Star Wars: Shroud of Fear [501st + The King in the North]

[The King in the North]

No matter how much the galaxy changed, a few things remained constant. The Jedi, the Sith, the Force. And the Hutts. Their slimy fingers always managed to maintain control of it's dark corners, pulling the strings in all sorts of illegal operations. The Republic had discovered the planet of Quesh, locted in Hutt space, during the Great Galactic War against the Sith Empire. It was a dead planet, all but abandoned since massive quakes had unleashed a toxic haze upon the surface. Whereas most would see it as a place to be avoided, the Republic saw an opportunity. The chemicals found on the planet were known as "Hutt Venom", a main ingredient in many of the most powerful adrenals available. That made Quesh both economically and militarily valuable that needed to be kept in secret from their enemies. That's where the Hutts came in. They were experienced with the process of refining these chemicals and had the resources to make it happen quickly. Generally, Hutts tried to avoid becoming entangled in the politics of the galaxy, especially during a war. Credits were the language that spoke the loudest to those devious worms and they quickly realized the opportunity at hand.


For the first few years, everything went smoothly and the profits rolled in, keeping the cartels fat and happy. The trouble began when their mining operations uncover ed remnants of the planet's past. At first there were a few ruins, artifacts, things which would be of interest only to Republic scientists. Then they found it.


Zeebak breathed heavily beneath his gas mask as he leaned on the railing of the platform. Another day of claustrophobia in the Quesh heat doing the Republic's dirty work. The Sullustan operated the laser drill which was raised high above the surface. It was used to expose new vents of toxic gas for refining. "Get back to work!" A harsh voice rasped over the intercom in his helmet, the familiar grumpiness of the Overseer ringing through loud and clear. He muttered a few curses to himself in his native tongue as he took his seat back at the controls. The machine came to life with a few taps at the console, the monitor showing where his drill was positioned over the surface. The survey team had already located a promising new pocket for him. "Let's get this over with, I need a meal." He said to no one in particular as he pulled the trigger. The laser melted through the surface of the planet easily and in a few moments a brand new geyser was spewing noxious gases. Zeebak was getting out of his seat when the whole platform began to shake. "Oh blast..." He took off down the walkway at a full sprint, but the metal plating feel out from under him before he could make it even halfway. The screeching of metal filled the air like the death throes of some great beast, then there was only darkness.


Zeeb slowly opened his eyes, thinking he was blind for a moment before he realized he was in an underground chamber. His hands shot to his face but to his relief the mask remained uncompromised. The only light was filtering in from the hole in the surface far above. Then he remember the emergency glow-rod attached to his belt. It gave off a bright, green glow which illuminated the immediate area. The chamber was much bigger than he had though with the wreckage of his drill only filling a quarter of the space. Something caught his attention in the middle of the room. A great black obelisk sat alone in the middle of the room. As soon as he saw it, he felt a sense of palpable dread knotting in his stomach but his curiosity got the better of him. A few steps away he finally got a good look at the object. The obsidian surface was seemless with no visible markings to be seen. He felt as if he was looking into an abyss, a sky with no stars. The thought sent a chill down his spine. Even still, he felt the urge to touch it. The stone was cool to the touch which was unheard of on a desert planet such as Quesh. Before Zeeb knew what was hapening, he began to feel lightheaded and the darkness flooded his vision. Gruesome images flashed through his head, the broken and mutilated bodies of his coworkers, the Overseer.


When his vision returned a moment later, he found himself in a prison cell aboard the Hutt's orbital station. He recognized the layout from when he had first arrived to work the mines, though he knew he must be dreaming. "So, the murderous scum is finally awake?" The guard standing at the door to his cell gave him a menacing look, blaster at the ready. He wanted to speak, to ask what the guard meant, but he found his mouth was drier than the surface of Tatooine. "Nothing to say for yourself? Oh well, the boss will figure out what to do with you."


