End of The Akk Days
Lyra Colony
Severian Space
Captain Cerys Dagen sat back in the pilots chair of the GX1 Hauler trying to remain calm. Around her were a large number of other small freighters and personnel transports, all waiting their turn to lift off and return with their cargoes to one of the Naga Sadow vessels either in orbit or at the rendezvous several systems away. Every attempt she had made to pull rank to obtain an earlier take-off had met with patient bureaucracy.
As her hand brushed over her adapted datapad the Miraluka was startled by a sudden and persistent knocking on the hatch. Her finger moved to the communicator button. “Yes?”
“Are you returning to the Perdition?” It was a deep voice muffled by a helmet.
“Yes I am, why?” she replied.
“You will take me there.”
She sighed. Who was out there? Some chancer who had missed his shuttle? “This is not passenger transport. I'm not authorised to give people lifts. Who are you anyway?”
There was a slight pause, then, “I am Malisane Sadow.”
She froze. She was relatively new to the Clan's Warhost forces, having joined the officer programme and graduated several years earlier. She had only just met the minimum time served for promotion to her new rank. However she was more than familiar with the structure of the Clan and the stories of it's past. A Son of Sadow. And she had heard of this one. “Sorry sir, I'll open the hatch.”
She stood and saluted as he entered the cockpit. “There is no need for that,” he told her as he sat in the vacant co pilots chair. “Submit a priority one launch code and take us out of here.”
“Yes sir.” She sat back down in the pilots chair and transmitted the code, and then the hauler began to vibrate as it lifted off the ground, her hands operating the controls with her usual calm efficiency. “Our flight time should only be about four hours sir.”
“Good,” the reply came back.
She could not see him in the traditional sense, but her innate force senses could sense him. He was powerful, confident, and had a raw controlled anger about him. She could also sense him studying her.
“You are a combat pilot.” he said after a few seconds. It was not a question.
“I am sir, yes.”
“A captain. And you are flying a hauler?”
“Yes sir.”
“Why?”
She took a deep breath. He had hit a raw spot. “I am a Miraluka sir. I have passed all the exams and have more than sufficient simulator and flight time. However unfortunately sir most of the squadron commanders are reluctant to have a conventionally blind pilot at the controls of one of their fighters.”
“Foolish,” he replied, “with what is to come we need every trained pilot.”
“Thank you sir, however currently they have no shortage of candidates. I have been flying a desk as it were sir. I try and get some time in the haulers to keep my flight status. I am not sure for how much longer though.”
There was another pause. “You wish to leave,” he replied simply.
She paused. She had considered it. “I do not wish to sir, but I did not train to sit behind a desk or at a terminal.”
“I see.”
With not much else to say she waited until the hauler cleared the atmosphere then made the jump to hyperspace.
Malisane sat quietly in the co pilot's chair watching the Miraluka operate the controls. He had removed his helmet to let his scarred skin breathe, confident that the pilot could not make out the damaged features he usually concealed. He suddenly stood up as a deep sonorous tone sounded behind him. Zero, his short black BT-1 astromech, entered the cockpit. He glanced at his datapad as the droid began to transmit wirelessly to it. “He says there is a problem with the hyperdrive.”
Cerys fingers flicked over the adapted terminal, reading the signals it was sending her. “I'm not getting any error reports.”
“He is. Bring us out of hyperspace.”
“Yes sir.” They waited while the vessel returned to normal space and slowed. A few seconds later an alarm sounded in the cockpit. Cerys' fingers brushed over the display again. “Hyperdrive failed sir. We're going nowhere.”
There was a slightly mocking tone from the droid behind her, though it backed off as Malisane swivelled in his chair to regard it. “Where are we?”
“The computer says we're in the Drakora system sir.”
“I have never heard of it,” Malisane replied.
“There isn't much here sir,” she replied, “one planet with a breathable atmosphere but it's a water world.”
“Are there any settlements?”
“One sir,” she replied as she interpreted the information, “there's a resort. They might have somewhere we can make repairs.”
“Any port in a storm. Land us there.”
“Yes sir.”
