Uji grimaced as he landed inside the sewer, the sewage and muck under him rising high enough to begin slipping into his boots. He forced down his body's reaction, the bile rising quickly before, with a concentrated effort, he forced it down. Controlling his breathing as he began racing forward, following the sounds of his prey's escape. The Arconan knew would be able to outpace the Jedi, especially slowed as he was by the non-Force user he escorted. Still, Uji kept his eyes and ears open, certain that Turel would again resort to tricks soon enough to try and distract him.
The tunnel around him streaked past as he ran, his eyes picking out small details as he went, looking to ensure that Turel didn’t throw him off. Each branching passage was marked to designate the section of sewer and where it ran, and his years growing up in Coruscant allowed him to begin piecing the information together of where he was, where the tunnels would lead. His mind raced to determine if he could find a way to cut Sorenn off.
But, no. Too much was left to interpretation. His basic understanding of the system wouldn’t allow him to extrapolate when or where the two men would turn. He could just as easily get lost, his experience in navigating the city-wide planet was nearly a two decades old.
I should study these systems. It may become useful when I come back to finish my business, Uji thought to himself as he cursed, stopping at a three-way intersection. He heard the sound of footfalls splashing down each corridor. Did they split up? The Proconsul considered for a moment, listening intently. Turel had made a mistake, Uji realized, as he discerned footsteps going down all three corridors — he only pursued two men.
Every second mattered as they got further away. Steeling himself for a moment, he closed his eyes as he sought to dispel the Odanite’s influence. His focus shattered the auditory illusion, and once again heard movement from the passage to his left. Uji turned to start after the pair yet again, but stopped short as he remembered something Turel had said.
“‘I have a ride coming, only a few minutes away.’” Turel’s words echoed in his mind. It took only a few moments for the Arconan to determine that the Odan-Urr Proconsul was likely attempting to lead him far enough away to double back to his transport.
Uji began retreating the way they had come, an idea forming in his mind.
Turel pulled his head through the manhole cover, his concern growing at how they had seemingly lost the other Seeker so easily. He knew Uji should have been thrown off, but he’d expected a far more dogged pursuit from the determined Dark Jedi. Below him, Gram muttered and jumped at every shadow they passed, certain that they were finished.
“Would you shut up!” the Jedi hissed. He could still sense Uji’s thoughts if he concentrated, and it worried him how comfortable the Arconan was. If Uji had lost them, he would be furious. The last time the two had fought each other, they’d damn near destroyed the Citadel’s cantina.
The two sort of shared a habit of not backing down, and it worried him more than he wanted to admit. He felt he was being played, something he was unused to being on the receiving end of.
The Jedi hoisted himself out of the sewer, turning back to reach down and pull Gram up. His lightsaber was clipped to his belt, and the moment the Pantoran cleared the exit, he snapped out the .48 enforcer inside his jacket. Turel held it low as they made their way down the small hallway that lead out to the landing platform where his transport was waiting to pick them up.
Peering out around the corner, he found the Gallofree light transport waiting. The ramp was lowered, but his men were nowhere to be seen. He felt Gram try to move past him, and his free hand slapped the informant back against the wall.
Something is wrong
“What in the blazes are we waiting for!? It’s right there! Let's go!” Gram pushed against him, his tone nearly pleading as he looked back to the sewer, expecting any moment for the nightmare chasing them to come erupting out to claim them both.
The Odanite feared the worst, though. He concentrated, and tendrils of his consciousness reached out to the crew of the Gallofree transport. He found the small group unconscious except for one approaching them, and he growled as he felt the presence of his dear friend and former Aedile with the man.
Uji held the Odan-Urr officer in front of him as they exited the back of the transport to wait, his lightsaber having been enough of a warning to the Corporal that trying anything would prove entirely foolish. His prisoner tensed as they stepped out onto the ramp and spotted Turel waiting for them, having finally caught up. Uji waited as the two exchanged a barely perceptible gesture between themselves.
The officer relaxed, the signal to stand down clear enough. Uji had suspected that the Proconsul wouldn’t risk one of his own.
“Thought I’d given you the slip. Jeez, you’re a stubborn prick.” The Jedi’s voice betrayed his anger, Uji’s only saving grace being that Sorenn would know his crew was alive. Gram stood beside the Odanite, shivering as he realized what was about to happen.
“I have tolerated your interference because of our friendship. My patience is at an end.” Uji was surprised by his own resolution. Not long ago, he would never have considered this course. His time as Proconsul of Arcona was beginning to harden him. He knew the men inside the ship had no involvement in this, simply obeying Turel’s orders to take him off-world and to wherever the Jedi were hiding. Still, he knew without hesitation he’d cut the man down if he had to.
“So what? I turn him over and you let my people go? You really think that’s how this is gonna work?” Turel asked incredulously. They both knew that if Uji killed his prisoner, it would mean a true conflict between them and their clans.
Uji shook his head. He could see the worry on the opposing pairs’ faces as he thought things through for a moment.
“No, you misunderstand. You will kill him, and I will let you and yours leave.”
“You karking Sleemo! You’re out of your damn mind!”
The brilliant white of Uji’s blade appeared beside the officer’s throat, hovering close enough that the fabric of the man's collar began to burn. A look of discomfort crossing the Human’s features. To his credit, he remained still.
Heartbeats passed as the two Proconsuls locked eyes with one another. Their friendship was cast aside, the two of them no longer allies, no longer old friends — in that moment they represented only their own interests. Uji knew the Jedi considered each alternative; he also knew the Sentinel wouldn’t risk taking a shot, no matter how good he was.
Uji watched as Turel gave a frustrated sigh and holstered his pistol, turned to Gram, and made his apologies. The informant turned to run, only making it a few steps before two darts took him in the back. The paralytics they contained only took a few seconds to spread before Gram hit the rough duracrete, unable to force his limbs to move any further.
Deactivating his lightsaber, Uji walked down the ramp, leaving the officer where he was as he made to move past the Odanite. He felt Turel’s hand on his arm, yanking him to a stop as the other man leaned in towards him.
“Atyiru is going to hear about this, clear? I don’t know what you’re on about, but no way your being here has anything to do with Arcona. Does it?” he challenged. The Jedi’s voice held an edge, both fury and mild confusion.
“Don’t pry into business that doesn’t concern you, Turel.” Uji pushed past, breaking the hold on his arm, and approached the unconscious Pantoran.
“Yeah? Wonder what Satsi’ll have to say about you being back here.” Turel’s words hung in the air for a moment before the Jedi made his departure, walking up the transport’s ramp and signalling his pilot to take off.
Uji hesitated for a moment at the mention of his companion. He knew Turel wouldn’t seek retribution against him by using her — the Jedi would settle this with Uji the next time they met. Still, the mention of her name was enough to remind Uji why it was he had to ensure that Gram didn’t get the chance to talk. The Proconsul knelt beside the informant’s body and reached down, taking hold of the man's head.
A single, sharp twist resulted in the satisfying snap of his neck.
Great imagery.
**considering
Well written.
I followed along here, but the changing of tenses was a little clumsy.
Neat moment. Nice playing into Turel's aspects.