The Hutt carefully observed the stone obelisk from his throne. Gorth had ordered it brought to his chambers immediately after it's discovery, though the account of the violent rampage that followed had caused him to take great caution in bringing it here. It rested within a plasteel container in the center of the room. His guards had taken a position a few paces back ever since it had been brought in and he didn't blame them. The stone had a presence to it that even those who were not in tune with the greater powers of the galaxy could feel. Nothing but trouble would come if it remained here. That didn't meant that he couldn't make a profit from it, and he knew just the right buyer. "Contact the Republic. Tell them we have something the Jed-i will find most intriguing."

 

[501st]

"Orbital station 0-3-8, Nal Hutta Star, requesting docking privileges for official business. Authorization code A-B-7-7-O," Jedi Knight Tariss Vos said as their small ship, the Jedi escort craft Fulcrum, slowed down to a snail's pace just off of the Star's docking ports.

"Confirmed. Welcome aboard, esteemed Jedi," came the synthesized reply of a specialized clerical droid.

Vos keyed off her comlink and allowed her lekka to fall back over her ear. She relaxed in her seat, crossing bare arms across her chest as she turned to regard her padawan. "Nova. Stand ready. This is a Hutt we're dealing with today. They usually have a taste for Togruta and Twi'leks," Vos said.

Nova Fell's cute nose crinkled at the thought as she unhooked the harness that kept the co-pilot safely secured and stood up out of the seat. "... don't tell me he asked for us specifically."

"No, he probably thinks they've sent someone a good deal hairier," Vos said. "Just a word of warning. Mind tricks don't do a thing against them and they usually employ droids for heavy lifting. In short? We're running extra careful today."

Vos got out of her own seat and with an absent-minded sweep of her hand she called her lightsabers off of the dash and onto her hips. She was a bit of a combat specialist, and it showed -- one on each hip, and a final longer one strapped across her lower back, hidden beneath the tail of her long tunic. From dual-wielding to the Force manipulation of her blades, she always had been a force to reckon with.

Nova fell into step behind her master, fingering the hilt of her own lightsaber. She'd always been slightly more sensitive than her master in a number of ways.

And she was getting a bad feeling about this.

 

[The King in the North]

The airlock opened with a hiss, revealing a shiny silver protocol droid flanked by two Devaronian guards dressed in red and black armor. "Greetings, Master Jedi. I am TC-62. I welcome you on behalf of Gorth the Great. He wishes to speak with you right away. Please, follow me." Without waiting for a response, the droid spun on it's heel. The Jedi were led through the station towards the throne room. They caught the gaze of every shady character lingering in the hallway who muttered to each other in a variety of dialects as they passed.

A large blast door led into the dimly lit circle of the main chamber. Gorth rested in his floating throne against the far wall with a large grin spread across his face and his stubby across his chest. TC-62 took his place to the right of the pedestal. Six more Devaronian guards filed the alcoves that lined the walls of the room. Visits from Jedi were usually solemn and boring affairs if things ended peacefully but the Council had seen fit to send him two beauties.

"Chowbasa, Jeedi. Chuba yatuka shado. So, you are interested in what I have to sell? I won't waste your time then." His chubby fingers keyed into the display on the arm of his throne. A moment later, the center of the floor slid open as the obelisk was raised from below. The sight of it still impressed Gorth, though it unnerved him the more he gazed at it. "A gift from the planet of Quesh. A most curious artifact. I am eager to see what you make of it." A few of the guards shifted nervously once the object was fully raised, gripping their rifles a bit tighter even though it was sealed.

 

[501st]

They moved like they had done this a thousand times -- they probably had. Nova fell into step right behind Vos' left shoulder. Nova's own lightsaber was on her left side, and so they were optimally primed to defend and cover one another in the event of something untoward going on. Vos looked downright casual, her arms folded underneath her chest and her expression carefully calculated to look like she was going over her grocery list in her head.