As the hauler entered the atmosphere of the planet Malisane brought up the resort on the view screen. It was a large white building on a raised platform in the sea. Several pools surrounded the hotel, along with a yellow artificial beach facing the ocean. There was also a large landing area in front of the resort with a large number of expensive personal yachts and skiffs. As they made the final approach to land the grey metal hauler stood out like a sore thumb. After a few minutes the ramp slid down and Malisane, Cerys and Zero disembarked. In front of them the entrance was large with plants surrounding it and several revolving doors.
Immediately a man in a white suit approached them. “Deliveries are supposed to be at the bay in the rear of the resort. You're in the wrong place you will have to move.” He paused as he saw the Battlelord, wearing his dark armour and cloak, and a look of confusion came over his features.
Malisane walked up to him. “This is not a delivery. Our ship is in need of repair. Do you have someone who can make them?”
The man paused for a few seconds, before his training took over. “Not today sir I am afraid, it is currently the weekend here the garage staff do not return for two days. I suppose you could wait for them on your ship but you can not leave it here sir we have an image to maintain.”
Malisane studied him for a few seconds, and then looked at the hotel. “You have accommodation available?”
“Yes we do sir, but,” he paused studying the armoured Battlelord, “well it's quite expensive sir.”
Malisane nodded. “Good. We will check in. Have our vessel parked around the rear where it can be worked on when your staff arrive.”
The man nodded, “Very good, sir.”
A few heads turned as the black armoured Battlelord entered the reception area, followed by Cerys in her flight suit and the black astromech. The reception was a wide and airy with pot plants, several sofas and a large reflecting pool. The reception desk was at the other end behind which stood a smartly dressed Twi'lek female who studied the Sith with a brief look of distaste which immediately turned into a forced smile as he approached the desk.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
Malisane looked back at her. “We require two rooms,” he told her, “provisionally for two nights.”
“I see sir,” she replied stressing the word “see” slightly. She turned to her terminal, “we are quite busy at the moment. I do have a suite available on the fifth floor, it has two separate bedrooms both with en suite facilities with a communal area which leads onto a balcony overlooking the pool area. It is however eight hundred credits per night.”
“That will suffice,” Malisane replied.
“Very good sir,” she replied, “now we can offer our all inclusive or all inclusive plus packages. The all inclusive package includes meals and non branded drinks at an extra four hundred credits, or the all inclusive plus package includes branded drinks, complimentary safe and restocking of the mini bar and one visit to the spa at a time of your choice, which for the duration of your stay is an extra six hundred.”
Malisane sighed. He was becoming impatient. “The second one.” He produced his 'only to be used in emergencies' Clan credit stick. “Charge it to that.”
“Very good sir,” she replied, “now does sir or madam have any luggage?”
“No we do not.”
“I see sir,” she replied brightly, “well in that case we can supply sir with a selection of clothing for yourself and your female companion which will perhaps make you feel more comfortable during your stay? Of course extra clothing should you desire can be ordered via the terminal in your suite.”
“Yes, whatever.” Malisane could feel his irritation rising.
“Wonderful sir,” the twilek replied. She typed into her terminal and then produced two cards and a leaflet which she placed in front of them. “Ok you are in suite seventeen. Now as you can see here sir and madam, breakfast is available in the main restaurant from seven until ten in the morning, lunch is available from twelve until two in the restaurant or pool bar and the evening meal is from seven in the evening until half nine. You can book spa treatments from your terminal, this reception or the main spa desk and our full range of excursions can be booked here at reception or on your terminal.”
“Fine,” Malisane replied taking the cards, “follow me Captain.”
“Have a wonderful stay sir and madam,” the receptionist called as they walked away.
An hour later Malisane was stood in his room in front of the mirror. Conscious of the need to fit in he had changed his armour into a white linen suit and matching wide brimmed hat from the clothing a polite porter had dropped off. He pulled it down as much as possible to cover his scarring and added a pair of dark glasses to cover his lidless eyes with their black integral lenses. Satisfied he slipped the hilt of his saber into his jacket pocket and left his room. He walked over the the mini bar and opened it, selecting a liquor and a can of soda, adding one to the other and sipping it. Through the curtains at one end of the room the sun was shining. The black astromech was stood in a corner. A few seconds later the door to the other door opened and Cerys stepped through, wearing a light summer dress over a white two piece swimming costume. She was still wearing her own habitual black lenses. She regarded him calmly. “Sir. I have not managed to raise the Clan Warhost via the communicator I am afraid we are stuck here.”
