Star Wars: Lost Tribe of the Sith #6: Sentinel (2 page)

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 everywhere. 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.

Jelph struggled to collect his thoughts.
Ori
. He needed to find Ori. Her name, her face would be his lifeline. She was why he was here—and why he hadn’t left.

He knew her presence through the Force very well, but had no hope of finding it in the sea of harsh feeling that was Tahv. He wondered how she had ever survived here. Her dark nature had never seemed to him in the same class with the other Sith of Kesh, however much she postured. Ori was proud, not venal; indignant, not hateful. He would have recoiled at her touch, had she been otherwise. He
had
to be right about her.

But what if he was wrong? Was she even here?

Jelph was about to surrender to the despair surrounding him when he saw something that stirred a memory. In one of their first meetings, Ori had bragged about how none of the other Sabers had her knowledge of the city’s aqueduct system. It was her territory to patrol, with her apprentices. Jelph looked up to see one of several towering stone edifices stretching high across the city, bringing down water from the highlands. First constructed by the Keshiri, the system had been improved by the early Sith, who added storage reservoirs dozens of meters off the ground. Ori was right: from up there, all of Tahv could be seen.
And hopefully not felt
, he thought.

He crossed into the shadows beneath a massive aqueduct
support, a pillar nearly the size of a city block. The dark side sensation wasn’t so bad there. Jelph scaled the support, careful to stay constantly in the darkness until he reached the top.

With a wide ledge on either side channeling rushing waters, the stone flume was the size of a city street. Lying prone on the ledge, Jelph marveled that the Keshiri had been able to build, in effect, a river in midair long before the Sith had arrived. What might they have accomplished unmolested? Shaking his head, he reached for his shoulder pouch and removed his macrobinoculars.

Studying the area, he noticed a mountain range looming far to the west. It filled him with dread. He’d heard that the Sith kept their wrecked starship there, in a temple. Would they be able to use materials from his fighter to repair it? Or would one Sith simply try to leave in his fighter, planning to return later for the others? Either way, finding Ori was the important thing now. Turning his attention back to the city below, he set the visor to night vision and scanned the streets leading to the great palace. Would she have gone there, even knowing what Grand Lord Venn had done to her family? Straining to see farther, he dared to stand.

“Ori, where
are
you?”

Suddenly an unseen hand slammed him backward into the coursing water. The macrobinoculars tumbled from his grasp, bouncing once on the ledge and shattering unseen on a marble rooftop far below. Once he touched bottom in the meter-deep canal, Jelph kicked his work boots against the greasy stone floor and launched himself up—only to go flying back again, pushed by the Force. Unable to right himself, he tumbled down the flume.

The current subsided, depositing him in a collecting pool—lower down, but still many meters above the nearby rooftops. He struggled to the shallow end,
unclipped his lightsaber from his belt, and lit it. Blue light flashing in the night, Jelph staggered about in the waist-deep water, looking for his assailant.

“Liar!”

The call had originated up the flume. There Jelph saw the silhouette of a woman launching toward him, brandishing a crimson lightsaber. With both hands on his weapon, he deflected the powerful blow, allowing the force of the woman’s attack to carry her into the reservoir with him. She regained her footing quickly and struck again.

“Liar!” Ori repeated, her normally brown eyes blazing with orange.

“You found it,” Jelph said, bringing his lightsaber against hers in a crackling deadlock. It was all he could think to say.

Ori snarled something inaudible and kicked through the water at him. Jelph sidestepped the move, causing them both to lose footing—and causing Ori to lose her lightsaber to the deeper portion of the basin.

Seeing her splashing about, looking for the weapon, Jelph stepped back to give her room. “You found it,” he said, deactivating his lightsaber. “You found it—and you destroyed the garden. I don’t blame you.”

“I blame you!” Standing again, she jammed her hand in the water, fruitlessly. “You’re a liar. You’re a
Jedi
!”

“I was,” he said. There was no point in denying it. “That was my spaceship you found. Thank the Force you didn’t try to get inside—”

“What? You don’t think I’m
smart
enough?” Dripping, she glared back at him. “I’m just some stupid groundling to you—no better than the Keshiri!”

