Jedi Adept: A Path In The Dark Ch. 3

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Jacen Solo snapped his comlink close and reclined back in his chair. Surrounding him were thousands of flat images displaying news feeds and closed circuit camera feeds. Hundreds of spycams spread throughout the giant city planet of Coruscant were being piped into this, his inner sanctum at the Senate Rotunda. His eyes were unfocused, diffused, his awareness watching all the images at one time.

Movement, a flash of yellow and brown, on one of the flat images in the lower left hand section of the display drew his attention. He leaned forward slightly, getting a closer look at the image.

Jacen watched the monitor; watched the blonde Jedi leave through the main doors of the Jedi Temple, a satchel hanging over her shoulder. He frowned. He had had plans for Tahiri. He had planned on dangling before her the treat of seeing Anakin again, and then once she was hooked on Flow Walking in order to see his dead brother, he would use that need to subvert her to his will; to make her his willing spy, his slave. He scratched at his chin, and wondered how he could use her now that she was no longer a Jedi.

One thing was certain; his plans to turn her into a spy were dashed and useless. He snarled and slammed his fist into the padded armrest of his chair. With a wave of his hand, he turned off the monitors and leaned forward in his chair.

The chair shifted how it held him, the leg rest collapsing as the back straightened. Scooting to the edge of the chair, he rested his elbows on his desk, and clasped his hands into a fist in front of him, and then leaned his chin against the fist.

He knew there was something helpful here, and he wondered, not for the first time, if Ben was a worthy Sith apprentice for him.

The more he wondered about it, the more he was certain that Ben was not the appropriate apprentice for him.

First there was Ben's failure on Korriban with the young girl, and then the distinct lack of anger and hate coming from the boy after the death of his mother. Jacen frowned for a moment, as he realized that he had felt nothing from Ben in weeks. Not since he had been rescued from that cave-in on Ossus.

His frown grew deeper as he realized that he still did not have a clear picture of exactly what had happened during those hours when Ben had been trapped in the catacombs. He reached over to his terminal, and made a note that he needed to send someone to Ossus to discover exactly what had happened. Knowledge was power, and without that power, Jacen was vulnerable.

For a moment, he wondered what he could do to propel Ben further along the path to Sith apprenticeship. Then his thoughts turned to what he would do when Ben inevitably refused to become his apprentice.

Immediately, he came to a conclusion. If Ben was not his apprentice, then he was too dangerous and powerful to let live. He would have to be removed, in order to preserve the peace and stability of the galaxy.

Satisfied, he leaned back in his chair again flicking on the monitor again, watching Tahiri as she continued walking down the steps of the Temple; leaving that world behind, and entering the larger one in which Jacen lived in.

And with that thought, Jacen realized what he needed to do. He knew how he could use Tahiri.

Grinning, he leaned over, and thumbed his calendar, pulling up a list of events that had happened over the past twenty years during this week. His grin grew larger as he saw that tomorrow would be the anniversary of his younger brother's death. He knew it was soon, and the fact that it was so close, was just another instance of the Force looking out for him, its chosen gardener.

He scrubbed at his face, excited about his idea to ensnare Tahiri. He now knew how he could mold and shape her into a powerful tool, even if she did end up being useless to him as a Sith Apprentice.

At the very least, she would make a powerful Hand.

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Footsteps echoed through the close confines of the Coruscant street. Not an uncommon sound this deep in the under-city, where all manner of beings preyed upon one another.

The sound that did seem out of place, the sound which sent those residents of this particular level of the massive city planet scurrying back to their shadows, was the echoes of plazsteel armor that followed those footsteps.

Chase Polliska darted through the dimly lit streets; racing through them with a recklessness and abandon he had not experience since his time on Kashyyk. Stagnant pools of water soaked the lower edges of his pants as he splashed through them and created a new sound to the cacophony of the chase.

A dozen meters behind him, the source of the plazsteel armor noises came into view as they raced around a corner. There were three of them, dressed in the black armor of the Galactic Alliance Guard. Full-face helmets hid all identifying features, and their E15 Blastech rifles glittered coldly in the arc-sodium lights.