Malisane nodded. “We must make the best of it.”
“Yes sir,” she replied, “we have an hour left before dinner.”
Malisane stood in the queue holding his plate in his hand. Around him people busied back and forth around the restaurant which had a number of bays serving hot and cold food. Cerys had deferentially agreed to let him go first to get food while she waited for a waiter to take their drinks order. The Battlelord was not used to this sort of environment but was trying to fit in. He felt his anger rise though when a large man suddenly appeared in front of him. He reached one hand forward and tapped the man on the shoulder. “There is a queue.”
The man turned with a wide grin on his face. “Yeah so what are you going to do about it?”
Malisane reached up with his spare hand and removed his glasses. He calmly regarded the man who took in the scarred face, ripped ears, missing nose and eye sockets in which two black lenses blinked occasionally. The perpetual sneer on the ripped mouth completed the look as Malisane returned the man's gaze, who paled slightly. He also took in the Sith's heavy frame. “Do you really want to find out?” Malisane asked.
The man tried to meet his gaze and failed. He muttered a slight apology and meekly moved to the back of the queue. Malisane nodded in satisfaction noting the slight approving glances from several other guests.
A few minutes later he returned to their table and placed his plate in front of him while he sat down. Two glasses of white wine and a jug of water were now on the table along with Cerys who was sat quietly. “With your permission sir I will get my own food.”
Malisane nodded. “We should drop the formal approach we are supposed to be on vacation. We do not want to stand out.”
“Very good sir, sorry what do I call you?” she asked.
Malisane paused. His own name stood out slightly. “I used to be known as Jagos, use that.”
“Yes, erm, Jagos,” she replied with a slight nervous smile. She turned and went to get her food.
A hour or so later and well fed the Sith and the Warhost officer sat at a table on an upstairs terrace. Around them several other couples sat holding hands and looking at the stars or talking quietly. By comparison and despite their attempts to fit in the two of them appeared stiff and uncomfortable.
A Rodian waiter came over, “Can I offer you another drink sir and madam?”
Malisane looked up at him. “Ewok liquor, no ice.”
“And a white wine,” Cerys added.
“Very good,” the waiter replied, “and also if you are interested the cabaret
begins inside in five minutes. Very good show tonight, we have dancers and magican..”
Cerys looked inside. “Maybe we should watch, sir, sorry Jagos. We would stand out less.”
Malisne nodded. “Very well.” He stood and lead her inside, gesturing at the waiter towards a free table. As they sat the waiter brought their drinks.
After a few minutes they were surprised by a elderly human couple who joined their table. “Sorry,” the man said apologetically, “there weren't any other free tables inside.”
“Oh I'm sure they don't mine Ceril,” the woman replied with a beam, “the more the merrier that's what I always say.” She looked around her then waved, “I say, waiter!”
Malisane starred at them coldly. “Very well.”
“One vodka and tomato juice and one medium beer,” the woman said loudly. She turned to Malisane and Cerys. “Lovely hotel this,” she told them, “Ceril and I haven't been before but the reviews were marvellous.”
“Were they really?” Malisane replied, considering whether or not to take his drink back to his room.
The woman studied him, taking in his ravaged features. “I say you've been in the wars haven't you?”
“Yes,” Malisane replied, resisting the urge to force choke her.
She reached for her handbag. “Well I found the most wonderful surgeon on Coruscant,” she said digging through and finding a card, “he does wonders, eye tucks, lips, wrinkles, but of course he does more extreme reconstruction. Take this card he'll give you a discount. I'm Mevis by the way and this is Ceril.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ceril said with a polite wave.
Cerys could sense the Battlelord's increasing irritation which threatened to burst out. “Hi I'm Cerys, and this is Jagos. This is our first time here as well.”
Mevis studied them both. “So are you two a couple?” she asked.
Cerys continued to take the initiative. “No, I'm his,” she thought quickly, even blind then she sensed they did not exactly give the appearance of a loving couple, “step daughter.” She regretted briefly not saying associate or secretary but it was said now.
Mevis' eye brows raised in surprise. “You're away with your step father?” she asked.
