Part 4
Carlo’s dream was tortured. The old woman from the village was behind him, saying “Witch!” over and over. Vishla appeared next close enough for him to see her tuck the lightsaber into her sleeve, but he couldn’t move to stop her and he found himself mute so he couldn’t protest the theft. Finally Vishla was replaced with VP16 and Charles who receded down a dark tunnel where he couldn’t follow. He wanted to go to them, but he was stuck in place. Suddenly the dream went dark and Carlo just felt cold.
His eyes popped open. He was laying on the floor of the hotel room, head on a pillow, with his back to the window. He was facing toward the bed where Charles was sleeping soundly. Standing over the bed was a tall dark figure. From somewhere, the figure drew a long knife which had a wicked crimson glow tracing along the edge of the blade.
This was no dream.
The blade was raised high over the boy and Carlo’s sleep-addled brain abruptly cleared with the realization that a strike was about to fall.
Carlo’s instinct took over and he called out, “No!” while he called on the Force to hold the blade in place. The figure's attention was momentarily on trying to push the blade downward but then, he produced a second, similar blade and threw it at Carlo who managed to deflect the blade with his left hand but not without escaping damage. The pain shot through his hand and ruined his concentration freeing the black figure from the Force's grip. As he was about to renew his strike, Carlo leapt forward over the bed and tackled the man to the ground, somehow avoiding the naked blade.
They both jumped to their feet. The man in black brought his blade down at Carlo with a savage slash.
He sidestepped the blow and grabbed the man’s knife hand at the wrist to try to keep the knife at bay. He struck out at the man’s head with his free hand, landing a solid punch.
The man in black staggered back a step, enough for Carlo to press his advantage. Calling on the Force again, he pushed the black clad attacker through the window.
The glass shattered with a loud crash.
Charles was now wide awake and his eyes wide with fright and confusion.
“Go find Horace!” Carlo called out to him. Charles scrambled out of the bed in an instant running for the room’s door.
Carlo swept up the lightsaber from the bedside table and rushed to the shattered window. He was in time to see the black garbed man regaining his feet in the courtyard outside between the hotel rooms and the fathier’s stable.
Carlo stepped out of the window and his attacker adopted a widened stance while simultaneously adjusting the grip on the handle of his knife.
The two combatants faced off, and then started to circle.
Carlo attempted to remain calm. He gripped the saber hilt emitter down but didn’t activate the green laser blade.
“Who are you?” he hissed.
The black dressed man offered no words in reply but swiftly sprang to attack, slashing his blade in a savage arc.
Carlo brought the hilt of the saber up to defend himself, igniting the blade as he did. His counter was on point and the saber blade made contact with the knife. To Carlo’s surprise the saber stopped cold, held back by the glowing knife! The man in black pushed Carlo back a step and then backed up a step himself.
The two began to circle again.
This was the first time that Carlo had seen something resistant to the green blade in his hand. He knew he’d have to adjust his tactics.
The black garbed attacker slashed out with his knife again but Carlo blocked it easily.
Unfortunately it was a faint. With Carlo slightly off balance defending the knife attack, the black figure spun around and landed a backhanded strike to the side of his head.
Carlo stumbled under the weight of the blow and the attacker leapt on him, pushing him roughly to the earth and slashing his left arm.
He grunted in pain, trying to lift the saber in his defense but a quick slash from his opponent's knife sent the saber flying from his grip, the blade deactivating as it flew. Carlo, now flat on his back with his attacker now on top of him, held his hands up to fend off the next assault. He just managed to grab the hand with the knife in both of his hands.
That left the attackers empty hand free to land another strike this time to the side of his face.
Carlo winced under the attack and that gave the man in black an opening to push the knife gripped in both his hands, closer to his chest.
His strength was failing against the weight that the man in black was able to put behind the red-bladed knife. The tip inched closer to his chest, Carlo’s eyes widened. The tip reached his skin and scratched him but he renewed his effort to push back.
The attacker shifted his position to apply more downward force to the blade.
Carlo called on the Force and the saber hilt flew from the ground, crashing into the back of the attackers head. He was stunned momentarily, giving Carlo the chance to roll out from under him.
