Chapter XXV – Dreams
pass in time – Part II
Early morning
Zula’s inability to shapeshift had plagued him
repeatedly over the years but never more so than
now.
“How
easy this would be if I could manipulate other
forms,” he griped to himself.
The
Clawdite’s first stop upon arriving in Kuryn was the
fire-ravaged hotel that had housed Vaarn Nurgh and
Rheu Skeutrn. Posing as a reporter doing a follow-up
story, Zula interviewed a number of the hotel staff
but couldn’t verify with any certainty the
whereabouts of his fellow Clawdite’s. He requested
to be taken to the location of the explosion but the
hotel supervisor declared it too dangerous.
Discreetly, Zula presented the man with a handful of
credits, which immediately changed the supervisor’s
mind.
“I
take no responsibility if you get hurt – you’re on
your own,” the supervisor sternly warned in a hushed
tone.
“I
understand,” Zula calmly replied.
He
boarded the lift and stepped out into the once
elegantly decorated corridor that was now the visage
of ruin. The area still carried remnants of smoke
and it made the Clawdite cough more than once – his
lungs were just not strong enough to handle the
disturbing odor. He knew it was only a matter of
time before uncontrollable coughing would overcome
him and force him to leave. Zula reached into the
pocket of his long coat and retrieved an electronic
device. He activated it, pushed a few buttons, and
then watched the display.
The
Clawdite frowned, as the locator appeared to have
difficulty locating its source. “Perhaps she wasn’t
here after all,” he muttered to himself in
disappointment. He slowly walked along the corridor
hoping to pick up the signal implanted in Regan that
served as a homing device.
Zula
coughed again, harder this time. “Instinct tells me
she’s here but I can’t find her,” he continued to
talk to himself.
He
rounded the corner and made his way down the next
hallway and still nothing registered on the locator.
He turned again, still intently watching the
viewscreen when it finally registered a very weak
signal. Energized, Zula hurried along only pausing
as another fit of coughing took over. Once it
subsided, he wiped his mouth and noticed a small
amount of blood on his hand. Quickening his steps as
much as he dared, he followed the display
coordinates all the way down the hallway, finally
stopping in front of a room whose door had been
obliterated.
“Could be the work of Regan but more likely from the
rescue team,” he observed and cautiously walked in.
Zula
couldn’t believe the amount of destruction in the
room as he gasped for air – the lingering smell of
fire and charred remains drifting even more ardently
into his nostrils. He stared wide-eyed at the
enormous gaping hole in the floor, the blackened
walls, and molten metal – complete and utter
destruction.
He
glanced at his locator again and noticed the signal
had gained a little strength. He followed it;
carefully navigating the floor, knowing that time
was running out.
Zula
threw his leg to the side, kicking aside a chair
that crumbled upon impact and looked down at the
floor. Using his hand, he swept away the ash and
dirt and then he saw what was left of Regan Sile,
his Master’s prized cyborg – a partial homing
beacon, faintly glowing amid the debris.
__________________________________*****__________________________________
Zula
could be quite resourceful when the need arose,
which is one reason Reynard kept him close and
utilized those abilities at his leisure.
The
Clawdite’s stay in Kuryn would require those skills
and Zula had immediately set to work. Based on what
little he found in Vaarn and Rheu’s suite, or rather
what remained of it, Zula knew he was on track. He
felt badly for Regan, as she could be quite
pleasant, but all the work he and Reynard had toiled
over to create her was now gone and scattered
amongst the dust. The demonstration his Master had
given him back on Ord Mantell was minuscule compared
to his reaction now that there was confirmation of
his cyborg’s death.
__________________________________*****__________________________________
Zula
wasted no time in leaving the hotel and had gone
back to his ship to begin searching the HoloNet for
all news reports on the Maquisic Inn fire.
“Hmmm,” he pondered as he sat back in his seat and
folded his arms across his chest. “There’s no
mention of them…no descriptions that would fit their
standard human form…and no Clawdite’s… Puzzling…”
Zula
ran another search through the HoloNet but nothing
further showed other than what he already had read.
“So…they could still be here – somewhere, or…they
left before the fire.” He sat for a moment,
contemplating his next course of action. “I believe
it’s time I checked in with the control center,” he
decided. “But first I must rest.” The Clawdite rose
from his chair and went to his quarters where a
special hyperbaric chamber awaited him, courtesy of
Reynard. Because he accompanied his Master nearly
everywhere, Reynard had had the chamber installed to
ensure his servant’s comfort. Such compassion was
not afforded to many individuals.
