts
from the darkness abruptly halted. For
a handful of moments they said nothing but glared at each other.
Planesdrifter had never felt such blind hatred towards someone before.
All it would take was one shot. One bolt. No-one would ever know; they
would assume that Lt. Celab Caer had been killed in the firefight…no-one
need ever know… No.
They would know. They were Dark Jedi and privy to all secrets thoughts
in his mind. They would know, and Planesdrifter would stand trial for
mutiny—and the penalty was death. There would be no chance of escape.
Perhaps they would send a fresh young acolyte out after him…perhaps
one of his House members, maybe even Lecryo Skelrodran in a grim repeat
of their encounter on Yridia IX? The dour irony of that almost brought a
cynical smile to Planesdrifter but the grinding pain in his chest and
his latent anger at Caer stopped him. Finally
Caer spoke in a dark, low growl. “Search his rooms.” He
turned on his heel and left the hallway towards the staircase. But
Sirrus Aeron would be gone by now, vanishing into the acid fog of the
wretched planet. He was lost for good, unless they could find some clue
in the apartment. Planesdrifter
hauled himself up with some difficulty and set about searching the dingy
flat for some indication where Aeron would have gone. It didn’t take
long as the apartment was startlingly sparse; Aeron obviously hadn’t
been staying here long and likely would have moved on soon enough. Of
course, he hadn’t taken much with him in the first place when he flew
off in his Assault Gunboat, or else his wingmen would have been
suspicious. Caer and Planesdrifter had recovered the starfighter almost
immediately; of course it would draw far too much attention to Aeron as
he moved from system to system, so he had abandoned it. It had yielded
few clues though. The
Acolyte stepped into what must have served as Aeron’s bedroom and
abruptly halted. For a long while, Planesdrifter stood unmoving in shock
as he gazed upon the cylindrical object lying on the floor of the room.
Cautiously, he moved across the room, floorboards creaking as he did so,
and knelt down at its side. With almost spiritual reverence he reached
out and picked it up, hardly daring to believe what it signified, not
wanting to believe. It
was a lightsaber. Which meant that Sirrus Aeron was more than a rogue
TIE Captain on the run. He was a Dark Jedi. *
* * The
screen on the private comm-booth flickered and jumped to life. The
impassive face of Sith Bloodfyre stared down at Planesdrifter. Although
the Acolyte didn’t feel fear exactly, he did not look forward to the
coming conversation. “Much
has transgressed since my last report, Master,” said Planesdrifter
immediately. “We have trailed Aeron to this planet—Haalsbund,” he
added belatedly, “and located his residence.” He
gave his Quaestor a brief account of what has transpired before adding,
“We found a file of classified documents in his room sir. It appears
that Aeron is a traitor, and was planning to escape to the New Republic
with these secrets.” There
was a pause while he gathered his courage. “Sir…I found a lightsaber
in Aeron’s quarters. Its unlikely that he could have stolen it from a
Jedi before leaving the EH and it would explain how he was able to
resist the effects of my stun grenade and down me by his mere
touch…sir, Sirrus Aeron is a Dark Jedi Knight.” Bloodfyre
appeared not to react and said nothing for a handful of heartbeats.
“So it appears. Do you have anything else to add?” Planesdrifter
was amazed that his Quaestor didn’t seem to understand the dilemma he
faced. “Master, he is above me in skill and power; I cannot face him
down. I need—” Bloodfyre’s
expression never changed but his eyes froze in a chill gaze of such
wrath and contempt such that Planesdrifter had never seen before.
Despite the lightyears of space between the two, he took an involuntary
step backwards and bumped into the door of the booth behind him.
Bloodfyre spoke in a menacing whisper that nonetheless conveyed the full
extent of his rage. “Are
you afraid, Acolyte Planesdrifter? Do you fear him and his power?” Planesdrifter
heard himself speak. “No, my master.” “House
Gladius has no place for cowards or weaklings, Planesdrifter. I do not
believe that you are a coward or a weakling. Your mission goals remain
the same. A member of Gladius always returns in triumph—or he does not
return at all,” Bloodfyre added sinisterly before killing the
connection. The screen flickered and went out as light returned to the
private booth. Planesdrifter
sat in silence for a few more minutes to steady himself, before he stood
up. The unfamiliar tap of Aeron’s lightsaber against his thigh was a
constant reminder of the foe he faced. Sith Bloodfyre had given him an
ultimatum to succeed or die trying. Leaving the comm-booth,
Planesdrifter mentally went over his options. On
reflection, he did, at least, hold one major advantage: he had not told
Lt. Caer about his discovery. It was Planesdrifter’s once ace over his
superior, and damned if he was going to give it away. *
* * Sith
Bloodfyre turned away from the comm-screen, his false fury gone and
replaced with a calm, introspective look. He turned to face his
uniformed comrade. “So
our suspicions have been correct. The traitor seeks sanctuary in
Republic space,” his companion stated crisply. “A full squadron of
Intelligence Gunboats will be directed to the area immediately. Will you
continue to keep the Acolyte on the Target’s trail?” Sith
thought for a moment before replying, “Yes. Caer is still with him,
and the Acolyte must be tested. Keep the Gunboats as a reserve but give
them orders not to interfere unless the pair of them fail in
apprehending Aeron.” The
Intelligence Director nodded. “Aeron will not escape from the
Haalsbund system.” Then he added, “This is a dangerous venture,” a
touch of unease evident in his voice. “I have said before that I do
not consider it wise to send an inexperienced Jedi-in-training after a
Dark Jedi Knight.” He paused. “I would rather not have any Jedi on
this case at all.” Sith
instantly grasped the unspoken meaning behind the Director’s comment.