Cerys could sense the woman, her husband and even Malisane's suspicious gaze turn to her. “Yes, my mother is joining us tomorrow she had a meeting with her lawyers.”
As Malisane briefly covered his eyes with his hand the woman's eye brows raised even further. “Lawyer eh?” she said turning to Malisane, “no trouble I trust?”
Malisane, caught in the lie, did his best, “No just a routine matter.” He patted his suit pockets, finding only the hilt of his light saber. “I am just off outside for a death stick.” He quickly got up.
Cerys sighed as the woman's gaze returned to her. “He's supposed to have given up but you know what men are like on holiday.”
An hour or so later Malisane sat on the balcony, sipping a drink from the min bar. Zero stood next to him, the droid quietly taking in the surroundings. Cerys approached from the communal area. “Well I thought that all went alright sir,” she said quietly.
“Wonderfully,” the Battlelord replied, “that couple were among the worst people I've ever met even after two decades in the Brotherhood, the dancers were terrible and that magician would have tried to drag me up on stage if I had not made his set fall over.”
She sighed. “Yes your telekinesis did add a strange addition to the performance sir,” she replied, “it got a laugh though the audience loved it.”
“No more luck on the communicator Captain?” he asked.
“Sorry sir, no.”
Malisane looked out over the ocean. “We will try and continue to fit in then.”
Cery's nodded. “Yes sir. Do not forget sir breakfast finishes at ten hundred hours,” she paused, “and I have a seaweed wrap and hot stone massage at eleven hundred.” Her sightless turned upwards.
Malisane turned to her. “Do try and remember we are on the Clan's account her Captain.”
“Yes sir. Just trying to blend in sir.”
The next morning Malisane was sat in the pool bar sipping a cocktail. Breakfast had been acceptable, he had managed to get down at seven to avoid the rush and had enjoyed the peace, following his swim in the cold pool at six. The pool area was still quiet as many guests were either finishing in the restaurant or in their rooms getting ready for a day in the sun. He noticed with distaste that despite the signs many towels were already on sun loungers, something abhorrent to the Sith's ordered view of the world.
He glanced up as Cerys approached him. “Good morning Jagos,” she greeted him seeming more used to the alias, “did you enjoy breakfast?”
“Tolerable,” he replied.
She nodded. “Okay well I'm just off the spa. Do you want to meet for lunch at twelve?”
Malisane noted with disapproval the Captain was getting more comfortable in what was supposed to be an enforced stay in the hotel. “Yes I will see you later.”
As she left someone else approached the Sith. It was a Zeltron female wearing a brightly coloured outfit. “Good morning sir, are you enjoying your stay?”
“Yes,” Malisane replied.
“That's wonderful sir. I'm part of your entertainment team. We have the aquarobics starting in ten minutes in the main pool or if you're more interested we have rifle shooting at eleven in the range behind the spa. We also have other entertainments throughout the day listed on the boards for you to peruse.”
Malisane decided to be cooperative. “Thank you I may do.”
She beamed and left.
More people were coming outside now, and he sat back in his chair. He looked around as the loungers and the pool began to fill up. He was just debating finding somewhere quieter like the inside bar when two white suited men approached him. “Good morning sir,” one of them greeted him, “we would appreciate it if you would come with us.”
Malisane stared at them through his lenses. “Why?”
“We just need to discuss a small matter with you inside sir.”
Malisane could sense something in them, a deception and a slight apprehension. “What is it concerning?”
The man smiled slightly. “Inside, if you please sir. We do not want to disturb or embarrass the other guests.”
Malisane thought for a few seconds. It could be trouble, or it could be nothing. He could resist but it seemed more sensible to go along with them given he was effectively trapped here until the ship was fixed. He drained his drink and stood up. “Very well.”
Cerys waited patiently at the small spa reception. Though the Miraluka could not precisely make out the features of the room it felt cool and comfortable, and there was a pleasant aroma from flowers nearby. The receptionist finished on her terminal and smiled. “That all seems to be in order madam, if you follow me I'll take you to your treatment room where your therapist will be with you shortly.”
Cerys smiled back at her. “Thank you.”
She followed the woman down the tiled corridor to a room and opened the door. “Just inside here madam. If you undress and lie face down on the massage table with the towel over you then you will be attended to shortly.
