Equipment : One(1) shoto lightsaber, One(1) standard E-11D blaster carbine, One(1) industrial-strength syntherope (50m),
Libeta (under eyepatch), One(1) encrypted comlink transmitter
Ship: Standard-kit HWK-290 light freighter
Tags:
LE-03 (Leigh)
,
A
ARS VAMI
,
Felmorante L'lerim
,
Malicar
The fight itself was over in seconds. Na'an wove through the cluster of droids like a dancer through a stand of bamboo, her blade flashing to slice head and limb and chassis as she moved. Her eyes-half-closed, she could register the sound of shouting and growls--the arrogant man's Wookiees, at least, were no bluster. She let them take out the ones on the outskirts, counting on their mechanical need to adjust to the sudden dark to take care of them.
Her focus, as she'd said, was on the living. As Leigh had projected, there were five of them: two humans, tied up, with three more standing over them carrying blasters. They'd trained the blasters on her from the moment she burst in, but the arrival of the Wookiees had pulled away the attention of two of them. The third, then. Na'an swung her shoto around her body, blocking one-two-three blaster bolts as she closed the distance, then slammed into the tallest of them. The being--a human male, the fall of his hood revealed--stumbled at Na'an's sudden weight, then fell, with Na'an landing on top of their chest and her first, still holding the stun grenade, half-lodged in their mouth.
"I'm going to talk," she growled. Malicar's mask didn't change the tone of her voice, exactly, but added a harsh, artificial note that sent a shiver through the human's body she could feel through her legs. Interesting. For someone willing to murder innocents, this man was wonderfully easy to terrify.
"You're going to answer," she said silkily, leaning into it.
"If you lie, I'll give you to the Wookiees. Got me?"
The man nodded, his breath hitching. Na'an nodded in return, loosening the grenade slightly.
"Attaboy. First, the bombs. We know about the ones in the administrative building, and the casino, and in the docks. Are there any more?"
The man shook his head; his teeth scraped her knuckles. Na'an leaned in until, had she taken the mask off, she would have been close enough to kiss him; his heartrate quickened under the skin of her wrist. He was panicking, sure he wouldn't believe her; his eyes tracked wildly, as if looking for some expected answer that would satisfy her. Na'an snorted again--for a terrorist, this man was a terrible liar.
"Okay," she said finally, and she could feel the fall of the man's chest as he exhaled in relief.
"So you know your little operation's failed. Now, for motive. Who sent you here? What's this about?"
The man's breath, uneven from her weight on his chest, stopped entirely. Now, rather than looking at her, he'd looked to the other two beings. One of them had already fallen at the hands of the Wookiees, but the second was fighting remarkably better than someone untrained would have been able to. From this angle, Na'an could see the head of the fallen being--specifically, the high, pointed forehead as it rolled away under a massive hairy foot.
A Cerean.
Another Cerean.
The recognition sent a bolt of something icy down Na'an's spine. She leaned down into the man's chest, pushing the stun grenade roughly further into the man's mouth. She flicked the ignition of her shoto to deactivate the blade, then brought the hand up to meet his eye.
"Oooooh, don't think I didn't see that," she said too urgently; she could feel herself smiling shakily under the mask.
"I bet you'll recognize this, too."
She drew the symbol--three bent lines around an empty core--in the air just in front of the man's eyes. In response, the man's eyes widened in terror until she could see the whites all the way around. He twitched for a moment, the muscles of his arms tight as wires, before he started to
thrash under her, forcing her to lean in to keep him down.
"Blast it, stop!" she said roughly, fighting him. If she leaned too much into his head she could hurt him, make him choke on the grenade, or even just get thrown by the heavier being, but damn it all, she wasn't
done. "Just tell me what it means! Why the temple, why the Cereans, why--"
But he was gurgling now, a horrible wet sound, and through the Force Na'an could tell something had gone wrong. She removed the stun grenade from his mouth, still untriggered, but the thrashing wouldn't stop. He must have had something on him--a capsule built into a molar, a sensor built into his wrist she hadn't had time to check, something--but he'd managed to trigger it despite the hold.
"No, no no no--"
She got off the human, hoisted him up to a seated position, even held his head upright in her hand, but she could feel it was already late. The human chuckled, spitting out wads of foamy spit, and looked at her with a horrible knowing in his eyes.
"You know," he said wetly against her fingers.
"Old stones always call."
That phrase again--
old stones, old stones, why does he know the old stones--deepened the icy feeling in Na'an's gut even further. And the man must have felt it in her, just as much as she felt the knowing in him, because he spent his last breath laughing at her confused alarm. But it wasn't at Na'an he was looking at when he died.
It was at Malicar.