“That’s not it!”

“We came from space, you know. And we’ll be going back! Is that what you’re afraid of?”

“Yes—among other things.” Suddenly remembering
where he was, Jelph looked nervously above. The reservoir was too high for them to be heard from beneath, but he’d seen aerial sentries earlier. At least he’d found her. “What … what are you doing here?”

Ori stomped around in the water, still unable to find her lightsaber. “I came to Tahv to tell them about you! To warn them!”

“Up here?” He’d expected her to head off to see someone of importance. He studied her as she shook the water from her hair. “Wait. You
did
see someone important. Your mother.”

The Sith woman simply glowered.

“I thought your mother wasn’t in power anymore—”

“That’ll change!” Ori’s face filled with rage. “With what we know now, she’ll be back!
I’ll
be back!”

Jelph stepped backward, as if shoved by the force of her words. “This isn’t like you,” he said. “The person who stayed with me those days didn’t care about that anymore. That person—”

“That wasn’t
me,”
Ori spat. “That was
defeat
!”

“But I liked the other you—and I don’t care what you call it. That was a part of you.”

“That person wasn’t Sith!” She pointed to the stars, peeking out from the clouds high above. “Those belong to us! It’s not just about me. We’ve lived here a thousand years, waiting to get back there. Waiting to get back to what’s
ours
!”

Jelph began to say something, but stopped. “That’s right,” he whispered, calculating. The Tribe was a remnant from the Great Hyperspace War, more than a millennium before. She didn’t know what had followed.

He had a weapon.
History
.

“There are no more Sith,” Jelph said.

“What?”

“There are no more Sith,” he repeated. “They’re extinct.”

“You’re lying,” Ori said, wading toward the edge. “That vessel you were hiding was a warship! Those big … 
prongs
on either side of it. Are you telling me those are for decoration?”

Jelph shook his head. “Yes, we have enemies. And we’ve even fought Sith in living memory. A Jedi, Exar Kun, fell to the dark side and revived the movement. But they were eradicated. Hunted down—all of them.” Carefully, he edged his way toward her. “As far as I know, your people are the only Sith left alive in the galaxy. Feel my thoughts. You’ll know I’m telling the truth.”

Breathing hard, Ori looked back at him. Her anger spent, she hoisted herself onto the edge of the basin and pulled off her boot. Water poured from it. “We’ll rise,” she said, calmer now. “Alone against one Jedi, or a billion. We’ll take our chances.”

“You’ll be crushed by the Jedi.”

“Does anyone even know we exist?” she asked. “If the Sith haven’t been looking for us, I doubt the Jedi have.”

“They’re looking for me,” he said. “And believe me, the Jedi are looking for you.” He didn’t know what had become of all the members of the Covenant since he’d fled—but he knew as long as Lucien Draay lived, someone would be watching for the Sith.

Ori rubbed her forehead, exasperated. “If I can’t save my family—and I can’t save my people—then what am I supposed to do?”

“Supposed to do?” Jelph laughed. “You’re the one that always says you set your own course.” He waded toward her perch on the edge. “Just decide what you want.”

For a long moment, Ori looked at him, standing in the starlit water before her. Finally, she closed her eyes and shook her head. “We’ll never be able to trust each other,” she said.

Jelph looked at her searchingly.

She opened her eyes and glared at him. “I can feel it in your thoughts. You think I’m beautiful. You think you want me. You want to trust me. But you’re looking behind every word I say, trying to find me out, trying to trap me. Because of who I am.”

Jelph looked down at the water. He hadn’t known why he had come all this way when so much was at risk. Not until now. “I think I know who you are, Ori.” He stepped forward and put his hand on her shoulder. She shrank at his touch.

“Jelph,” she said, grabbing at his hand but not pushing it away. “I can’t be the person I was back at the farm. If the only way to be with you is to be
weak
, I just can’t do it.”

“You
can
be strong,” he said, reaching for her and pulling her off the ledge, down into the water before him. Her feet touching the bottom, she looked up at him. “You
are
strong,” he said. “You just don’t have to rule the galaxy.”