Cerys entered the room. She sensed it was dark with a few candles burning. Soft music was playing in the room. The door closed behind her. She was above to unzip her dress when she sensed someone else was in the room. She heard the sound of a blaster's safety being removed and a woman's voice told her. “Don't bother with that, just raise your hands and sit on the table. Do not make any sudden movements.”
Malisane followed the two men up the steps to the main building and through the doors to the reception area. He was remaining calm so far. There was something not right about this whole situation. Studying the men who were walking either side of him he could sense they were armed, though only lightly. He could handle them easily whenever he wanted to. Still there was still a possibility this was a routine matter but he sensed it was not. He saw the reception desk and turned towards it, before one of the men politely but firmly blocked his way. “Not that way sir,” he said quietly, “the office is just this way.”
The room they eventually reached was at the far end of a corridor. One of the men placed a hand on a panel and it slid open. Inside was a desk with light chairs in front of it, and a larger chair behind it. The walls were plain and the only other item of furniture was a heavy cabinet. “Have a seat sir,” one of the men told him, “the manager will be with you shortly.”
Malisane sat down on one of the chairs as the door slid shut behind him. He refused the offer of refreshments, and the two men took their positions either side of the door. He waited quietly staring at the wall behind the desk until the door slid open once more, and he heard footsteps behind him. He turned his head and looked in surprise at a tall blonde attractive woman entered wearing a smart grey jacket and skirt, her gaze meeting his own as she walked around the desk and took a seat.
“Jenna,” he said in surprise.
“Hello Malisane. It's been a long time.”
Malisane studied the woman in amazement. She was dead, she had been for over a decade, since that fatal day when his own bomb had collapsed the Dystopia club in on itself, nearly taking his own life and left him barely alive in a ravaged state he had never entirely recovered from.
She smiled coldly. “Welcome to my latest venture. It was quite a surprise when you turned up on my guest list. Its taken me a decade to recover from what you did, to our company and our fortune. I suppose I should be grateful I am at least here our partners did not survive your explosion, I myself was lucky to do so.”
“I thought you were dead,” he told her.
“Fortunately I was on my way to another appointment, my shuttle was taking off from the roof when the explosion happened. It seemed sensible to let the rumour persist. As you know your Clan's front organisation seized all our assets to pay for the damage to the city, and had they known I was alive they would have come after me. I was very disappointed to here of your survival but your physical state was some comfort after your betrayal.”
“I did not betray anyone,” Malisane snapped back, “what I did was necessary to destroy a powerful enemy of my Clan. Yes the explosion was brutal but it achieved that goal.”
“I do not care about the affairs of dark jedi,” she replied coldly, “you destroyed us. We were young entrepreneurs building an empire together. We brought you in because you were the planetary governor and had an enthusiasm for building with us. And even after we discovered what you really were we kept you inside and you made us stronger. And with one act you ripped it all down and killed our partners. It's taken me a decade to rebuild again.”
He studied her. “So what if I did?” he replied, “I was a fool back then. The trivialities we were involved in were a distraction. The person you knew burned away years ago. I care about my Clan and my Clan alone. And I am bored of this. I think my stay at your resort is at an end. Provide me with a ship or I will take one by force.”
“Would you? We have your companion.”
He shrugged. “She is a pilot I only met yesterday.”
She smiled. “Nice. However you overestimate yourself. I am not done with you. I am fully aware of your abilities, and that you have a lightsaber in your left jacket pocket. If you make any sudden moves you will die.”
His ripped mouth shifted slightly into more of a sneer. “You think your security can stop me?”
“Them?” she asked glancing at the two men, “They're for show. They reassure the guests and fit in with our image. You taught us a lot about security and defence systems when you worked with us, and I have employed them all in my new venture and improved on them. Try something if you do not believe me.”
His eyes took in the surroundings. He did believe her. There could be any amount of defences hidden in the walls or the ceiling of this room and the areas outside. “So what happens now? If you intend to kill me why should I not make an attempt on your life? What do I have to loose?”
She smiled back at him. “You will not do that Malisane so long as you believe you have a chance,” she told him, “you will wait until you sense an opening or weakness. And I could have killed you last night, or during your breakfast, or right now. I do not intend to yet until I am ready. I will take your lightsaber however. Put it on the desk, carefully.”