Entering the code, Zula gratefully stepped inside
and sat down. He gingerly closed his eyes as the
chamber sealed itself through the automatic timer.
It was time to dream…
__________________________________*****__________________________________
Approximately noon
Obi-Wan stepped off the turbolift and onto the 6th
floor of Wing B on route to Vaarn’s hospital room.
It would be his first visit to the Clawdite since
Anakin’s death and according to the doctor’s report,
Vaarn’s injuries were healing to the point that his
further recuperation would be outside the hospital.
Obi-Wan approached the security guard standing next
to Vaarn’s door.
“I’m
sorry – only authorized personnel may see this
patient,” the security guard politely said as he
held out a hand to stop him.
The
Jedi withdrew his ID chip and handed it to the guard
who immediately scanned it with the decoder attached
to his hip.
“Thank you, Jedi Master Kenobi,” the guard said as
he handed the chip back and stepped aside. “You may
enter.”
“Thank you,” Obi-Wan replied. Quite a difference
from my last visit, he mused to himself.
Vaarn continued to stare out the window of his room
when the Jedi entered, believing it was just the
nurse performing her daily routines.
“Hello Vaarn,” Obi-Wan cheerfully said.
The
Clawdite’s head immediately turned and his eyes
brightened. “Hello Master Jedi. Long time no see.
Where’s your sidekick?”
“My
sidekick?”
“The
one you brought with you last time. Skywalker.”
“Oh.
Yes.” He looked away for a moment.
Vaarn cast the Jedi a confusing glance. “Something
wrong?”
Obi-Wan regained his self-control and replied, “I
apologize. No, nothing is wrong. So how are you? I
understand you’ll be free of this place very soon.”
“Not
soon enough for me!” Vaarn enthusiastically
retorted. “Bacta may be a wonderful thing but the
food is barely tolerable and being a virtual
prisoner isn’t much fun either.”
“Yes, bacta is very beneficial. However, the food is
beyond my control but the security was for your
protection,” Obi-Wan stated.
“And
yours, I imagine,” Vaarn said with a smirk. “So,
what happens when I get out of here?”
“That will be determined by higher authorities than
I. Of course, your cooperation will be taken into
account.”
“…Of
course.”
“You
previously stated that you knew about an antidote
for MX-492. I need the precise location.”
Vaarn lay back in his bed and took a deep breath.
“This will ensure my freedom?”
Obi-Wan moved toward the chair intended for visitors
and sat down, brushing his robe aside. “I can’t make
any guarantees but it will certainly help.”
Vaarn reached over, grabbed the datapad from the
table beside his bed, and held it in his hands,
staring at the device. His future depended on the
information stored in the little electronic pad and
he hoped it would be enough.
Wordlessly, he handed it to the Jedi.
“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said with a small smile. “I see
you anticipated my request.” The Jedi used the Force
to determine if there was any deception evident in
the Clawdite, but he could detect none. All he could
discern was what he would classify as ‘relief’. “The
local security will be here in the morning to escort
you to a place of temporary holding.”
Vaarn nodded.
Obi-Wan stood and offered his hand to the Clawdite.
“I hope it all turns out for you.”
Vaarn shook the offered hand and said, “As do I.”
__________________________________*****__________________________________
Zula
emerged from his self-imposed hibernation feeling
rejuvenated. His mind clear and alert he immediately
set to his task to find Reynard’s elusive Clawdites’.
“My
Master is too generous – bestowing the chamber upon
me. He has lost so much of his humanity; it pains me
to see it.” Zula spoke to himself as he walked
through the fully automated ship. The Clawdite
didn’t have to worry about anyone overhearing him
since he was the only occupant on board. Reynard had
spent an exorbitant amount of credits in the design
and implementation of this particular vessel. He
wanted it to be precise to his specifications and
automated to the point where one person could manage
it. A hearty feat to accomplish, but the end result
pleased the scientist immensely.
Trust was a trait that Reynard had lost long ago,
which this ship demonstrated.
Zula
busied himself with his searches – the spaceport,
security centers, hotels, and medical facilities,
but he still couldn’t locate Vaarn or Rheu. He had
discovered that Vaarn’s ship remained docked for the
ship name was listed in the manifest he had
retrieved.