"Yavoo, grancha Hutt," Vos said with a slight bow of the head, one of acknowledgement rather than prostrate respect. "Please. We've no intention of being here longer than needed."

Nova came to a stop just behind Vos, and as the obelisk raised up from the ground... her whole body clenched.

"Tariss," Nova hissed.

Vos glanced back over her shoulder, leaning just so for them to speak a moment. Their respective head tails moved somewhat as they spoke, and it was in hushed Twi'lek'i.

Vos turned to regard the Hutt a second time. "My Padawan senses something very off about this obelisk," Vos said. And she could feel it too, albeit not as keenly as Nova could. There was a dark presence around that obelisk, something that stank of the Dark Side. That much Vos could sense.

Nova could sense the blood.

And Vos could sense how tense the guards were. She looked for the physical wherever Nova looked for the spiritual, and she saw how tightly they gripped their rifles, in stark contrast to their more relaxed demeanor previously.

"By what means did you come into this obelisk?" Vos said as she slowly approached the object in question. She ran her hand some few inches above the surface, sensing. Feeling. "Your men are tense. They... dread it. Nerves?" she asked as she glanced toward Gorth. "Or something else?"

 

[The King in the North]

The smile disappeared from the Hutt's face as she spoke. "My guards are paid well to be ready for action at any moment. The presence of two Jedi is not as comforting to us as it may be to others." He waved his hand towards TC-62 who leaned in towards his master, muttering a few words in an almost inaudible tone.

"Right away, sir." The droid bowed before shuffling back out of the chamber. The blast door slammed shut behind him, leaving the room in silence.

A low hum filled the room as the throne which bore his considerable weight began to glide gently off of the pedestal. He circled the vast obelisk a few times, large pupils scanning it's surface hungrily. "A side effect of our mining on the surface, though I'm sure the Republic has informed you about our operation here. The surface is unstable and inhospitable. Ages ago, a great seismic movement released the noxious gases trapped below, killing everything which was unable to escape."

The throne came to a halt on the far side of the object as the Hutt's gaze returned to the females in front of him. "There is no hiding the power of this object so I will not bother lying to you. The worker who made this discovery... well, there is a reason it had been sealed away. Ten were dead before they could even get a message out over the comms." The great worm released a heavy sigh as he returned to the raised platform and spun back around towards them.

"I have dealt with all sorts of heinous and deviant individuals through my life. That man is no killer, but when my guards found him he was like a wild beast." Just as he finished speaking, the door to the chamber opened once more. TC-62 was followed in to the room by a small Sullustan and two more guards. The prisoner was restrained by magnetic cuffs on both wrists and ankles, making his moves stiff as he followed the protocol droid. "Here he is now." Zeebak did not look up from the floor once as he walked. The events of the past few minutes, hours, days had overwhelmed him, sending him into a shocked silence.

 

[501st]

"You have nothing to fear from us," Vos said. "Do we look terribly big and bad to you?" The smile was a little too sweet -- she knew the kind of effect that Jedi, enforcers of the peace, had on the likes of Gorth and quasi-legal operations like Quesh's. What they did might have been on the up-and-up but the type of contractors they got in a place like this were usually on someone's wanted list.

Vos's smile sobered up instantly at Gorth's admission, and Nova made a sound of disbelief and terror behind her. Vos reached over and settled a hand protectively on Nova's shoulder, guiding the young Togruta over to stand in the protection of her master's grip.

"So you seek to get it off your hands and make a few credits in the meanwhile," Vos said. It was their duty to see to such objects of the Dark Side, but to be used by the Hutts in a way like this was a bit distasteful to her.

As the murderer in question was brought into the room, Vos gestured to Nova. "See to him. I'll speak with Gorth," Vos murmured under her breath.

Nova nodded and made her way over to the Sullustan. She knelt somewhat, trying to catch the Sullustan's attention. "What happened?" she whispered.

Meanwhile, Vos regarded Gorth shrewdly.