The man in black recovered and kept the roll going trying to get back to the upper position.
Carlo tried to twist the knife away while they rolled but the man’s grip was iron. He only managed to change the direction of the blade as the roll carried him on top. Using his upper position backed up by a push from the Force, the blade cut deep into the attacker's chest.
With that the fight was over. The man in black didn’t move. Carlo stood finally noticing his rapid breathing and pulse. He stepped back, half expecting the man to jump to his feet to renew his attack. It didn’t happen. The man remained still.
Carlo turned and scooped up the lightsaber and hurried back through the broken window into their room. The boy had left as instructed and the door to the hallway was still wide open.
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He ran into the hall and down to the lobby where he encountered a horrific scene. Charles was standing by the fireplace, tears streaming down his face but no sound escaped him.
Horace was sitting in the center of the floor in a pool of congealing blood cradling a still form, as still as his former attacker.
Horace looked up at Carlo from the face of his son, Cress.
The constable arrived a few minutes later. Horace was still sitting in shocked silence. Carlo explained what had happened and showed the constable to the courtyard.
But the attacker was gone.
*****
Tapping on the passenger window of the speeder woke Glade who’d spent the night rather uncomfortably in the driver’s seat.
The sun was just rising and Glade squinted in the bright light. He wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth. He was kind of surprised that it was morning already.
The tapping started again, this time with a touch more insistence. “What the. . ?” he started to say when he realized it was the man in black.
He unlocked the door and the man wordlessly got inside.
Glade swallowed hard. “Now what? What do we do now?”
The man in black answered by pointing backward to the road leading to Utopia.
He was confused. “We’re going back? Why? Don’t we have to pick up the kid?”
The man in black simply turned his head toward Glade and pointed again at the road.
“Huh?” Glade wasn’t sure what to do. Then he remembered the Colonel’s instructions to do exactly what he was told to do. So he fired up the speeder and spun it around toward Utopia.
*****
Miriam found Carlo and Charles in their hotel room. The constable and his people had finally left and Carlo was gathering their meager possessions. He looked up as she walked through the open door.
“What happened?” Her eyes were red and she had to wipe away a falling tear.
Carlo had wondered how many times he’d have to tell the same story. In other circumstances he might have found this irritating but now it was just. . . sad.
“I’m not really sure,” he replied. “He was after us. I don’t know why.”
Another tear rolled down Miriam’s cheek. “And he killed Cress.”
Carlo paused and then sat on the bed next to Charles. “Yeah.”
She wiped her face again. “You’ve never seen anyone like that before?”
Carlo shook his head and stood up. “No.”
“And he didn’t say anything.”
“Nothing. Never made a sound.”
Miriam sighed. “And you’re leaving?”
He nodded. “No choice. What if he comes back?”
Miriam nodded back. “Well, before you go. . .” She opened the satchel hanging at her side and removed a droid’s head.
As she held it up Carlo could see the glowing yellow eyes. “VP16?”
A familiar and welcome voice replied, “Yes, Master Carlo. It is me.”
Carlo took the droid’s head in his hands, smiling for the first time since the day before. “It’s good to hear your voice. What happened to you?” Carlo asked.
“It is a long story.”
Carlo cut him off, “How about the short version?”
“Very well. I was washed downstream by the flash flood for a considerable distance before I was able to get out of the water. I walked to the base of the mountain, logically that is where we should have been able to meet up. Unfortunately I encountered a small group of sentinels belonging to the People of Naraka. The last thing I remember is when they started to dismember me.”
Carlo looked back at Miriam. “Thank you. I’m not sure I can repay you but I will try.”
Miriam nodded. “I don’t have a body in stock that is compatible with VP16. But I’ll keep an eye out. Maybe we can find some used parts.”
Carlo nodded his thanks.
Charles tugged at his sleeve trying to get his attention. When he looked down the boy handed him the first knife the man in black had dropped. Carlo took it.
Miriam spoke, “Did the murderer leave that behind?”
“Constable must have missed it,” he mused.
VP16 spoke. “That is not an ordinary knife. It’s a ceremonial blade used by Sith assassins.”
Carlo was astonished, “You’ve seen one of these before?” He held the blade close in front of the droid's eyes.