“Such a loose security system,” he said with a shake
of his head. “At least it confirms that they are
still here.”
One
at a time, he went back over the lists he had
downloaded. “I missed something…somewhere…” he
mused, somewhat perturbed. As his eyes scanned the
last listing of patients in the areas main hospital,
the Clawdite suddenly stopped. He missed it before
but not this time – a most particular name that was
familiar to him.
“Pablo Caiirn. So, you used a pseudonym. Very good.
If it is indeed you I will know soon enough.”
__________________________________*****__________________________________
Obi-Wan leaned back in the carriage that would
transport him back to his hotel. He knew Vaarn was
risking his life to help them, but at the same time,
the Clawdite is a dangerous individual and he didn’t
know how far Vaarn’s assistance would carry him.
His
thoughts turned to his old friend as the carriage
slowly rocked him back and forth. I miss you, my
brother.
Everyone from Cela to the Senator had already
familiarized themselves with the layout Bail’s
informant had transmitted and devised a plan. All
they needed now was the information contained in the
datapad Vaarn gave Obi-Wan – and a vital link to the
puzzle it was.
Obi-Wan strode into his suite and purposefully past
the others who were waiting for him. Quickly, he
connected the datapad Vaarn had given him up to his
computer and copied the information.
“Gather around, everyone,” the Jedi beckoned. “We’ve
got the location of the antidote.”
__________________________________*****__________________________________
Zula
waited.
He
was the epitome of patience and knew his appointed
task would be worth the wait. After all, these
Clawdites’ had betrayed Master Reynard. He had no
doubt they had destroyed Regan and that, in turn,
hurt their Master deeply. An act Zula would not
endure. Ironically, he didn’t view his own actions
as a form of betrayal, but an intervention to save
his Master’s soul.
Yes,
he would make them pay for turning against Reynard.
Zula
left his ship under the full cover of night – using
it to his advantage. He made it a point that no one
saw him as he darted in and out of buildings, trees,
and various types of foliage. The hoverboard beneath
his feet carrying him forward at a speed he wouldn’t
have been able to accomplish on foot.
__________________________________*****__________________________________
Sakoya stood to the left of her husband, while Bail
Organa stood on the right. Behind him were Xar’ek,
Han, Luke, and Chewie – who towered over them all.
Cela managed to sneak under Bail’s arm and stared at
the screen in front of her.
“It
looks like a maze,” she remarked in amazement.
“It
certainly does,” Bail concurred.
“Piece of cake,” Xar’ek said with a snort.
Han
added, “There’ll be security measures in place
everywhere.”
“But
we have the codes so we won’t be setting off any
alarms.”
“You
hope, kid,” Han retorted with a cocked eyebrow.
“Luke is right. We shouldn’t have a problem…” Sakoya
chimed in.
Obi-Wan glanced at his wife. “But?”
“Reynard is very intelligent. If he suspects any
sort of treachery he may change codes or even move
the serum.”
“My
source has taken every measure necessary to make
certain that doesn’t happen,” Bail reassured her.
“Then we all know what must be done,” Obi-Wan
stated.
__________________________________*****__________________________________
Stealthily, a figure clad in dark attire covered by
a black cloak waited in the darkness for an
opportunity to present itself.
The
hours passed. The stars overhead twinkled in the
night sky and the only sound came from chirping
crickets.
Suddenly, the door slid open and an unsuspecting
orderly stepped out, exhausted from his shift. All
he had on his mind was the comfort of his bed and
the ability to sleep. He never saw the figure emerge
from the shadows or the device that sent currents of
energy throughout his body. A hand clamped over his
mouth, quickly stifling his howls of pain and then
he fell into a heap onto the ground.
Zula
bent down, dragged the unconscious man into the
bushes, and then took the hospital ID that would
gain him access through the employee entrance where
he had been waiting.
“I
apologize for your discomfort, but it was
necessary,” Zula sadly said to the man, breathing
hard from the exertion. Pushing his way back through
the bushes, the Clawdite quickly approached the door
and slid the ID card down the security slot mounted
on the wall next to it.
Zula’s movements made nary a sound as he made his
way down the corridor and turned the first corner.
He peered into one door after another, searching for
clothing that would mark him as one of the hospital
staff only to come up empty-handed.
Time
was not something he could squander and so he
abandoned the search and made his way back to the
turbolift he had just passed.