"I would temper your expectations. We'll not pay much for the privilege of something so dark. This needs to be taken back to Coruscant immediately to be brought before the Jedi Council before it can claim the lives of others. Already I will need to arrange to meet someone else along the way." Vos scowled. "... something so powerful as to be palpable to the Force insensitive is not something to be taken lightly. I'll still pay a thousand credits for this obelisk of yours," Vos said. She was of the opinion that he should have been paying her for the privilege, for a thousand was a pittance for most Jedi artifacts, but still.

 

[The King in the North]

Gorth grumbled to himself after she spoke, glaring at her with a half-lidded scowl. Artifacts such as this would no doubt have many interested buyers on the black market. The Sith Empire would no doubt be interested as well, but they weren't known for their fair dealings. They would just as soon invade Quesh and take everything he had built here. One thousand credits was almost an insult to a Hutt. If they weren't Jedi... well, they probably wouldn't have made it off the station alive. Still, he was making freighter loads of credits off of the Republic-sanctioned operations there was no sense risking.

"Fine, we have a deal. One thousand credits, and you can load it on to your ship yourselves." A few of the Devaronians guards let out a slight snicker, easing the tension which had blanketed the room for the past few minutes.

At the sound of her voice, Zeebak slowly lifted his gaze. She wasn't one of Gorth's minions, that much was apparent as he eyed the hilt hanging at her waist. Perhaps she would be a bit more understanding. The Sullustan had seen better days as his capture had been a forceful one. Ever since he had woken up, he had been piecing together what had happened after the accident. It was almost impossible to believe. From the sound of it, he was lucky they hadn't just gunned him down on the spot.

"I... I do not know. I was working, drilling like usual when the ground began to collapse underneath me. Down in that darkness, I found..." His already large eyes widen even more as he spotted the obelisk resting in the middle of the chamber. "No! Why is that here? You must destroy it. You must." Zeeb slumped to his knees, suddenly feeling weak and lightheaded as he had before.

The guard standing a step behind him gave him a swift kick in the side, but he didn't respond to the blow besides a slight movement. "Get up, you damn schutta." The Devaronian hissed before kicking him once more. Before he even knew what hit him, the guard was on the ground, having his legs taken out from under him with a swing of Zeebak's arms. In an instant, Zeebak was on top of him, smashing his head with the large metal cuffs linking his arms together. The sudden brutality caught the rest of his comrades of guard as they watched the scene unfold with mouths agape. The seemingly bloodthirsty Sullustan lunged with unnatural speed towards the blaster laying on the floor and swung it around towards Nova, unleashing a volley of blaster bolts towards her.

 

[501st]

And Vos damn well knew it. She could have leaned on him to just revoke Republic support and defense and allow the Sith Empire to come after him for that Dark obelisk of his... but that would have been a short term gain for a long term loss. This would work out well enough.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Gorth. It was a pleasure doing business with you," Vos said. She nodded toward Gorth's pet droid. "I'll square up with him. You'll get your credits," Vos said. She gave him a sunny smile and turned toward Nova, heading toward her padawan with a sassy swish of her hips and her lekka.

"... the obelisk?" Nova prompted. And almost as soon as she said it he was freaking out and falling to his knees -- Nova reached for him, but was beat to the Sullustan by the foot of one of Gorth's pet Devaronians.

"Stop! He has had quite enough!" Nova shouted. Her hand flew to her hip the moment the Devaronian went for the next kick, but she was cut off once again by the Sullustan's sudden and frankly startling berserker rage. Her eyes widened as she watched the Devaronian's face pulp beneath the metal cuffs, and she ducked as he grabbed the blaster. This was it, this was how it would all en--

With a snap-hiss! and a steady hum, Tariss Vos leapt to action. Her twin lightsabers, gold and green respectively, left her hands and whirled rapidly under the touch of the Force. A solid wall of saber met the blaster bolts, defecting them toward the ground. Vos leapt into the whirling wheel herself, a determined expression on features so typically casual.

