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The Greatest Sith... That
Never Lived
Posted by: Darth Danno
05.02.07 12:01am
Previously:
CHAPTER XVII: A THIRD SITH?
The Jedi found the cantina quite
easily, but as it had closed just a few hours earlier, they had
to bide their time perusing the wares of the nearby vendors and
merchants until early afternoon when it re-opened for business
once again. From under an awning, Dychud watched the Besialisk
approach the structure, unlock the door, and go inside. The Jedi
Master glanced around, making sure no one was tailing him, and
then motioned for his companions to head toward the cantina.
Even though it wasn’t scheduled to open for another hour,
the door was unlocked. Cautiously, they entered.
Compared to the outside, the
interior was a drastic change in every way. The brightness and
heat were gone, replaced by the darkness and artificial coolness
of the cantina. One could still smell the remains of some of
last night’s stimulants lingering in the air. Each and every
booth was vacant, and the Besialisk was nowhere to be seen. The
Jedi waited a few moments before venturing further inside, letting
their eyes adjust to the gloom. Then, a voice rang out from some
back room.
“Have a seat at the bar,
Masters Jedi.”
Each one slowly reached for their
lightsaber, preparing themselves for the battle to come. Only
relaxing once they saw the Besialisk stroll out from behind a
curtain and into the Cantina proper.
“I saw you all standing
around as I was coming in.” Ferhen said as he meandered
behind the bar. “Your robes are somewhat distinctive, to
say the least. On this world, to survive, one has to see everything
and everybody at all times, yet not let them know they’ve
been seen, if you know what I mean?”
“Quite.” Dychud replied
as he and the others took seats around the bar.
“May I offer anyone a drink?”
Ughh asked. “Quite a hot day out there.”
The Jedi declined, but the Besialisk
insisted, saying it was the least he could do for comrades of
his departed friend. Glasses of Jawa Juice were served all around.
“Master Hant was a good
friend,” Ferhen began. “He will be missed. I heard
rumors about what actually happ…”
Dychud touched one of the Besialisk’s
hands in supplication. “There was nothing you could have
done.”
“I somehow feel responsible.”
Ughh sniffed. “It was me who brought them here.”
Dychud shook his head sympathetically.
“We don’t believe you had anything to do with either
of their deaths, we just need to know if you have any information
about the Sith or the holocron.”
Fehren scratched his chin with
one of his four large hands. “I never had, nor wanted to
have, any contact with the Sith, so I can’t help you there.
The holocron I got from a Devaronian local. Used it to pay off
his sizeable bar bill. I sometimes take items of interest in
lieu of money, especially when they have no money. Maybe I can
sell or hock…”
“Any idea where this…Devaronian
got the holocron?” Dychud inquired.
“He and his partner, a Snivvian
named…oh, I’m so bad with names. Anyway, with those
two, if it was bad news, they were either trying to get their
hands into it, already had their hands in it, or…”
Not wanting to drag this out
any longer than they had to, Dychud interrupted once again. “Do
you know where we might locate these two…upstanding citizens?”
Ughh shook his head negatively.
“I heard the Snivvian died in some botched robbery attempt
somewhere around here. The Devaronian went into hiding until
the heat is off, and I don’t mean the suns.” Then the
bar owner leaned in close to the Jedi. “You don’t think
this whole thing was a set up, do you?”
Dychud shrugged. “Possibly.
Have you heard or seen anything else that may be of use to us?”
“It was all everyone could
talk about for a few days. Then it became old news and was forgotten,
until...”
“What happened?” Issew
questioned.
“I don’t remember exactly
when it was, but I do know I had just opened for business, so
the place wasn’t packed…yet. A few regulars had come
in to get an early start on the days inebriation, or to escape
the heat. It didn’t matter to me, as long as their money
was good.” The Besialisk laughed at his own small joke.
“Go on.” Beyorel prodded.
“Well, someone brought up
the Jedi’s death and the attack, and a Jawa named Ooziz,
who comes in once in awhile, overheard the talk and joined in
the conversation. Fortunately, they were all sitting here at
the bar, and not in one of the booths, otherwise I probably never
would have heard anything. Anyone for a refill?”
“No, thank you.” Dychud
replied. “Please continue.”
“Ooziz said that on the
same day Master Hant was attacked, he was making his rounds near
the docking bays, looking for anything he could salvage for resale,
when he spied two figures standing near one of the bay doors.
One appeared to be picking the lock, while the other, a figure
in black robes with a hood up covering his face, stood guard.
The Jawa didn’t know weather to keep on walking, or turn
around and go back the way he came. So he split the difference
and just stopped in his tracks.”
“Then what?” Issew
asked.
“The guy in the robes kept
scanning the walkway, and it wasn’t long before he spied
Ooziz standing there watching them. The black-clad figure simply
lifted his hand, and the next thing the Jawa knew, he felt an
invisible force pick him up and hurl him into a wall some meters
back. The blow must have knocked him out for a short time, because
when he came to, the robed figure was nowhere to be seen, and
he caught just a fleeting glimpse of his companion disappearing
around a far corner.”
“This companion,” Dychud
wanted to know, “Did the Jawa get a good look at him?”
“Ooziz couldn’t tell
WHO it was, but he was quite certain WHAT it was, having dealt
with their kind all his life.”
“Their kind?” Beyorel
asked quizzically.
“Sure!” Ferhen responded
with confidence. “If there’s one thing Jawas know…is
droids.”
Darth Danno
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