“No. Not really. But the Jedi text had an excellent description.” VP16 replied.
Miriam held up a hand. “Wait a minute. Who are the Sith?”
VP16 answered that question as well. “They are the ancient enemy of the Jedi.”
Miriam scoffed. “Jedi? You mean like the crazy sorcerers that Timchuk worships?”
“I don’t know anyone named Timchuk,” VP16 stated matter of factly.
“I do,” Carlo said. “Timchuk mentioned the Jedi yesterday. Maybe he knows something about these assassins.”
Miriam snorted again. “You’ll get no help from the constable blaming this on sorcerers and boogie men. They’ll laugh you out of town.”
Carlo held up his hand and pointed to the laceration he'd received in the fight. “This didn’t come from my imagination.”
Miriam laid a hand on Carlo’s shoulder. “Look, I’ll help anyway I can. I loved Cress like he was my own.”
Carlo put his hand over hers.
*****
Glade took a deep breath and appeared to be having difficulty keeping his knees from knocking together. He was standing across the desk from the Colonel who sat stone-faced listening to him tell the events of the last day.
The lackey swallowed hard and continued. “And then when we get back to the crossroads, he stopped me again. Then the guy got out of the speeder and just walked away into the woods.”
The Colonel stayed silent for a moment, once again enjoying the fear pouring off his unfortunate visitor. Then he spoke. “Is that all?”
Glade rubbed his hands together nervously. “Yeah, that’s all.”
The Colonel rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “You can go.” He swiveled his chair around away from his desk to face the window. Glade, seemingly happy to be dismissed —and probably even more happy to be alive— fled the room as fast as he could.
The Colonel sighed. He stared out of the window at the mountain where his mine was located.
Another door in the side of the room opened and a tall figure in black entered the room. The figure strode forward until coming to a stop next to the Colonel’s chair.
The Colonel didn’t look up or acknowledge the man in black. They both stayed still and neither of them spoke until the Colonel finally broke the silence. “Your brother’s sacrifice will not be forgotten, my friend.”
There was another moment of silence between them.
The Colonel spoke again, “I assure you, when it is time, you’ll be called upon. You’ll have your revenge.”
Again, silence reigned.
Then, from the Colonel, “You have more to report?”
The tall figure nodded and held out a piece of paper folded into a tiny square. The Colonel took and unfolded it. His eyes played over the page before crumpling it tightly into the palm of his hand.
The Colonel made a vague motion with his other hand. “You may go. But stay ready for when I call.”
The black garbed figure nodded his hooded head and left the room.
The Colonel waited for the door to close before swiveling his chair back around to face the desk. He set the paper in an ashtray and used his lighter to set it aflame. He watched it burn to ash considering what the drawing of a cylinder producing a glowing blade could mean.
*****
Behind the Hotel Rodia Carlo picked up Charles and placed him on the back of the fathier he’d once borrowed from Anga. His supply bag, with VP16s head inside,was already secured on the side. He draped the Jedi cloak across the withers of the beast and patted Charles on the small of the back. “You ready?”
The boy nodded.
Carlo went to the hitching post and untied the lead rope.
He turned to guide the beast out to the street and he stopped when he saw Miriam and Horace standing by the alleyway.
They approached and Carlo mowed his head. “Horace, l’m so sorry.”
Horace, who was holding Miriam's arm, held his other hand out. “I’m sorry too. You don’t have to leave.”
He took the hand offered to him. “I wish we didn’t have to. You’ll all be in danger if we stay.”
Horace didn’t release his hand. “And you’ll be in danger even if you go.”
Carlo smiled at the Rodian. He’d known bravery before so he knew it this time when he saw it. “You’re a good man, my friend.”
Miriam let go of Horace and went up to Charles and patted him on the leg. “Take care of yourself and him too.”
The boy smiled and nodded.
“I called Timchuk on the comlink. He’s waiting for you,” Horace informed him as he handed another satchel to Carlo who looked at him quizzically. He continued, “Food. For the road.”
The couple waved to them and Carlo led the fathier out of the alley. He gave Charles a smile, hoping to lift the boy’s spirits now that they were back on the road.