Twi'leks were often dancers employed by the opulent and the seedy, and Vos was really no exception. She danced through the sabers, avoiding her own blades, taking the hilts in her hands and deactivating them as she went. She corkscrewed through the air, landing just before the Sullustan, and thrust the ends of her lightsaber hilts against the Sullustan's shoulders.

"Forgive me."

The blades activated, and Vos disarmed the Sullustan with the horrid stench of burning flesh.

 

[The King in the North]

The room remained in a stunned silence after the flurry of action which had overtaken it. The display had been dazzling, a true measure of what Jedi were capable of, but everyone was too distracted by the aftermath. Where there should have been screams of pain coming from the limbless Sullustan, instead there were guttural growls as he squirmed around, trying in vain to stand with his shackled legs.

"Forget the credits. Take that thing and go, we will clean up after you." Gorth gave his guards a stern look before waving his hand towards the mess in the middle of the floor. They hesitated for a moment, though in the end they knew better than to disobey.

One of the guards grabbed the Sullustan by the back of his tunic and dragged him from the room. The other slung his rifle and picked up the dismembered limbs before following suit. The Force. For everyone but the Jedi and Sith the Force was just more trouble in a treacherous galaxy, and he already had plenty of that. "As lovely as you are, I hope to never see the pair of you again."

 

[501st]

Nova held her hands in front of her eyes. She had never really been meant to be a saber-wielder like Vos was. It was, in fact, a mystery to them both why they had been paired up as master and student, especially for Vos' very first padawan.

It was with no hesitation that Vos pulled her sabers back and laid them home at her hip. She looked down at the Sullustan -- she'd made sure the cuts were clean at the joint -- the burning blades of her sabers had done the rest in ensuring that he would not suffer from infection or anything. Hopefully one day he would be able to fit prosthetics onto where his burnt stumps were now. It was all she could hope for.

"I was about to say the same to you, Gorth," Vos said. She didn't look at him. For all that her words were glib, her tone was as dead serious as before. "Stabilize him and send him in a prisoner escort to the core. He needs help, not punishment. I'll be looking for your transmission to that effect." Vos turned to Nova.

"Go prep Fulcrum. I'll deal with the obelisk," Vos said.

Nova nodded weakly and shuffled off toward the docking ports.

Vos regarded the Obelisk and raised her hands. She reached out with all the power of the Force she had at her command and slowly but surely the Obelisk floated some isx inches off the ground. Her expression was grim as she began to walk backwards, bringing the Obelisk with her with all the power she had at her disposal. It wouldn't take long to get the Obelisk into the storage bay on the Fulcrum, squared away and strapped in so it wouldn't be jostled during the trip. And so done... she returned to the bridge where a pale Nova sat in the co-pilot seat.

It was time to get off this station.

 

[The King in the North]

Almost exactly as he had planned. Gorth watched them wordlessly as they took their leave. "Is it done?" He asked, turning towards TC-62 as he spoke.

"Just as you asked, your greatness." The protocol droid responded in his usual chipper tone. The problem with Jedi, Gorth found, was that they believed themselves infallible in their power. Those who could not tap in to the Force were looked down upon. Hutts were more than just ruthless criminals. Their slow, ponderous facade belied their truly devious nature.

As it happened, the Sith were willing to pay much more than one thousand measly credits for such a powerful object. He had contacted them first, of course. If he could deliver two Jedi to them as well... Let's just say they would pay him enough to build a criminal empire. That was why he had two nigh unnoticeable charges on the dual engines of the Jedi's spacecraft.

Thermally activated, they were primed to blow as the hyperdrive spun to jump to lightspeed. Small explosions, just enough to disable the craft. Of course, he had also had a tracking beacon installed. Leaving them stranded in the middle of space would do him no good if they were unable to find the craft out in the void. It was a shame. They truly were beautiful creatures, but to a Hutt nothing was prettier than a mountain of credits.