“He is too weak to be ambitious and, fresh from the Academy, is loyal
to our cause,” Sith replied laconically. “It is always power which
drives men to treason and duplicity. Power and greed. Fear not, we hold
Acolyte Planesdrifter’s faith yet.” “But
he is cunning and realistic. It is my experience that Jedi are, and
always have been, unreliable,” replied the Intelligence Director. “Yet
you need us.” “Yes.”
Silence. “But you are dangerous.” Sith
laughed briefly, cynically and without humour. “That is the nature of
the Dark Side.” *
* * The
string of numbers, letters and symbols that they had discovered in
Aeron’s flat were in fact co-ordinates on a map. Though it may have
been a code, since Aeron was soon to leave this place it was more likely
that those numbers held the secret where Aeron would be picked up by the
NRI agents—it was now obvious who the nameless humans were. Granted,
Aeron might try to escape the planet through normal means of transport
and be picked up by the NRI elsewhere, but Caer and Planesdrifter were
fortunate in that the acid storm was in full swing and as was standard
regulation all starports on the planet had been closed. Aeron would not
want to remain on a planet where EH agents were so close on his trail,
and since he was likely being taken to the pick-up point anyways—why
else would the NRI agents have come to his flat?—Caer bet that Aeron
would stick to the plan and try to get there before his pursuers did. If
nothing else, Planesdrifter had to admit (albeit grudgingly) that Caer
was a highly capable investigator, good at his work. What infuriated him
was the condescending manner in which the Secpol officer explained all
this to him. The
environment where the pickup was meant to take place didn’t help to
improve Planesdrifter’s mood either. The co-ordinates led the pair
deep underground into the drainage system that catered away the acid
that fell onto the city streets. Great canals had been built out of
material specially designed to withstand years of the acid’s corroding
potency; the efficient drainage system was perhaps this world’s
greatest achievement. Still, it was hardly perfect and every so often a
block of buildings would collapse, simply fall into the earth as acid
rivers had been diverted from the system, seeped into the nearby
foundations and eaten away at them until they collapsed. The
pair were now walking across one of the access walkways over the acid
river, in full koussh gear including masks and respirator. But
even that couldn’t keep the acrid stench of the acid at bay and the
smell crept into their nostrils. Through the grilling in the walkway,
Planesdrifter could see the acid river, one of the main branches that
collected all the other tributaries in the drainage system. It ran
strong and fresh with the storm still brewing on the surface. Neither
of them knew what to expect to find when they got to the co-ordinates.
With luck, they would have arrived before Aeron did, whereupon they
would be the given the chance to act first—possibly replace the NRI
agents who would pick him up. Except that privately Planesdrifter knew
that Aeron would instantly sense the different Force-signatures on the
pickup ship—especially Planesdrifter’s—and he would know that the
game would be up. But he wasn’t about to reveal to Caer that he knew
Aeron was a Jedi. What better plan did they have? What could they
possibly hope to do? They
had just about arrived at the coordinates. From around the corner a low
humming and soft crackling sound could be heard. They halted briefly,
preparing themselves for whatever might be around the tunnel.