Chase did not look behind him. He did not check his pursuers to see how close they were. What he did was run.

He glanced over to the walkway attached to the building on the far side of the crevice to his right. There were a lot more open doors and alleys over there. Thirty meters away was one of the many pedestrian bridges that spanned the gulf between buildings.

Chase grinned and started running faster, his breath coming in great gulps as he fled the larger, armed men behind him.

Soon, he was at the bridge, and he darted down it. Halfway across, he stumbled to a stop and looked at the large chunk of permacrete that was just gone from the bridge. The guard rail was still there, which was what had lulled him into a false sense of security concerning the likelihood of making his way across the bridge.

The clatter of armor and the scuffle of boots sounded loud behind him. Deep in the back of his throat he growled as he turned around. His eyes flicked between the three burly men who had surrounded him. Their movements were smooth and coordinated; befitting their status as well trained soldiers.

Deep in the hind portions of his brain, Chase knew those movements, knew how to counter them, how to overcome them. It was not so much something that he had learned, but an almost instinctive aspect of himself.

Outwardly, Chase appeared to be a fifteen year old human male. Living in the under-city had given him a lean, hard physique, and a mop of unruly brown hair. Yet despite appearances, he was not quite a normal fifteen year old human male.

He was an experiment.

A collection of biotechnologies, shoved into a human frame, courtesy of BioTech Industries. Possibly, he would still be on Ambria, being experimented upon, if not for the help of a young Jedi apprentice. Their crowning achievement before he had fled Ambria alongside of Noelani Darklighter, the only bright spot that he could ever remember in his life. So, like a fool, he had fled from her. He had been scared; scared of the light and life that seemed to flow from her effortlessly.

The forward slash of an armored fist drew Chase from his ruminations. He leaned backwards slightly, and grabbed the arm as it flashed in front of his face.

Then he pulled, using the man's own momentum to drag him forward and off-balance.

With an opening created, he darted forward and ran back the way he had come. When he reached the end of the bridge, he darted right and took off running once more.

He knew that if cornered, he could take on all three of the soldiers, but he also instinctively knew that he would end up injured if he did so. So, as he always did, Chase followed his instincts, and when they directed him to dart through the opening he had created, he had done so without a moment's hesitation.

He made turns wildly, blindly, with the angered yells from the pursuing soldiers always there to dog his steps. Finally, he spied another of the bridges. This one led to the level above, so he could see that it was whole from one end to the other.

Still acting on instinct, he made the corner, and ran onto the bridge.

When he reached the midpoint he stopped, seeing a second squad of black suited soldiers standing there. Their blasters were drawn and leveled at him. He tossed a quick glance behind him and saw the original three just stepping out onto the bridge, their own blasters coming to bear on him.

The leader spoke, his voice amplified by his helmet. "Give it up kid, there's nowhere for you to run to today."

Slowly, he turned a complete circle, until he was once more facing the leader. His instincts were flaring, screaming at him to attack. The Yuuzhan Vong equivalent of a battle computer, which BioTech had shoved into his head, was detailing a thousand different patterns which would allow him to get through the soldiers, and probably not get shot.

It was that probability of getting shot that he did not like.

He glanced to his left, and the voices in his head fell silent. All save one, almost reckless voice; one which sounded to Chase just like Noelani.

Turning back towards the solider, Chase smiled viciously, and then screamed at him, "I'm not going to be tossed into a cell. Not again. And especially not by the likes of you."

The soldiers advanced; their tread heavy on the bridge. The leader spoke again. "Just come along peacefully. The Colonel wants a word with you is all. Besides, it's not like you have anywhere you can go."

He snorted, and shook his head, as he backed towards the railing. He kept his focus on the leader's black face mask. Finally, he bumped up against the edge of the handrail.

His hand reached behind him and gripped the railing tightly. He squeezed the metal. Then blindly listening to instinct once more, he pulled on the handrail as he jumped. The soldiers yelled at him as he vaulted over and threw himself off into the empty space…

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