He reached inside his jacket pocket and removed the hilt, and for a second he gripped it, his finger near the switch as her eyes bore into him, then slowly he placed it on the desk. She reached across and took it from him, putting it in her own pocket.
“Now we are going to take a walk to my own office. This is just a room the reps handle customer complaints in. We're going to remain nice and calm we do not want to alarm the other guests. Though if necessary they might be persuaded a fifty percent discount on their next visit will make up for witnessing your violent death.”
Cerys calmly sat on the massage table. The female security guard had her blaster trained on her, and had her communicator on her left hand near her mouth as she spoke. The guard finally lowered her communicator. “Ok miss we're leaving. Keep in front of me and remain calm. Remember who has the blaster.”
Cerys faked a weak smile. “Of course,” she said quietly, “I am sure this is just a misunderstanding. I'm happy to cooperate.”
“You are sensible then,” the guard told her, “we will take the side entrance. Stand up.”
Cerys slowly began to lift herself off the bed, and as she moved her left arm to push herself off it she put it through the tables head hole and seemingly lost her balance, crashing to the floor. “I'm sorry,” she said quickly, “I can't see.” Feebly she reached for the legs of the table, trying to pull herself up.
“Oh let me,” the guard snapped reaching her free hand down to grip Cerys own. She gasped as suddenly the Miraluka grabbed her wrist with both of her own, wrenching her down to crash against the side of the table and hit the floor hard. Cerys quickly pushed herself up and grabbed the guards head, smashing it against the table leg. She repeated the move for good measure then satisfied she took the blaster from the guards limp grip and stood up, also divesting her opponent of a flat security card. She walked to the door and opened it slowly, peering out as she looked around with her force vision. The corridor was apparently empty. Not wanting to return to the reception she noticed a door at the other end of the corridor. She approached and studied it. It had a palm reader and a backup card slot. She slid the card into the slot and the door slid open revealing a narrow alley beyond. She quickly slipped outside.
One end of the alley lead to the artificial beach, the other presumably back to the main building. She headed towards the latter. She made her way quickly, keeping the blaster low but ready. At the end of the alley she looked out. The pool to her right was noisy, the aquarobics session in full flow with music blaring out, while other people stood at the bar or sunbathed on loungers. To her right were the steps to reception. She slid the blaster under her dress and tucked it into the strap of her bikini top under her arm, then made her way up the steps, trying to act casually. Then she froze. Malisane was walking through the reception, flanked by two of the white suited coated security guards and a tall blonde woman. The reception was busy, a line of people were waiting the check in, and quite a few more were sat on the sofas having cold drinks and chatting. Thinking quickly she studied the area and noticed a panel to the left hand side of the doors. She reached for it and her fingers ran along the raised bumps on the bottom reading then. Then she took a breath and hit it hard with her elbow smashing the glass.
Malisane looked around in surprise as alarms began to sound through the hotel, and an automated voice cut through the noise. “Attention. Will all guests exit the building calmly through the nearest exit and congregate in the pool or beach area or in front of the hotel where members of staff will be happy to assist you. Do not use the lifts for your own safety and leave all bags so as not to hamper your exit.”
Immediately there was chaos in the reception area as some people immediately made for the pool or the doors outside, while others got in their way trying to decide which one was closer. Others were ignoring the instructions and trying to drag suitcases along with them. Malisane slipped into the crowd as Jenna feverishly tried to follow but lost sight of him. As he noticed the reception staff coming out from behind the desk to try and guide the chaos he opted to quickly slip behind it. He could see Jenna's blonde head following the crowd outside.
He waited as the crowd began to clear and looked round quickly as someone appeared next to him. “This is your work?” he asked over the alarms.
She nodded quickly, “Yes sir. It would be help to know what is happening?”
“The explanation will have to wait for later. We do not have much time. We're still stuck here once this has calmed down they will be searching for us and we still can not leave without a ship.” He looked up over the desk to see the reception was now empty. Several of the white suited guards were stood outside the glass doors on either side which had now shut. His gaze ended on the doors to the stairs. “Follow me.”
“Where are we going sir?” she asked.
“The last place they would expect to find us.”
As she followed his meaning became clear. “Are you serious sir?”