Planesdrifter furtively patted the bulge underneath his koussh on
his right hip where his blaster was and the smaller bulge on his left
where Aeron’s lightsaber hung. Caer still hadn’t noticed it. Then
they turned the corner. The
walkway continued over the river before coming to an abrupt halt with a
railing at the end. Beyond that all the major branches converged into a
giant acid lake that no doubt continued out beyond the city limit and
into the great wasteland, towards a man-made acid sea where it was
dumped. And hovering on repulsorlifts in the middle of the lake, shields
crackling as they kept the searing acid away from the hull of the ship,
was a New Republic Intelligence shuttle. They had made it there first,
before Aeron. All
this was taken in in an instant. Caer moved continuously around the
corner and rapidly & purposely towards the shuttle. Planesdrifter
followed at his heels and wondered what the NRI reaction would be. He
tried to keep his hand away from his blaster holster as he approached. Caer
waved his arm at them as they approached, gesturing at them to begin
their engines. A hatch opened up on the roof of the shuttle and a human
woman began to rise into view. Caer quickly spoke before she could say
anything. “It
was an ambush.” The koussh’s voxbox made his voice sound
hollow and tinny. Planesdrifter hoped that it was enough to disguise the
Secpol officer’s voice. “Aeron’s dead. EHI Hunter Squad got there
just before we did; we couldn’t stop them. Start the engines, we have
to move out of here!” Inwardly
Planesdrifter saw what Caer was trying to do, and was again impressed by
his quick thinking. Their thick, heavy koussh cloaks excelled at
obscuring the shape and voice of the body underneath, though of course
one could still tell who it was if they had the time to scrutiny you
close up and long enough. But in a situation like this, the NRI would
likely be on edge and given the apparent urgency of the situation
wouldn’t give the time to do that. Caer was hoping that the two of
them could pass for the two murdered NRI agents who had gone to pick up
Aeron. On reflection there really wasn’t much else they could do and
it was a damn sight safer than impersonating Aeron. With the shuttle
shields raised, they couldn’t just shoot the NRI woman from afar
either. Still he had to privately wonder what on earth was an EHI Hunter
Squad? The
ploy seemed to be working. The woman spoke something unintelligible into
her commlink but took no threatening moves. The upper shield section
disappeared as they approached and Planesdrifter smiled beneath his
mask. Once inside, they could murder the NRI agents, simply wait for
Aeron to arrive and then blast him into the acid with the shuttle laser
cannons. If the Jedi Knight didn’t sense their presence first,
anyways. But
in the next moment, Planesdrifter felt a powerful Force presence behind
him, and knew in that instant that they had been outwitted. Aeron had
gotten there before they had, but instead had waited for them to
overtake him and then discreetly followed them from afar. The
game was up, and chaos was about to break loose. His
Force-sense had given him a split-second warning and Planesdrifter took
it. He spun around and dived to the floor, blaster in hand ready to fire
when the telekinetic Force wave hit him. It was like nothing he had felt
before; not so much like being punched but rather like stunning pain
felt throughout his entire body as if he had run flat into a stone wall.
His bones pressed against each other and the air was knocked out of him
as he toppled over and off the walkway. Panic almost seized him and he
reached out with his right hand to grab the edge of the walkway,
dropping his blaster into the hissing acid below him. There was a small
splash as it disappeared into the brown flow. Gasping
for breath, right hand clenched precariously on the edge of the walkway,
Planesdrifter looked up to see Caer knocked down to the floor as Aeron
advanced rapidly upon him. His mask was off so the NRI agents inside the
shuttle could identify him, and Planesdrifter guessed that he must have
been using the Force to ward off the lethal fumes of the river. The
shuttle had its shields up again but its engines were still warming up,
ready for a quick getaway. Aeron
approached, grim glee upon his face as he stabbed out with two fingers
and then gestured upwards. Caer abruptly let out a muffled groan of
anguish as his back arched and he was raised into the air. He grasped as
his neck, fingers scrabbling at the latches of his mask as if to tear it
off; not that it would have made any real difference in the end since
Caer wasn’t similarly endowed with Force-abilities and without his
mask he would soon succumb to the acidic vapours. Planesdrifter heard a
sickening crack as one of Caer’s bones snapped. The NRI woman was at
the top of the shuttle, blaster in hand, shouting at Aeron to quit
stalling and get over to the ship. The shield was lowered again. The
shuttle laser cannons were aimed at the walkway. Caer’s actions grew
more frantic and the voxbox made his screams sound all the more hideous
and inhuman. Aeron’s face was a blaze of spite and anger, but the
Acolyte could see that he planned to end it soon. Now
was the time. No-one was paying him any attention. It was now or never. Planesdrifter
reached his left arm down to grasp the lightsaber at his side and pulled
it free. In one smooth motion he switched it on, hoping he didn’t cut
off his legs, and for a moment the bright yellow blade dazzled him. But
only for a moment; then he swung it up through the metal grilling of the
walkway, slashing through supports and dropping it into the raging river
beneath it. The
instant the yellow blade had sprung into life with the distinctive snap-hiss
of a lightsaber, virtually everyone else stopped in astonishment.
Planesdrifter saw the surprise and belated understanding in Aeron’s
eyes as he recognized his own lightsaber just before the walkway fell
away, Caer dropped to the floor and both of them lost their footing and
tumbled down towards the river. But
Aeron was a Jedi. He had realized the danger as soon as he had seen the
blade and was already moving towards the waiting shuttle. As he fell, he
reached up and clasped the edge of the walkway with both hands, barely
stopping himself from falling. Lt. Caer’s flailing body could find no
similar hold and he vanished into the river. In the next instant Aeron
had pulled himself up to the edge and jumped for all he could
with the Force, landing with a hard thud on the shuttle hull. Planesdrifter
spared hardly a second thought for Caer’s body. The current of the
river carried him out into the acid lake, far, far away. |