Thankful to have the chance to catch his breath,
Zula studied the hospital map located on the wall
next to the turbolift doors. “I already know where
you are; now it is a simple matter of getting
there.” Satisfied he knew his way; the Clawdite
pushed the button for the lift doors and waited.
Before long, the doors opened and Zula stepped
inside. “Sixth floor,” he commanded.
Reaching its destination, the lift opened and Zula
carefully peered out into the bright nondescript
hallway. He was somewhat surprised to see only one
person attending to their duties – other than that
the hallway was devoid of any other personnel.
“Stand by,” he quietly uttered inside the turbolift
and waited a moment, hoping the orderly would
disappear.
Just
as Zula peered out of the lift again, he saw the
orderly stroll down another corridor. “Now I may be
on my way,” he said to himself, the relief pouring
from his voice.
Paying attention to the location indicators placed
on the walls, Zula crept down the corridor, past the
point where the orderly had gone and continued to
the next intersection where he turned to the right.
A few turns later and following the corridor all the
way down to the end, Zula reached his destination.
“I have looked forward to this moment,”
he whispered as his lips curved into a sly grin. He
wanted to laugh at the security guard, asleep at his
post, his snores resounding in the hall, but he only
felt sorry for the man instead. Acting quickly, Zula
reached into the pouch inside his cloak and withdrew
a small syringe. He briefly eyed the orange liquid
contained inside and removed the cap protecting the
tiny needle.
“I’m
sorry, but no witnesses,” Zula sadly said as he
injected a portion of the serum into the sleeping
man’s neck.
The
Clawdite was relieved that the guard hadn’t felt the
small prick due to his heavy slumber, but also
remorseful that the man would never wake up.
Still holding what remained of the deadly toxin,
Zula entered the room of Vaarn Nurgh.
Vaarn had grown accustomed to the hospital staff
entering his room at all times of the day and night.
At first, it disturbed him and he would swiftly
awaken if asleep when they entered. However, now he
paid it no mind for he was safe – or so he thought.
Zula
pulled back the hood of his cloak revealing his
sunken eyes surrounded by skin the color of ash. His
sparse hair was slicked back but he reached up and
set it into place anyway – an apparent form of
habit. Soundlessly, he walked forward, the syringe
firmly in his withered hand. He nodded in approval
that he had been right – the pseudonym was in fact
Vaarn Nurgh as he looked upon him in his natural
state. Zula was quite familiar with this particular
Clawdite’s reflexes so the thought of a second
chance was nullified – he had to succeed the first
time.
Closer he crept…the beads of perspiration already
forming on his brow as Zula reached out – and
quickly injected the toxin into Vaarn’s exposed arm.
Shock registered on the Clawdite’s face when Vaarn
continued to sleep peacefully. He leaned over and
could feel his brethren’s breath in addition to the
steady rise and fall of his chest so he knew Vaarn
was alive. Zula righted himself and looked perplexed
at the slumbering Clawdite. Hiding the syringe in
his pocket, he attempted to wake him before the
toxin took full effect.
Zula
shook Vaarn’s shoulder and said, “Vaarn! Wake up!”
Dazed, Vaarn’s eyes fluttered and then opened.
“Who?” he asked in confusion.
“Master Reynard sent me.”
Vaarn’s head rolled to the side and he tried to
focus on the person speaking to him. “Zula?” he
sleepily asked.
Placated, Zula took on a more relaxed stance. “Yes.
I need answers and quickly.”
“To
what?” Vaarn groggily asked, annoyed that this
lapdog of Reynard had interrupted his sleep.
“Where is the toxin?”
Vaarn licked his lips, his throat felt parched and
it was hard to swallow. “Gone,” he managed.
“Destroyed…in the…fire.”
“And
the invitations? Regan? Rheu?”
Vaarn nodded as he closed his eyes. “Destroyed,” he
mumbled.
“My
task is finished,” Zula remarked with more remorse
than he had thought he would feel. In the past, he
and Vaarn had rarely tolerated each other and their
animosity had only grown over the years. Zula had
looked forward to this assignment if only because he
could finally rid himself of his adversary, but now,
it felt bittersweet. There had been no harsh
exchange, no test of brain over brawn, nothing but
the peaceful look on Vaarn’s face as he gave in to
death.
It
left Zula feeling bereft and ashamed.
He
turned and left the room without glancing back.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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