“Yes.” They made their way upstairs, which fortunately had cleared of people leaving, until they reached their floor. They quickly made their way along the line of room doors until they reached their own.
Cerys examined it. “In the event of a fire it will only open from the inside to stop anyone returning to their rooms until the alarm shuts down. I can slice it.”
“Do it quickly.”
“Yes sir,” she replied.
Once they were inside Malisane was immediately greeted by the short black assassin droid who rolled over from the corner, communicating in his deep tone. Malisane looked down at him. “Guard the door.” The droid responded and moved in front of it.
“What do we do now sir?” Cerys asked.
Malisane briefly updated her, detailing Jenna and her grudge and the resorts likely high tech and deadly security systems but omitting much of the historic details. “I have an idea sir,” she told him as she moved to the rooms guest terminal and logged in, “if we move anywhere the security system will detect us. I can't disable it but I have access to our booking and identity details. I can blank our images so the facial recognition software won't recognise us.”
Malisane nodded. “Do it.” While she was busy he moved to his room and took down a long zipped bag from on top of the wardrobe that contained an extra duvet and pillows. He discarded them and packed his armour and weapons aside from his blaster. He sealed it and carried it to the balcony and looked out. The pool area was still full of guests stood in a crowd as staff watched them. Seeing a bush below he dropped the bag behind it. Then he returned to the room. He also had an idea.
Jenna walked angrily across the reception. The alarms had been shut off and the guests were beginning to enter the building, opting to return to the pool or the restaurant which was about to open for lunch. She met her head of security. “Any news yet?”
“Not so far ma'am,” he replied, “we have searched the ground floor areas but it's proving difficult with all the guest movements. The security system has not picked them up either.”
She scowled. “Keep searching I want them found. Use the cleaning droids to search the the upstairs rooms.”
“Yes ma'am.”
She turned and began to walk towards the corridor that lead to her office when she heard a strange deep tone. Following the noise she entered a small alcove with boards advertising trips, behind which a black astromech droid was stood. “What are you doing there?” she demanded.
The droid sounded it's tone again and then in front for it a familiar flickering image appeared. “I offered you a chance to just let me walk out Jenna,” the figure told her, “now this is the hard way. This assassin droid is set to explode if you try and raise the alarm or move more than two metres from it. You will follow it so we can have another discussion.”
Immediately the droid began to roll and she strode after it as it lead her across reception and outside down the ramp next to the steps to the pool. A guard approached her but she ordered him away and followed down the alley Cerys had taken earlier.
She moved quickly to keep up with the droid until she reached the end which lead to a quiet deserted loading area where several stacks of empty containers awaited collection. The droid stopped and a second later Jenna felt an invisible force slam her against one of the stacks, pinning her. Malisane stepped out from the shadows. He calmly walked forward and reached into her jacket pocket retrieving his lightsaber. He studied her. “One of the things I have learnt since what happened is to forgo concepts like revenge. You have rebuilt your business and become a success. You could simply have let me got or not even bothered me. But you could not.”
She studied him. “No I could not. So what now?”
“My pilot is by a small shuttle nearby in the rear docking area. Your obsession with micro management tells me you would know the command codes for it. You will tell me them.”
“And why would I do that?” she demanded. “You will let me live?”
“No I do not think that would be a good idea. You are something I would rather leave in my past. You on the other hand I suspect will never forget.”
“So why should I tell you anything?”
He studied her. “Unlike many of my fellows I have no interest in inflicting pain or suffering for their own sake. However I am very capable of doing so if it achieves what is necessary. Your choice is a quick painless death or an agonising one. I suggest you consider your options.”
Some time later the shuttle docked with the ISD Perdition and Malisane strode down the ramp now in his familiar armour. As he walked across the docking bay an officer carrying a datapad approached him and saluted. “I am sorry to bother you Battlelord but I was looking for you.”
“Why?” Malisane demanded.
“I'm from fleet personnel We received your request from last week for a temporary pilot to be assigned to your ship. I have complied a list of several candidates for you to consider and a make a choice.”
He glanced down at the datapad then back at the officer. “I already have chosen. Assign Captain Cerys Dagen.”
“Her sir? But you know she's...”
“Yes. I have made my choice.”
The office saluted.“Yes sir.”